Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Oh, yourisdiction!..

Just before you started
To read my poorly written text,
My muse immigrated
To one progressive country in the West.

My inspiration has expired
Like visa H-1B.
I am exhausted, I am tired.

And night is crooning lullaby.
Firstly published in Very Bad Poetry.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The greatest cyberpoem (English version)

The greatest cyberpoem would be an online application that provided you with an interesting text and a robust interface with which to manipulate it. In other words, a word processor.

Roger Pellett

The would be that provided with an text and a with which to it. In other words, .


Saturday, November 21, 2009

EklaTante im Bus.

EklaTante sass im Buss und ärgerte sich über alles, was das Unglück
hatte, in ihr Gesichtsfeld zu gelangen.

Ungefähr so:

- Ei sowas von unverschämt!
Das is ja alles verHÜNZT,
des is alles verHÜNZT do.
Und do is es ooch verHÜNZT.
Also unmöglich sowas.
Und des, was is'n des da dribba für eines?!
Des is ja noch saaggemol!

Plötzlich druckte der Fahrer die Bremse.
Ungefähr so:

- Brem-

Der Bus stand still.
Ungefähr so:


Und die EklaTante war sowas von empört, dass sie keine Worte mehr fand.
Ungefähr so:

FAZIT: Am Abend sind alle Katzen grün.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

осѣнь золотая или ВОШСПИПО

Верно подданный ветром осенним,
Опьяненный дождем за рукав,
Шел по улице, радужным пеньем
Сотрясаясь и взглядом лукав,
Переводчик Джованни Боккаччо
И прохожих дивил на ходу.
Победил он в себе неудачье.
Он был гением в этом году.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The greatest cyberpoem (German version)

The greatest cyberpoem would be an online application that provided you with an interesting text and a robust interface with which to manipulate it. In other words, a word processor.

das grossartigste cyber-gedicht wäre eine online-applikation, die dir einen interessanten text und eine robusten schnittstelle zur freien textmanipulation zur verfügung stellt.

Roger Pellett

das wäre eine , die einen text und eine zur freien zur verfügung stellt.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Textametr: Se(hakspeare+on²t) 56

Shakespeare: Sonnet 56

Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpened in his former might:
So, love, be thou, although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love, with a perpetual dulness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;

Or call it winter, which being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.

===> ...
===> ...
===> Loading...

Show/hide lyric textametric processing...

(Sweet love)+(renew thy force)+(be it not said)
(Thy edge should blunter be than appetite),
(Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd),
(To-morrow sharpened in his former might):
(So)+(love)+(be thou)+(although to-day thou fill)
(Thy hungry eyes)+(even till they wink with fulness),
(To-morrow see again)+(and do not kill)
(The spirit of love)+(with a perpetual dulness).
(Let this sad interim like the ocean be)
(Which parts the shore)+(where two contracted new)
(Come daily to the banks)+(that when they see)
(Return of love)+(more blest may be the view)

(Or call it winter)+(which being full of care),
(Makes summer's welcome)+(thrice more wished)+(more rare).
(b(ut+y)+ i(i+Whch)+ day(to-all')+feeding),
(To-morrow see again)+(and+o(d+nt)+kill)
(t(he+spiri)+o(f+lve)+(with a elu(prpeta+dnss)).



(b(ut+y)+ i(i+Whch)+ d(ay(to-all')+fe²ing)),
(To-mor²ow se² a²gin)+(and+o(d+nt)+kil²)


:/end of processing...
system shut down

What a crap

What a crap,
Чей-то храп
Hört man oben an und ab.
Intensiv und very sharp
As it were Devils Harp,
Doch выходит, это я.

in my eyes
на лице

Tuesday, November 10, 2009



Thursday, October 29, 2009


there is
only one
immorality and immortality:

Sunday, October 25, 2009


Dedicated to G-Man.

When I'm running across the ruins,
When I'm staring at empty cityscapes,
I recognize your unimposing shape,
Somewhere among the roofs, chimneys and windows.

You're always staying still
With your gray business suit
With your briefcase

Silent. Absent. Present?

I often ask myself,
Whether you ever return home,
Your home sweet home.

Where your beauty sweetheart
Is waiting for you
With a warm kiss
On her lips.

Or perhaps
You'll just vanish,
Just disappear,
As I log off.

No briefcase
No business suit
Just darkness
See also video version of this poem here.


Dear readers,
liebe Leser,
уважаемые читатели,

Welcome to the Wonderland!

I'll write in this blog in English, Japanese, Russian and German. All the pieces in this blog are written by me, Merzmensch.

Enjoy the reading!