#automatic poetry

[isawhitney]

The Artist Lazily Attempts an Automatic Poem

Thinking thinking think ing I

think

therefore I be I

am I

are we

are grammar

how funny

how queer

how shocking

how terrible

how how how how how

stop

enough of hows let’s give it a wherefore

maybe even a

why

maybe even an

if

or a who

who

who

I am an owl you see

and I will write screeching

my fingers on the blackboard-ish I will

write

of dogs

and emojis maybe

and glue

and glow worms

and all the millions of things I could write about were I a french impressionist or surrealist or some great fashionable artist with the thrill of painting or creation in my water

I love the words but they won’t come to me.

#poem #poetry #poems on tumblr #books & libraries #literature #poems #words #spilled ink #spilt ink #libraries #writing #writing on tumblr #writers on tumblr #I’m taking a class on French surrealism #and a lot of their poets did automatic writing #so I figured I’d give it a spin! you’re welcome André Breton

[diana-andraste]

After three ways in the rain image

when waking your counterimage: he,

the magician. Angels weave you in

the dragonbody. Rings in the way,

long in the rain I become yours.

Unica Zürn, Will I Meet You Sometime?

trans. Pierre Joris

Ermenonville 1959

#poetry #unica zürn #1950s #anagram #anagram poetry #pierre joris #hans bellmer #automatism #hexentexte #intimacy

[youngncrazed]

What's an art blog without angsty poetry

#my art #artists on tumblr #art #sketchbook #bay area artist #original art #writing #automatic writing #poetry #poem #journaling #journal #chicago artist #intuitive writing

[writtennotsaid]

Seeker seek your own, for erosion of one's old truths is only natural. The roots of knowledge can only grow from soil deeply seeded in doubt.

#poems #poetry on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry #spilled words #poets on tumblr #spilled poetry #my awful poetry #automatic writing

[hauntedgardenking]

Silence

Prayers for warmth

My hands are rotten

Maybe shivers in bed

I’m ritual blind

Say something

We’re snow covered

Lost house spirit

You were silver

Windows are frosted

Only heartbeat

Say something

#poetry #poets on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #automatic writing #short poem #it’s quiet

[queen-of-empathy]

Moleskine X automatic writing

#queen of empathy #original poets on tumblr #original poetry #original poem #poetscommunity #female writers #female poets #quotes #literature #writers on tumblr #moleskine #automatic writing #the godfather #nails #manicure #nail inspiration #nail inspo

[emabatis]

The second "Scotch Tape and Paperclips" zine: "Second Fiddle" is here!! This time it's all about games and the games we play to better understand them. Also spaghetti. Get the printable version for free on my itch.io!

If you perchance make something of these games, I'd love to see it!

#my poetry #my art #the sims 2 #the sims 2 premades #viola monty #ts2 veronaville #poetry zine #game zine #cw noose #automatism #fanzine #ts2 #poetry game #puzzle #hangman #word scramble #word search

[iwtv]

“eclipses” from the magnetic fields by andré breton and philippe soupault / succession (2018-2023)

#succession #web weaving #the magnetic fields #andre breton #philippe soupault #web weaving girlies please hear me out ik this one’s automatic surrealist poetry BUT… #rickyisms #mine

[kittenzeke]

"amazed about my resurrection" 🙏

#journal #personal #pic #vent #ventart #dadaism #found poetry #automatic art #nonrepresentational art #art #my art

[a-minus-content]

Morningpages, 12/27/23, SO THE BLUNT CUTS AS THE BLADE FLIES

#poetry #automatic writing #morning pages #stream of consciousness #poems and quotes #poems #daily poetry #poets of tumblr #writing community #handwriting

[libidomechanica]

“Then say Im hungry, and discern my soul would relation to delight”

Her fingers. Then say I’m hungry, and discern my soul would relation to delight. The wild with a stranger and there, bright daughter.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #188 texts #tanka

[lesbienyu]

somewhere in indiana / 30 August 2023

#weirdcore #dreamcore #image macro #poetry #spilled ink #automatic writing #writing #writeblr #photography #vintage #motel

[voidgenderfuckery]

Untitled

by Scythe

Cushioned marshmallows,

floating up the vines.

Their long,

spindly forms,

Like caterpillars in decline.

Shapes. More than shapes, even.

Life. More than life, even.

Perfection. More than perfection.

Cleanliness, the best disease.

Free forming fleas fling down.

They just got their nails done.

And they need to let the screams out.

