Dadadodo Poetry

Decided to have Dadadodo, which I used yesterday, to generate some poetry based on my vanity pages from the old version of AvAngel.com, my perpetually-under-redevelopment web site. Take a look at this:

My body, of the religion,
That of seeing myself in a moment,
Stares ahead.
Always been an existential touch,
And I banish this.
My life, without a link, is in my writing,
To her I’m water,
At the rain comes ecstasy:
It’s gone.

Not bad for an algorithm with no pre-programmed understanding of language, I thought. Meaningless… but in a good way…

I’m Not The Only One

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Badger badger badger,
Mushroom mushroom.

Apart from Claire, is there anybody else who doesn’t find that funny? Claire claimed that nobody does, but both Bryn and Paul laughed.

Haiku

Claire is at work. Kit and Paul are pickling eggs with our new supplies of pickling vinegar.

While the eggs boiled, Paul seems to have used my fridge poetry set to compose a pair of unusual haiku. They are as follows:

this is a sad symphony
about two lovers
and there death by pink chocolate

man with purple hair
woman with enormous friend
sordid drunk mother

Hmm.