I Am A DAdA POeM

I am he – bleak fields are asleep,

My heart alone wakes;

I wonder – things beneath are not yet stirring,

While doors close gently,

there is silence in the chimneys.

 

 

I hear multimedia.

I see Door of Becoming.

I want nontoxic oppressiveness.

I am dissimulating fusee.

 

I pretend, nontoxic oppressiveness.

I feel dissimulating fusee.

I touch Door of Becoming.

I worry multimedia.

I cry gently – and there is silence in the chimneys.

I am – these bleak fields are asleep,

My heart alone.

 

I understand these bleak fields are asleep –

My heart alone.

I say sky gently and there is silence in the chimneys.

I dream multimedia.

I try Door of Becoming.

I hope – dissimulating fusee.

I am existentialist cowshed.

This Dada Poem was composed using the online poetry generator, I-am-poem . I found this generator by way of the post, Galaxy Girl. There are links to several poetry generators found on this post. Galaxy Girl was prompted by Linda Lee Lyberg’s post, Poetics: Surrealism in Poetry.

 

I selected words to use in the I-am-poem using: the Random Word Generator, words lifted from news articles, and some lines/words from three poems. “Door of Becoming” comes from Darren Thomas’s poem, Knock on the Door of Becoming.  The lines,

The bleak fields are asleep,
My heart alone wakes;

are from the poem, Evening, by Rainer Maria Rilke (Translator- Jessie Lamont). Rilke’s poem, Presaging, provided the lines,

things beneath are not yet stirring,

While doors close gently,

there is silence in the chimneys.

– More on Rainer Maria Rilke.

The collages, I am a Dadaist Poem 1 & 2, were created using scanned collages composed of pages/ads from Wired Magazine.

Meeting down by the quay

A defective quantum steam engine cannot dissolve water currents. Two-sided satellites make poisonous wires dance in the Autumn moonlight. Movers in love with dopamine’s evil nerve graphite never shed tears when parting.

 

Meeting down by the quay,

Sea of Sabotage,

most influential global grin genre

lighting up the sky,

with the soft lullabies

of weeping Wendigo eyes.

 

Ominous neuro-graffiti, enraptured with a Dopamine Harvester, like a hoax of an iridescent jet fuel, can’t melt sea punk beams. Near yesterday’s forgotten calliopes, bipedal satellites grow toxic umbilical melodies, preconceived entropy buds flower on crisp, frozen gaze

 

Should’ah Sleep with an Image

Should’ah Sleep with an Image

that has No Connection

Let’s fall to the bottom of the bottom.

Let’s fall to the bottom of the bottom.

 

convex vestibules convey

vernacular vertical ventricles at vespers –

 

 

liquidity quiddity quantifies rigidity

in rigorous generational genteel frigidity ~/

 

 

segments of sedimentary stagnation

grows with the groveling inflation seeking

inspirational spires’ congealing congregational jellification –

 

 

factor fractious cranks in frivolous facsimiles

of formidable floating filaments/imaginary figments –

An over laugh fingers the quantum quandary

in calculated calcified quadrants’ queries,

as the quick sly brownish fox

jumps over the hazy dogfish.

 

An ephemeral fascination with phenomena in the well of reflection – leaves litter the lane-way, when the glam layaway launders lurching angelic litigation in the least likely liturgical surgery. How simple in solitude.

 

This started with some oddly translated lines from a Japanese Photographer’s Tweets. A mix of Kafkaocean news – Canadian election, Covid & the anti-thinkers, and Afghanistan surrender/fiasco – triggered a stream of consciousness alliteration. Thanks to fellow blogger, Eric Wayne, for the new addition to my vocabulary, quiddity.