#poetry #automatic writing #surrealism

[imagesbyjackaldandy]

Fuga Feroz (el Jabalí Satánico) / Ferocious Fugue (el Jabalí Satánico) 2023 - acrylics and oil painting

Special automatic painting I made for El Camino de los Animales, a marvellous book of poems written by Valeria Segura

#imagesbyjackaldandy #artists on tumblr #oil painting #cw blood #automatic painting #Valeria Segura #poetry

[ace-and-ink]

i want your hands

i want one on my hip

one on my chest

i want to be close to you

i want to be pressed into you

to feel your warmth firsthand

i want my hands free and full

i want one to guide you

one to keep you from pulling away

i want to meet your lips halfway, love

i want your breath to mix with mine

to have no chance to speak the words i don’t have

oh, but you don’t exist, love

you’re real, as real as an endangered animal

you’re real, i know you exist

oh, but you don’t exist enough, hun

not enough to touch you

not enough for you to know me

it’s bleeding out of me

spilling on the floor

but that red’s not love, love

there’s enough to fill the lake

the feeling floods me, it leaves me empty

oh, these integral instincts

i know better than to believe i need

all the shame i would forego

just to feel a little less

to feel a little more, love

the music carries me to where i cannot reach

and i’m reaching for you, love

sultry voices and smooth instrumentals

take me to red dresses and black skirts

complete dedication to the words

breaks my dedication to myself

it lets the hands wander

but only if they’re yours, love

a pressure i should not crave

a desire i’d scream to oppose

forgotten favorites are enough to steal me from reality

to take me to slick hair and red lipstick

and make me yearn for a feeling i’d much rather forget

placate me, darling

smother me in you

i want your weight on mine

legs wrapped in legs

hands in my hair

mine cupping your soft face

appease me, sweetheart

i want chapstick smearing

mismatched flavors

i want to be breathless

i want to not need again

yours is an image i’ve seen sparingly

but it will do

you will do, love

satisfy me, honey

i want hands, i want touch

i want a tainted perception of you

i don’t want you, love

i want sensation, i want placation

the heart feels what it wants, the brain accounts for logic

but all is drowned in the body’s desires, love

— RED (but not because i love you)

#i think i may have posted this way back when on main? but i am not testing tumblr’s stellar search feature for this sorry #btw this is NOT about being love. but i promise you will not guess what it is about without prior context 🤪 #also i tried to reschedule this & it automatically posted so if you saw it for 0.1 seconds no you didn’t shut up 🔫 #the patron saint of asexual poets #poetry #poem #poems #original poetry #original poem #original writing #creative writing #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #lgbtq poetry #lgbtq poem #lgbtq poems

[postmodernprophet]

The secret white mind whispers

And it had this to say: And the hippopotamuses were boiled in their tanks, and the tanks won't stop until they've drank at the water hole, and the waterhole is made of wheat, oil, and tar, and Jesus abiding in those fields of wheat was refused food & board for looking a little too effeminate, and who would risk such a thing in our economy? The economy is about disposable income, in come the cash and out comes the cravings for more, out comes the cash out of jean pockets bubbling and bursting forth like improper dew, giving out their due, out and into the world and into the mouths of cash registers and into the pockets of skeletons in parliament and insurance company boards, and god finds no tithe for Him in there, and at the church they also take your money and say that God "can make the money fit through the camel's eye", this is the religion of accountants & sales clerks & egotistical entrepreneur, receiving into their empty dog-like paws, receiving into their palms, the psalms of some obviously secret revelation, and into my palms there is nothing but the insalubrious psalms of my own salvation, and wrapped around my fingers the serpentine phallus that serves me as a pen, and this black notebook much like a void, a ravine into which visions are dispensed with, like corpses thrown from the bridge down below, and a the body of a dog follows after them.

And I had a dream about this ravine and aren't the mountains high? but don't the vultures soar even higher above the peaks? And although they gorge themselves on filth and gore don't they reach heaven before us? And the dream that I had was that we were all stuck down here in the ravine, and in flowed the filth and shit from the world above, all the disgusting juices of humanity, and a series of vultures with human faces and human hands and human teeth forcing our heads down into the muck, slowly turning us into more & more disgusting vultures ourselves, until the transformation was achieved and we'd fly into lone dirty empty kitchen rooms and take our pleasure with each other in the slime with long slimy penises that wrapped around our perches, but at the moment of orgasm me myself that had become a vulture realizes that we weren't down in a ravine, but up on a mountain ridge, and the filth and muck was nothing but the clearest, purest, rainbow filled water possible, and the vultures and their awful penises were purefaced angels with their swords,

And the world of vultures and the world of angels weren't separated but always already there, and through the world of vultures you could see in negative, like the imprint of the sun on the retina, heaven reflected, and in the world of angels you could see in negative, like the footprint that suggests the foot that was there but which is not anymore, hell reflected, and they were one and the same, and we are already in heaven, otherwise the vultures would be there before us.

#poetry #writing #writer #free verse #prose #poem #spontaneous #automatic writing #surrealist #surrealism