on code and conlangs

4/16/24

bleh

and it seems that i run out of time
at least once every napo
but what can i say?
life exists and life happens and i procrastinate
and y'know, earl grey milk chocolate ice cream is delish

4/17/24

smiles on the windowpane
(kyrielle; France; at least 2 quatrains, each line has 8 syllables, each stanza has the refrain in its last line, can have varying rhyme schemes)

secret codes intrigued me even
when i was a child who'd weave in
fantasy into the mundane,
drawing smiles on the windowpane

i had nothing to hide, but i
was still so fascinated by
hiding messages in sight plain
i drew smiles on the windowpane

now i call it cryptography
or perhaps steganography
long words, but it's still the same rain
i see smiles on the windowpane


over & understatements
(ars poetica; Rome; a poem about the art/craft of poetry)

this combination of computers and creative writing has always captivated me
and i have noticed i have become too fond of the word always, overusing it, perhaps
but i enjoy exploring all the ways, all the combinations of these interests of mine
and to me, poetry at its heart is a way to experiment creatively, not quite like chemistry
but something unique, of its own, beauty on paper (or the screen), something meant to be
and it can be crafted with logic and rules like conlangs or something programmed
but it can also be spontaneous, or rambling, or random, like solar flares
i guess what i mean to say is i do rather like poetry (an understatement, perhaps)


the side
(blackout poem)
(based on the first poem i published on YWS: The Other Side)

4/18/24

this is the kind of poetry late-night mint does XDD

ads

bad ads on rad additives
add additional madness
to saddened lads and
natty wads, oh drat
sands are a tad bit
gaudy and i had to
jot notes on a pad
ratty dandy ads
go zoom zad zat
-- what's that?
ah, another ad.

4/19/24

a modern-day story
(each line has a reference to a company, browser, OS, etc. =P)
(because really, these names are so funny sometimes)

today i woke up and ate an apple
as i walked to the edge of my room
and marveled at the chrome railings
that were outside the windows.
i cleaned the glass with a soft microfiber cloth
then goggled at the birds that
twittered exciting things outside, eating
blackberries as if they didn't have a care in the world.
then i downed a gram of instant coffee
and when my phone went bing! with a notif,
i snapped it open to chat with a friend,
at least until i had to zoom away for work.
in the lab, i measured a magnetic field in units of teslas
but then a fiery fox broke into the room??
it threw a book at my face and then ran away.
then my coworker sam sung a song.
sam has a bro named s and
oh, right, i owe s some money.
anyways my attention span is like-- ooh, hula hoop!
gosh i have dizzy knees.
probably cuz i did flips on a net.
it was an unintend- oh, actually, i need to go roll down a hill now.
you think you have a tube i could borrow?


the veggie song
(inspiration from @alliyah, who urged me to write about my recent kidnapping - profile.php?u=149699&c=1677323)

oh, to be kidnapped by a tomato,
it makes you quite confused-oh.
though really, it's better than being
kidnapped by celery, cuz at least you're seeing
that you don't have to deal with nasty fumes!
join me for some tunes before the potato zooms
awayyyyyyy~!
i say!
tomatoes aren't veggies; they're fruits
but really, who gives two hoots?
not me, 'least not on april fool's dayyyyyyy


my napo is all over the place this year XDD

4/20/24

light cast by the things that end us
(prompts from @WeepingWisteria and @Ley! thanks for the very poetic ideas :>)

we could be pompeii. yes, a city
preserved by destruction.
isn't that ironic?
tell me, if you clasped hands with my nuclear shadow,
would you pull it to the thunderstorm in the distance?
or stand there as the energy of the blast bleaches
everything (everyone) else?
(in this multiple choice question,
we both know the answer is c.)
i wonder. is that rumbling the sound
of the hunger of the volcano
or the discontent of the thunderstorm?
i make mud pies and cake mud over my fingers
and feed you this imaginary meal.
and then. the time(line) passes.
i feel the mud dry into a cast for my alter ego
and you cast your net into the sky.
when we cast the die, did you know
we were casting a spell of woe?
we are the cast of a box-office bomb.
these bombs we use for our wars with(in) ourselves.
when there is a ceasefire in the war of the skies,
paint expired body glitter onto the shadow i cast.
paint fresh eye shadow onto my body's cast.
cast away your caste system and replace it with sarcasm.
because of course, makeup equals beauty equals equality.
you snicker. easy as pie, easy as 1 2 3--
the next step of this beginner's tutorial to war
is to profit.
sell cellophane, prison cells, and cell phones.
sell your shadow.
sell your city
& everything you will be.

the prompts (that i ended up combining into one poem xD)

Spoiler

A poem referencing a nuclear shadow
A thunderstorm that's only in the distance
The feeling of dried mud
Expired body glitter
poem about war (internal or external)

4/21/24
ahaha i am 7 poetic forms behind... time to catch up!

