Larry Eby
40
I walk a deer path all rigid
with debris, a pale
drift races passed
stained T-shirts tied
as flags in the harbor. I’m
a mirror deep in battle
with interpretation. A wolf
in electric sync. Do I
spark a flame with bedeviled
trees, heaps of dried
leaves, a discharged winter
solstice with a leather glove
soaked in water? Tether
of stars, light-years
as terror. Say I cut
smoke, Morse code
in the ninth month,
a painted black feather-world
to become a framed
reproduction of lakes. I am
windswept grass, a drinking
hawk and I wake each day
a little heavier with peace.
Artistic Statement:
With artificial intelligence and automation infiltrating so much of our everyday life, it begs the question about the space between human and computer in artistic works. On one hand, art without humanity is difficult to connect with. On the other, is artificial intelligence anything more than a construct of the human mind? The work here is a collaboration between the two in attempt to answer that question. I’ve created a program that has read about 10,000 poems and, with some seed words, can produce a very crude—usually meaningless—poem. To me, the program works much like my own mind in that I have a collection of poetic experiences I have read, and the output is almost always jumbled. But it’s the editor who finds meaning, the editor who adds context and connection. These poems become a representation of my own life, not because of the words within its skeleton, but due to the connective language created from editing and rewriting it. The initial text, like all texts, is an aggregation of the texts before it. It’s the final form that makes it personal, unique, and meaningful. To me, this is the structure of a new-age found poem. From the collection of voices in history, a cut of it emerges from within. For more technical information about this poem, you can read this post.
Larry Eby is a software engineer and poet in Seattle, WA. He has two books of poetry, Flight of August (Trio House Press, 2013), and Machinist in the Snow(ELJ Publications, 2015). His work is can be found in Passages North, Smartish Pace, Superstition Review, and others. Visit: https://larry-eby.com/
Return to May 2019 Edition
I walk a deer path all rigid
with debris, a pale
drift races passed
stained T-shirts tied
as flags in the harbor. I’m
a mirror deep in battle
with interpretation. A wolf
in electric sync. Do I
spark a flame with bedeviled
trees, heaps of dried
leaves, a discharged winter
solstice with a leather glove
soaked in water? Tether
of stars, light-years
as terror. Say I cut
smoke, Morse code
in the ninth month,
a painted black feather-world
to become a framed
reproduction of lakes. I am
windswept grass, a drinking
hawk and I wake each day
a little heavier with peace.
Artistic Statement:
With artificial intelligence and automation infiltrating so much of our everyday life, it begs the question about the space between human and computer in artistic works. On one hand, art without humanity is difficult to connect with. On the other, is artificial intelligence anything more than a construct of the human mind? The work here is a collaboration between the two in attempt to answer that question. I’ve created a program that has read about 10,000 poems and, with some seed words, can produce a very crude—usually meaningless—poem. To me, the program works much like my own mind in that I have a collection of poetic experiences I have read, and the output is almost always jumbled. But it’s the editor who finds meaning, the editor who adds context and connection. These poems become a representation of my own life, not because of the words within its skeleton, but due to the connective language created from editing and rewriting it. The initial text, like all texts, is an aggregation of the texts before it. It’s the final form that makes it personal, unique, and meaningful. To me, this is the structure of a new-age found poem. From the collection of voices in history, a cut of it emerges from within. For more technical information about this poem, you can read this post.
Larry Eby is a software engineer and poet in Seattle, WA. He has two books of poetry, Flight of August (Trio House Press, 2013), and Machinist in the Snow(ELJ Publications, 2015). His work is can be found in Passages North, Smartish Pace, Superstition Review, and others. Visit: https://larry-eby.com/
Return to May 2019 Edition