Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Spam Poetry

Spoetry or Spoems

Recently, a writer received the following message and asked me if I thought it was message sent from another poet, a potential peer. In other words, was the message sent legitimately, albeit a little clumsily since they did not know the name of the sender.

—— Forwarded Message

From: Mitchell Alvarez <blackbirdQx@yourdictionary.com>

Date: Sun, 20 Jun 2010 17:44:48 -0300

To:  [deleted]

is heir to now they look abroad to see, underneath this tree; where lions

roam.

manhatten island swept clean in sixteen seconds and i must seek for mine,

was my uttermost west, and could thrill from the library door, but has gone

astray

—— End of Forwarded Message

The sender’s email address was sufficient to indicate to me that it was spam. I responded that I was pretty certain that the sender was fictitious.  I advised the recipient to treat it like spam:  do not respond and to delete it and not waste their time figuring it out.

I thought I would use it as an example of what spammers do to draw the attention of receivers to pass on malware.  The message content is more than somewhat poetic. It is composed of various lines of poetry from a number of different poems and sounds like quite good poetry since the lines are from very well known poets as you will see from the following reference table that, in its creation, became for me, an interesting poetic puzzle.

A question many ask me is “why are there spammers”? I typically respond, “That is like asking a policeman why there are criminals.” In general, spammers are malcontents—up to no good and are in the business of spreading havoc.

What every computer user must be concerned with is that spam obfuscates malware in order to steal your identity information (usernames/passwords) and will exploit the very avenues that a user uses to access the Internet to hijack your computer so that they can hide the source of their activity. Don’t help them by being interested in what they are doing. My rule of thumb is to focus on your own work, on the people that you do know. Know your network well enough that you will know when the words that they present are not their own by their choice of words, their style, their degree of seriousness. If something they appear to have sent sounds odd, it is likely they did not send it. If an interesting message is sent to you from someone that you don’t know, it is likely they will preface it with, “I got your name from … “. Their reference will make sense if the message is legitimate.

When something seems a little off, don’t be afraid to pick up the phone to check it out.

If you are concerned about being drawn in, strongly consider setting your email program to translate messages to text to prevent inadvertently running malware that can be hidden within a formatted message.  All mail that gets sent to me is changed to plain text.

CH:
gaetswape

I am I am I am I am, I am I am I am I am;
I am I am I am I am, I am I am I am I am;
I am the keeper of a sacred bundle;
I am the keeper of a sacred bundle…
a sacred bundle

This sacred bundle passed down to me
Holds special items— a powerful legacy
Through Blackfoot ceremony I learned
A sense of the mortals whose tools I earned

In a four-day fast, deprived of food, of drink
The importance of life is what I must think
A rite of passage filled with suffering
Up all night, I must remain standing

I bear witness to ancestors’ cautions
Vow and undertake their path and passions
With a vision of the past, I live in the present
To give love and guidance to all I’ve met.

I vow to observe our native customs
Honour in my life all of the sacred items
The bundle holds many secrets I cannot share
In the sacred space, I do not dare.

Carrying my bundle, I fall into a trance
As I honour my creator I both walk and dance
Do not look at me, do not break my stride
Caring for sacredness requires sole, humbled pride.

The sap of the mighty oak runs through my veins
With leaves trembling like aspen as I traverse the plains
My cheeks feel the wind from an eagle’s feather dropped
Remind me to soar higher in a sacred journey I cannot stop

gaetswape!

Everybody loves a clown, so why don't you?

I have news for you. Peter Pan is here! …
In the euphoric state of a remembered dream, She decides,
“Never to grow up.”
from “Pose”, 1996 in Amos, Amas, Amat 2003 pp. 82–83.

POSE
1996

I have news for you.
Peter Pan is here!
He is reborn in a middle-aged woman.
She now buys inline skates.
Tinker Bell breathes a spell
In the updraft of her flowing hair,
Rings a heady impulsive beat into her ear,
Flashes the jeweled sparkle
Of the Northern Star into her eyes,
Frappes visions of clowns and ballerinas
Free from her mind.
Re-sewn tuxedo and cosmetic masque
Paint colourful jester
Donning pointe shoes
That blister her toes
As she pushes aged body
Into a dancer’s pose,
Her thoughts transcend physical being.
Think the rite words,
Soar to heavenly, pink-violet passions of sunset.
Think the light words,
Pony-playfully frolic in fresh fields of daisies.
Think the sprite words,
Find the miracle of parting water.
Feel the transition stage of pregnant delivery.
Think the bright words,
Refin(e)d rip-cord trust in living.
Think the right words.
A roam of intoxicating scents assault her senses.
Dawn cleanly showers its dew-laden grass,
Alberta yields earthy bursts of moist, tilled soil and
harvested crops,
B.C. pines eucalyptus evergreen,
Misty musk of Ontario Falls,
Morning rises her with donkey brays resounding
echoes
In a Singing Valley of majestic Rockies
Fracturing splitting notes of
the mountain’s rippling streams.
Hotly springs her cerebral orgasm of new thought.
Relaxed by noonday warmth
Of sun’s rays embrace,
She experiences sweat-lodge cleansing.
With the lightness of a realization,
She floats into evening’s veiled mystery
of a starless night,
Finds full-moon wonder in gentle rocking
Memory of her mother’s cradling arms.
Transcend into this second stage of living.
In the euphoric state of a remembered dream,
She decides, “Never to grow up.”