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Qualia, if they exist, describe experience.

Perceptions are frames of consciousness
that define experience: would they be given a number
representing frames per second [FPS].

There must be something to perceive
for there to be experience, and the perceiver:
A machine/dreamer through which energy flows
for perception to occur; neural oscillation cycles
equating to perceptual frames of consciousness
where a frequency would equal a certain FPS.

A moment in a dream, a quale.
The realm of the Oneiroi beckons:

During REM sleep there is no experiential context,
Suppose a dream's content is be sourced from memory:
Thence memory morphs into dreaming. Perhaps the actions
of acetylcholine during sleep disrupt temporality, meanwhile
serotonin and norepinephrine play another role in dream activity;
Were dopamine ever-so minutely implicit in lucidity?

If a dream could be quantized could we identify a quale?
The goal, to prove that qualia exist. Perhaps this 'heavy realm'
could then be described using this qualitative formula, we strive
to produce a quantum of experience.

As analogue is to digital, so digital should be to quanta.
Ah, but who would ever listen
to my nonsense.

I'm just a dreamer
and such a chancer. (Aren't we all?)
Still working on a plausible explanation for SupCom.
False Poets Feb 2015
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant**

instantaneous our love defined,
a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal,
where unlimited immeasurable undefinable

mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind

quantifiable terms of our equation unique
in this poem
no waxing poetic,
excellent pure licked lips
are quantums and quarks visualized
though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from
initial good morning kiss to intemperate
indulgent good night conclusions
submitted here for your
analytical digression importuned

the square root of the continuity equation's solution
is
.......
the cherry blossom accord/equation

”perfumers use aromachemicals to recreate a cherry blossom accord...(an accord is a scent made up of individual aromachemicals, that when combined, create a harmonious blend where none of the individual ingredients are able to be detected on their own).”

the odor of our lustful eyes,

the sweat, a unique commingling,
a sheen of salted oils body bathing,

crushed green petals of peaches,
crumbled together with the softy fuzz shavings,
the sediment of aromatic fruit juices drippings

our blending bottled in our brains,
none other would recognize but we,
to too two smell each other through and over
floors, concourses, cities, disparate distances

our ingredients secreted (secret),
our flavors cell secreted (secreting)
the world’s silly tittering aroma inserted,
our sparking fingertips touching
add a bush burning burnt odiferous

we seat across from each other in an airport
plastic restaraunt and everyone asks out loudly,
what is that smell, feed me that, taste me that,
as we are irradiating the atmosphere,
as we renegotiate our cherry blossom accord,
fresh signatures, updated, harmony of harmonies, notarized

she smiles, I joke, winking,
we must continue
to meet like this,
the fireworks of we,
of us,
to-gather to-gether,
a getting of giving,
she answers:

take me home and
bathe me in love,
give our bodies shelter
from the world outside,
beside a new spice
have I uncovered,
this will require some
discussion+exploration,
the quantity to be added,
the when, and the how!


what is this new ingredient?
asking puzzled and aroused,
she laughs
(a spice already included),
why it’s called
only love poetry






8/23/19 4:55pm
Elena Dec 2018
The hole is deep enough for the two of us
And yet we keep on digging!
To haul each day a heavy load
Is this the life worth living?

I hear the wailing in the distance
I feel the heavy hooves beating down
The stubborn mule never listened
And the steed chased but never found

The gift of life can give or take
Like corn in a drought mid harvest
Corn stalks can grow in numbers
Or growing hunger serves to starve us

So when the wind no longer howls
We will see the trees stop flailing
And when the eyes can see the road
We can trust the sailor sailing.
ArielMarriel Aug 2018
weakness is the bane of my existence.

if strength were an equation,
my weakness would negate it.

please just let me be strong.

i've made so much progress, after all.

weakness is a Demon
i can’t control.

