Magic for a Monday morning: While you’re finishing your coffee, move your mouse over the EAR OPENER<\/FONT><\/B><\/P> This morning also brings news of The results? Here’s a To my taste but in no particular order, these are the best. This one is based on poems by Imagine now and sing, Here’s a cybernetic haiku, after poems by John Keats and Wendy Dennis:<\/P> You broke my soul Another cybernetic haiku, after poems by Wendy Dennis and John Keats:<\/P> Double dreams (By the way, does anybody know who Wendy Dennis is?) Here’s a cybernetic poem, based A wounded deer leaps highest, A cybernetic haiku, based on poems by Walt Whitman:<\/P> Ages and pink in Sex, A cybernetic poem, based on poems by Robert Louis Stevenson:<\/P> In spite of old delight I suppose it takes investigation of the original poems to tell whether this is inspired imitation, POSTSCRIPT:<\/STRONG> <\/EM>You can download a simple version Magic for a Monday morning: While you’re finishing your coffee, move your mouse over the screen here and here and here. Now it’s time to go to work. What a shame. EAR OPENER This morning also brings news of Ray Kurzweil‘s latest invention: the cybernetic poet, a software program he regards as an aid to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-458","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-main","7":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbvgEs-7o","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=458"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=458"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=458"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=458"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nscreen
\nshame.<\/P>
\n
\n
\nKurzweil<\/FONT><\/EM><\/B><\/A>‘<\/EM>s latest invention:
\nregards as an aid to poets in need of inspiration. The program works like a blender, apparently. It
\nwhips up rhymes and rhythms and mixes in words taken from any poems you choose to feed it.
\n<\/P>
\n
\n
\nWendy Dennis and Ray Kurzweil and love poems by various authors:<\/P>
\n
creating myths
forming jewels from the falling
\nsnow.<\/I><\/P>
\n
\n
the juice of eternity,
the spirit of my lips.<\/I><\/P>
\n
\n
hover’d about,
a lamp from my soul.<\/I><\/P>
\n
\non poems by Wendy Dennis and Emily Dickinson:<\/P>
\n
I’ve heard the daffodil
I’ve heard the flag
\nto-day
I’ve heard the hunter tell;
‘Tis but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake
\nis almost done,
And sunrise grows so near
sunrise grows so near
That we can
\ntouch the despair and
frenzied hope of all the ages.<\/I><\/P>
\n
\n
Offspring of the
voices of all my Body.<\/I><\/P>
\n
\n
And winter comes the streams
And I know that I can see
\nthe foam,
Here is full of dreams.<\/I><\/P>
\n
\nas Kurzweil says, or merely plagiarism. I don’t think it matters much. Not that plagiarism is OK.
\nAs one of my favorite writers has said “nobody owns words.” It’s words-in-combination that make
\nthe difference, distinguishing one writer’s work from another’s. Let’s think of Kruzweil’s
\ncybernetic poet as a sort of recombinant DNA, shall we?<\/P>
\n
\nof the program
\nsend me your results.<\/P><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"