chain link fence
(decima espinela; Spain; 10 lines of 8 syllables each; rhyming abbaaccddc)

chain link fence stands there in the cold
fluttering wings land quietly
fence for humans, apparently
no defense against things of old
or weather, or rust that is bold
will metal pass the test of time?
claws can help it fail, for a lime
beak can chip away at coating
paint only muffles the clear ring
chain link fence stands there with its rime


warrior moon
(heroic couplet; England; 2 lines that rhyme, iambic pentameter)

each night, the moon beats back the tyrant sun
then yields to slumber once her job is done


ocean perfume
(canzone; Italy or France; usually consists of 1-7 stanzas, 8-20 lines per stanza, hendecasyllabic (11-syllable) lines with end-rhyme or keywords)

once i had a bottle with ocean perfume
before sleeping i would inhale its clean fumes
but then it shattered, and i started to fume
as i swept it away, now sparkling refuse
but still, even from the sharp shards wafted fumes
of that once sweet and salty ocean perfume
though if one asked me to once more the glass fuse,
to that, i'd shake my head and simply refuse


a walk
(silva; Spain; 11- and 7-syllable lines, often with rhymes)

if we were to take a walk
in the woods, or in the field, what would we talk
about? the sky, the sparrows,
the meadows, the grass? or silver-tipped arrows?
or perhaps we would discuss
the world, the towns, the cities, the rest of us.
but to tell you the truth,
i'd be happy with peaceful silence, forsooth.

4/22/24
4 behind now, but Ant's wall post also introduced me to two new forms to try, sooooooo possibly i am 6 behind XD

are we in a sci-fi or a satire novel?
(magic 9; United Kingdom; rhyme scheme abacadaba)

funny how these characters i type
can make figures move on-screen,
can display fruits that are ripe,
can create worlds and games.
funny how we quickly swipe
through our feeds, looking at
photos and clothes and a pipe,
feeling invisible and yet seen.
dust collects; my screen i'll wipe.


in praise of the internet
(izibongo; Bantu peoples of South Africa; oral poetry of praise or possibly criticism)

lo and behold, we live in a web.
and some call this web a trap,
revealing our darkest desires and
the anarchy that comes with anonymity.
but webs are also connection,
are also threads that link us
with our fellow human beings
and remind us that there is more
than ourselves and our bubbles.
yes, nets can trap, but nets can
also catch us when we fall.
and rock climbers know the
value of ropes of safety.
isn't it crazy that we can speak
(nearly instantaneously)
to those across the world?
isn't it wonderful that we can learn
and have access to such an
extensive library of information?
and so, internet, i offer you this praise because
i'm afraid we've gotten too used to your wonder,
too accustomed to this modern-day magic.

4/23/24

idea ikea
(inspired by @JazzElectrobass and my characters xD)

my ideas got lost in ikea
just like a certain sprite and pixie
wandering the arrow-marked paths
flying towards the pretty lights--
did that plant just move? no idea
are the walls trying to eat our fingers? maybe
we should get out of here... some quick maths
will help us set ourselves to rights.
huh. that dream sure caused a fright.
preeeeeeettyyyyy liiiiiights...
aren't the stars beautiful tonight?


cold/hot colors
(based on this super cool idea by @GengarIsBestBoy)
(palette: https://coolors.co/264653-2a9d8f-e9c46a-f4a261-e76f51)

charcoal like your sketches;
art dropped in a sketchy part
of town, charred and holding
holes, not whole;
you told me your stockings were
never filled with coal;
too bad the store ran out of stock;
i would've torn down there
and bought you coal
to draw with.

persian green like your woods;
would you care for me like you
cared for your carpet of green;
perchance i, wooden, dream care-
lessly in the coal-black cold.

saffron like your scents;
expensive, so fond of pens,
pensiveness, and perfume;
recently, you've sent too many
fronds of green to the grave.

sandy brown like your laugh;
great yet grating, a round sound;
grains of sand fall down;
live love laugh lie lose look
at the beach and its
sprinkling of saffron.

burnt sienna like you;
burning bright bumbling bee;
seeing seen soothing sea;
young unique never to be
more than a flicker to me;
the sunlight washes you out like
sandy brown is swept away by waves.
i wave goodbye.

4/25/24
um. so. it's a little past midnight right now and i realized i forgot to write a poem for 4/24 sooooo that'll be my missed day i guess XD

late-night ramblings 2024

the concept of self is hilarious. am i really unique? logically, i know no one else has had the same combination of memories as me, doesn't have the same dna as me, is not the same person as me. but in many ways, i am just another stereotype. i am an asian who is good at math. i am a girl who likes stationery. i am a writer who, try as she might, cannot fully rid herself of cliches and tropes. i am slightly above average in height, average in weight, average in appearance. i list my facts and figures and data and average them but really, i mean, i have a range of skills but what mode is best to operate in and my standard deviation is deviating from standards and i am stringing words together like lettuce on string cheese. let us depart this cheesiness. and sometimes words have no meaning but that's alright because we write to create meaning and if we pour out enough of ourselves, surely it'll eventually make something? we'll make something of ourselves. as if we aren't enough already. as if we aren't three dimensional (how funny it would be if a fourth dimensional being was reading this) as if we aren't real-- isn't reality relative? really, i should be releasing my cells into rem sleep. i think i used to ramble better, but this is what i'm left with, right here, so it shall have to do.