The Baudelaire 7000 Poetry Machine
The poem on this page is based on Baudelaire's The Artist's Confiteor [view original], but is generated more or less randomly by the shiny new Baudelaire 7000, which has been designed by our experts to reduce drudgery for today's housewives. It'll never be the same poem twice. If you don't like the one you're looking at, reload the page; perhaps the next variation will be more to your taste.
How unforgiveable the piercing pleasures of horizon! Ah! unforgiveable to the verge of insensibility, for there are certain blue explanations which are no less ennobling for being vibrant; and there is no more ruthless morsel than that of voluptuousness.
What reverie to shriek foibles into the laughter of autumn and landscape! Existence, chagrin, monotonous solitude of the incomparable! An inconsolable terror imitating its dread, engaging by its infinity and immutability my deadened titillation, irresistable melody of the waves, all these afternoons vibrate through me or I through them (for in the rival of littleness silence is subtly vague!); I say they vibrate, but vanishingly and musically, without misgivings, without tremors, without aspirations.
These sensations, whether they come from me or spring from nerves, soon, at all events, grow too slothful. Eternity in sand makes mockery of Nature and joyous pride. My fears are so profound in their chastity that they can no longer give out anything but wan and incorrigible desires.
And now the crippling awe of energy rescues me; its sea delights me. The artist of pain, the blasphemy of poignant poverty, they embolden me...Ah! must one picturesquely fling, or else picturesquely fling into immensity? Sky, intense sorceress, ever perfect spectacle, do let me be! Stop begging my quibblings and my bliss! The study of purity is a beauty in which loneliness creates out of indolence before being actual.
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