a Demon that will swallow me whole.
Jolan Lade Jun 2018
Shirt on, tie and suit
Rushing out the door in new shoes in hot pursuit after the buss
Onboard, looking for a free seat
Looking for new people to meet
Of the buss, rushing to Uni
Have to be there before eight
I'm late, guess that's just fate
Ready to study, human philosophy
Human evolution, what a catastrophe
A real equation, philosophical question, then the answer and a spicy evaluation
Not what we thought, something we forgot?
I guess not
Thinking really hard
Well, I'm not all that smart...
Reza Bavar Jun 2016
What is a Legacy
What's the equation that leads to the sum that is
A
Human
Life
The curtain draws as it must and
when it's done...
We spill out of this "Life" a grocery bag of idiosyncrasies, neuroses, hypocrisies, and other I-sees
What are we in the end but broken pieces of a puzzle we leave for others to assemble--who cares if the pieces fit.
Someone found a Kind word here
Another a Generosity
A memory of a Lie
Proof of a Cruelty
Acts of Humanity by a human being acting...
Who knows me well enough to define my Legacy?
Who else but "I"
I like spoken word poetry (a lot) and this poem works best if it's read in that type of tone.
We are more than
Our names
Our designations
Our reflections

We are more than
Our present
Our dreams
Our efforts

Breathing canvas
Of the fuel
And the fire
That’s what
Who, we are

You N’ Me
Genre: Observational
Theme: Work in progress
Words are the chemicals
Packed in vials sublime
Untouched pure in time
Their base Property lyrical

Words are the coefficients
Reactants , The Thoughts and Emotions
To balance the emotional equation
Poetic are the words omniscient

Combustible the thoughts, fragile the emotions
Handle with care , the equations
Cold storage processed, refilled
Magnanimous ,the words distilled

Thoughts never too dormant
Never static the emotions
The words a kinetic solution
Potential they have Charmant
Some thoughts  about words

Thank you all, for all your love for this particular piece, today, 28th May, this got selected as the daily!
Will soon respond to everyone, thanks and blessings!!
A balanced act
An equation
where
LHS = RHS

That's all
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Good Life Prospective
Matt Jursin Nov 2010
They say that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.

But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied by...the highlights of passion.

These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.

Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.

Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.

Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.

This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds equal eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...

See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?

This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.

Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.

Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Love, the drug.
Trust Reynold Apr 12
You are my equation but I care not to solve you
You are my frustration but I see not a solution
You are my bad habit but I care not to break you
You are my universe but I choose not to investigate
Your mystery
She kisses me
I'll ask no more questions
L B Aug 2017
I’ve seen genius so fixed on itself
as to be monkeys, squealing
wicked-itchy
watching a record whirl
in the same drugged circle
33 and a 1/3—circa 1969

This—their eternal brilliant conclusion
their e=mc2
This—their Final Solution
their inner-spring
Their convoluted complexity
as the hands of their clocks
fly off, striking me in the face

Alas!
—the equation that would solve
the mystery of whistling “Dixie”
that would feed the dogs
and “seize the day”!

This penetrated groove
This—track, eternally diminishing
toward a point on a label
at which two ***** intersect

and then...
...cease to be....
Drugs and is the Revolution really worth it?
William Eberlein Feb 2013
I love her.

Basic in it's being.
As such is the keeping of it.

A thesis to the "ins" and "outs."
The "ups" and "downs."
The "all abouts."

An equation of this and that.
In direct proportion to the simplicity of directional momentum...

So do we conclude,
equal complexity
to that which was not spoken.

To that which was kept.

Only relenting to a factor of time.

From which
the variable of existence
can evolve itself.

In and of itself.
say goodbye to the bucolic summer
the rafts of winter are upon the banks of your desire
please placate the wild streets of abandonment
let the edges of your neediness
take you into independence
i am less dense than a fly
and more round than the sky
i am a shade too dry for some people's liking
are you wanting a more permanent vacation
the icing on the cake is the real equation
immediate desires all forsaken
our love is worth practicing non-anticipation for
if you kiss me now i’ll be forever liberated
if you show me how
i’ll take you to the 9th dimension
seventeen floors above the world
and we are standing on
an indefinite embankment
i am intimidated by your perspicacity
as the persimmon sun sets upon the horizon
There's chemistry between us
It's written on your face
We're feeling the reaction
It's because I've been displaced.

