Poetry Break #3


Yeah, another of my damn poetry breaks heheheheheh. These are all by me…

For Mark at Some College in Utica, NY


He strides the empty oval corridor
Orbiting the island of boxes
And speaks the language of the machine

The initiates stoop in the mild bluish glow
And put will to the task
Of the language of the machine

OOOHHH that’s Ugggllyy!”
Or perhaps “good boy, good girl!”
In any case he heals with a touch
In the language of the machine

The technomage stops
With a slight adjustment to his nose balanced lenses
He waves his ink-filled wand while in muttering incantation
Of the language of the machine

But wait! Upon seeing an endless loop
He writes a chart and divines from the stars
What is in the source
He squashes that bug!
In the language of the machine

But then what’s this?
A smile cross’t his lips he finds deep meaning
In the language of the machine

Upon his furrowed brow we see
The thought inherent of one whom knows
The language of the machine

When done the coders see
Reflected in the screen
or perhaps in him, our other monitor
The language of the machine

And we know it’s us that’s speaking!

Code Poetry

What does it matter
If we call it a poem
Or a program

The result is just the same

The action in response to a poem
Is the action in response to a program

It matters not whether the action
Takes place in hardware or wetware

Or whether we call it processing or thinking

What matters is the action
And the work of our brothers and sisters

Who speak the language of the machine
And perhaps this most human of languages called poetry

We sweat at screen and page in order to speak
To this cyber-organism we call society

We coder-poets will forever link us one to the other
We have no choice for we see the beauty in the symbols we manipulate

Our greatest hope is that our meaning will shine through
That our poem will run after the first compile

But if not we will simply debug
For our meaning is for both you and the machine

And we all know whom it is that’s speaking!


Casting Teeth, as if Runes

Sometimes the words seem to come
From somewhere else
Easily to my pen

Other times they need to be extracted
Like a bad molar

I have to probe with my tongue
In the back of my mouth
In order to speak

The tongue back there
Tends to garble the words
Putting me in a verbal catch 22

Why is it so difficult at times?
Shall I use the well worn excuse?
Lack of inspiration?

Perhaps blame the jealousy of the muses?

It’s like that this thing called writing
It comes and goes like a tide

HEY, maybe it’s the phase of the moon!
Maybe my horoscope is bad for writing today!

I’ll check the paper later
For now I’ll just struggle on

If the poem don’t come

I’ll yank that bad boy out


Oh for the Scent of Land I Long

Will I ford this turbulent sea or shall I falter on the rocks
And fall to my shaky knees?
How many lonely tests must I endure
Before this ship of self has found a cure?

A home port seems forever in sight
Yet a course to steer on this starless night
Through stiff currents of thought and want
Seems forever uncharitable
To this now ancient mariner

My rudder is long since gone
And what of the many long cold nights of mending sail and trim?
Only to lose a yardarm in the next fierce blast of wind

The hull is punctured on this ship of life
Every wave sends a shudder felt by me as strife

Yet, still I keep on baling her bilge
In the hope for a light well paid

Or the masted sail of another blighted vessel
In hope of mutual aid

In this my hope yet dashed
I navigate by love
Through another day spent sailing
As fingers through a tattered glove

And will this journey be
An endless salty sea
Or will the gulls
bring to my ears

The call of a place for me?

Table Destiny

Drop the coin of the realm and press start
The pin fires the silver sphere


We’re off on a wild ride

At first we’re almost helpless
Only able to effect outcomes with nudges
Then as gravity brings the action down
We get our first flipper shot
Like all firsts a bit clumsy and unsure

CLUNK goes a drop target
A small pay off till we drop the row
Up the right ramp WOOOSSSHHHH
Around the play field down the left ramp

Up, up, up goes the bonus score with every inclined plain orbit

Left right flipper save into an out hole
Whooo Hoooo! Capture was lit!
A new ball pops into the pin channel and into play it goes

The second capture is lit, one drop target from multi-ball!
First attempt falls short, the ball reverses trajectory
Down between both flippers it goes forever lost

Next ball in play four more attempts fail
The fifth finally falls into the drop, two balls captured!
Pin shot starts the multi-ball, JACKPOT IS LIT!

The other balls are ejected, three now on the play field at once!
Jackpot success or failure
We’re in for the ride of our lives

On the pinball table of our fate

The telepathic crickets keep asking why I don’t write a poem about crickets 😉

The scientifically impossible I do right away

The spiritually miraculous takes a bit longer




~ by ClapSo on August 2, 2007.

3 Responses to “Poetry Break #3”

  1. Hey Clapso,
    Nice job on the poems over there!


    I especially like “Oh for the Scent of Land I Long”

    Through another day spent sailing
    As fingers through a tattered glove

    Very Dire Straits
    for Sailor and his Mates

  2. Eh Clapso, why do you not write a poem about crickets?


    I like your poems, they’re really alive and animate.

    I looove every single one of them, they’re charming pieces of work!

    Code poetry is interesting!

  3. Loving them all Clapso, in particular for me the “Casting Teeth, as if Runes”. I can relate to that one. Lol.

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