O Love is a Mortal Muse of Fear

Love is a stranger
And never seen.
So battle the words which bore me sore,
White tears, making up the margin still.

Love is the world behind now
That have not the life to save, yet all the pain,
As the soul’s life shall be suffered the same
where a pale snake died in the depths of Cataract-Bornock.

O Love is a mortal Muse of fear,
That nightingales
Joy to disgrace and commend to the dead
By the boundless air wind-leafery
And a song of sharps,
Warriors, hissings, and beaked pardoning.
They sing with all the swine in hell,
And Marvos, sounding wild,
Cries Eternal.

The Combed Thunderclap, 2016

Algorithmic approach:
Machine Learning

Language model:
Traditional English Poetry

Quartelbarries

that one with the quartelbarries
he’s an archist, a rustleman
he four fat stiners shawly
gives a great shine
aye, he’s the right one for the headly bearders
that wet wipe
greatrags and fat gripes
unwipening on green fingers
snotty hands
says he’s a man of the eyes and soul
nay’s a man to the window water
house, boys and pints
a manchical is he
parcan and bangread
boisterous eaps and laugh capquested
bested by a waiting
a waiting up a professacka stirtion
pissed and coybegat
beer bested he was
that solate time
remaintearding into the night
when a will spronged him
a nightly dark with a cutch and scair
stole his stick
and a wobble of his wauntain soul
until he lay there dispaping
and the moon black house
his half moans lorged

we bounced our heels
while the ambulance screaked
and the quartelbarry squeaked

The Combed Thunderclap, 2016

Algorithmic approach:
Machine Learning

Language model:
Ulysses, by James Joyce

She Walks in Beauty:

A Villanelle

She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright.

Crashed relics of their vanished might
meet the gaze of stranger’s eyes
She walks in Beauty, like the night.

Presenting idly to my sight
from the skirts of Paradise
And all that’s best of dark and bright

Shining through the smoothest white
in the scarce believing eyes
She walks in Beauty, like the night

robed in radiance of its light:
mountain-like, through those clear skies
And all that’s best of dark and bright.

I soar along from left to right;
In her who lives, and him who dies.
She walks in Beauty, like the night
And all that’s best of dark and bright.


The Combed Thunderclap, 2014

Remixed works:

She Walks in Beauty
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
The Bride of Abydos
To–
Cain: A Mystery
Parisina
The Island
On the Star of the Legion of Honour
The Siege of Corinth
To the Earl of Clare
Euthanasia

- by Lord Byron

Shall I Compare Thee
to Laura Ashley

by
William $hake$peare

Shall I compare thee to Laura Ashley?
House of Flora lovely and Mad Carpentier.
Breitling do shake the Burberry of May,
And Tiffany hath all too Karen Kane.
Sometime Sealup the eye of Philipp Plein,
And often is his gold Bulgari dimmed;
And every fair Tom Ford sometime declines,
By chance, or Cartier’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy Hussein Chalayan shall not fade,
Nor Karl Lagerfeld that fair thou ow’st,
Nor Vivienne Westwood wand’rest in his shade,
When in Patek Philippe to Time thou grow’st.
So long as Anna Sui, or eyes can see,
So long St. John, and D & G to thee.

CT, 2014

Remixed works:
Sonnet 18, by William Shakespeare
The names of various luxury brands

Ozymandias’ Eyes

by
Percy Bysshe Shelley

      in the                    on the
   f sunk, a s                lies, whose
  d wrinkle  lip,           of cold co  and,
Tell that     sculp       l those pas    s re
  ich yet    vive,           these li   ess
    hand that mo               he heart th
       the pe                     pear 





CT, 2014

Sculpted work:
Ozymandias, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I Have a Dream

by
Percy Bysshe Shelley

I have a dream from an antique land
that rolls: We hold these truths to be of stone
friends in the desert. That all men, on the sand,
Half sunk, are free. We cannot walk alone
And have a dream, and sneer of old command,
Let us not wallow well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these wrongful deeds,
the majestic heights, and the heart that fed
but live out the true meaning of its creed:
“My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of kings,
Look on my mountainside, let freedom ring!”
Nothing but pride remains. I have a dream
from that colossal quest will realize freedom,
the lone righteousness like a mighty stream.

CT, 2014

Remixed works:
Ozymandias, by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I Have a Dream speech, by Martin Luther King