We work together,
Like an equation,
Stuck here forever,
I can't escape

Now that I've been replaced,
It's a shame, I'm a disgrace
I am not as reactive
I am, well, just misplaced

Maybe our bond was made to be broken.
Maybe I'm supposed
To completely decompose.
Maybe I'm strong, but I don't want to show it
Maybe of something greater I'm composed.
duane hall Nov 2018
As I grow old and the lights are growing dimmer
I contemplate the life of me , a common sinner
I used to think money was  the meaning of success
I couldn't have been  more wrong to that I will confess
You can't make love to money, but many people try
It's for the love of money that many people die
The answer to this question is clearly from above
Take money from the equation and what you have is love.
Carter Ginter Jul 2017
What is ***?
Society paints it as an equation
***** plus ******
*******.
What is virginity?
A concept made up
To keep girls locked down
The breaking of the *****.
Then do lesbians have ***?
Are they still virgins?
Is their *** invalid?
No.
Oral counts.
******* counts.
**** counts.
*** is ***.
**** is ****.
L Aug 2018
What is one plus one.

Well in one case its a child.

One plus another is an angry first.

Two plus one?

Or is it jealousy? Has the story changed?
And now i am lost. Was it one plus one, one plus two, or one plus three?

Two minus one is just sad. Three minus two is straight up depressing. Four minus three would be unbearable.

One plus one can sometimes equal one. When it doesnt equal two.

Two plus one sometimes equals one and also two. Or three. Hopefully not one and one and one. Wait, wasnt there one more? One and one and two? Or one and two and one. Certainly not two and one and one, now that would be ridiculous.

Where am i again? Am i lost? Have i lost myself? Have i lost my way?

One and one can be love or lust. And its nearly impossible to tell the difference. Especially being in the midst of it.

So when adding another variable to the equation, the dimension of the solution is intangible. What is right, what is wrong.

Here i am questioning morals again like some kind of modern day philosopher.

"The ratio of questions to answers in my life is not ideal."
Life is all about balance. And that is one of the hardest things to learn. Cause it takes control. Which is also hard to learn. Then you need knowledge and wisdom to know when to use this control and to what extent. Some people have called me a deep thinker.

JL8 #78 - quote
Kenya83 Nov 15
Then... I only see you. I’m in love with the sparkle in your eyes. Every line of your body. Every broken bit. Every enlightened bit. And every bit you share with me

And even if equation exists, there’s no amount of quantifying a love like this
For now,
Whether in pain or bliss
I’ll roll gods dice, our souls will kiss
Ammar Younas Nov 2018
You're complicated
as Algebra equation
for a law student
Left Foot Poet Apr 2017
“I can calculate the movement of stars, but not the madness of men.”   Sir Isaac Newton**

I can, but only of my own,
the orbits of the stars
within my envisioned mind,
this anti-expanding universe
this black hole of anti-matter
collapsing inward, the gravitational pull calculable
where I, madman creator,
am the sole witness mine self-destruction

I summon fate, luck, random numbers to the dock,
but all pleadingly state it wasn't me,
"I was somewhere else, had to be,
you cannot see my mathematical probability,
ergo i am definitionally
not capable of being guilty-
my orbit of madness
non transferable to you-mans"

who then can I blame?

for-seen poems every where,
upon on every face lay dime store words of bad novellas,
awake to work in dread,
return from it more deadened
and the piety pointy poetry pills
refusing to cooperate,
and the madness equation
has too many answers viable

what shall I title this poem?
PoserPersona Jun 2018
Garments stripped from worn bones and weary mind
Feet dragged on tile; hands grasp plastic veil
Stepping into a tub; near swoon divine
A pure, naked self emancipation,
before the squeaking running metalware  
that erases the daily equation.
Dancing, singing tunes of own devices:
Cupid, Shooting Star, Sister Golden Hair
Rocky Mountain High, American Pie
****** bosses gonna kiss ***** here
Astronauts, cowboys, and rockstars meet here
Best yet, the individual is here

Although merely hidden by a curtain,
all for your view is but a damp shadow.
she used to call herself, Laurein
but i love it most calling her, mine
i know it's a bit cheesy,
but she's the love i couldn't define

i tried math
to find the value of her love
but i found indefinite

i tried science
to search and study
how great she is
yet even Einstein complained;
she's more than we could understand

i tried asking GOD...
and was told,
to just hold your hand, tight
with eyes gleaming with contentment and surprise
"love her for the rest of your life,
for the love she have,
is an equation made only for you"
Sebastian Macias Mar 2018
The body is useless
If the mind does not control it
Manipulating its creative power
With an educated compromise
Between lust and intent
The latter to this equation is
That the mind becomes stale
If your body does not enjoy it
Prospering from it's fruits
Becoming an energetic spark
Heat radiating from the skin
Touching water with power
Such knowledgeable freedom
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