Algorithmic Poems

Poems from Moby Dick

These poems were created with the help of a simple program. The process is described in my blog post here.

Poem 1

and it has been hinted what at last rescued him

unawed went on beginning

the pequod meets the rose bud

yoked together and hung pendulous like a caryatid

he patiently sits upholding on his cheeks they

were scarcely ever in it

even in the moonlight I see his power

the coffin laid upon the anvil

i desired to know whether to live another day

but have a way of reaching that point of scuttling the craft

submerged ends could not be the first

man was replaced in his wake

the waters seemed a noon meadow

filled with the circle of my will

it was a reality or a captain

ascending by a rainbow as if leading

two different lives

in its passage through the wall

those mystic rocks too the purest of oil

what shall be divided in the sea

looking at you made you feel completely nervous

mostly lurking in the afternoon of the puritanic sands

chapter the musket for a voyage

in his skull of purpose

such unaccountable odds and ends

against a blue-veined neck the pure element of air

Poem 2

looking over the bulwarks the mariners

morally enfeebled also by the tail

and the truest of all queequeg’s peculiarities

the eternal honor of securing

my marriage

in a shroud

a whale is i a coffin for a spell

but god’s great unflattering laureate nature

i remember the first assailant himself

not however without frequent interruptions from gabriel

his name i have here

the cheerful greenness of complete decay

spreads over her side

now that i think of death

how then if he cuts off one of the limbs?

lithe swayings – coyings – flutterings

the flesh perfectly healed around them

soon enrolled among the tombs

a lipless unfeatured blank

is in all things i could endure it but he’s too far forward

had you descended from the open casements

ere nightfall

that night mingling their mumblings with his officers

this terrible event clothed in the archangel

all sure of its roots expands into two equal portions

the fourth morning a confused wrangling

you doubtless overheard a holy church

insensibly blend with them

take a fancy to be counted down in dollars

the world may be similarly shaped

the best of wives she is

drawing nigh to drowning