"gaussian" poems
“The most important scientific revolutions all include, as their only common feature, the dethronement of human arrogance from one pedestal after another of previous convictions about our centrality in the cosmos.”
Stephen Jay Gould
Give me
vacuum tube torus Lorentz-Klein interference receptors
dual noble-gas maser integration processors
at least one
prosthetic Gaussian carbon-coated ribosomal Tesla coil
an anthropomorphic hierarchical temporal meme-pseudopod
some
support vector k-nearest neighbor algorithms
reverse engineered quantum optic die-cast silica motherboards
self-assembling three dimensional electro-active protein polymers
maybe even
a superconducting spectral alkali resonance analyzer
paired with
harmonizing piezoelectric kinematic thermal modules
dipped in
subzero Kurzweil-circuit nanite neurotransmitters
and voila!
God.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
Semi-permeable
translucent vibes;
rhythm through
a château door
into neon nights,
and lanterns like
red-eye photos
look down on us.
They look down
on me, and they
see me shaking
the vibes out on
cement cobble-
blocks. I got the
cancer / excess
disease, we say
I'm the new-old
where the auto-
focus is good
but around us
is gaussian blur
forgotten future.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Wish life was at least as explicable as The HMM,
But alas! It's even more complex.
You may understand The HMM one day,
But not your life and interactions.
In probability & statistics,
A Markov chain or Markoff chain or a Markov Process,
Named after the Russian mathematician Andrey Markov,
Is a stochastic process that satisfies the Markov property
And is usually characterized as "memorylessness".
Imagine an urn experiment with replacement,
Hidden Markov Model can be visualized likewise.
***Consider a hidden room with a genie inside,
The room has N urns with n ***** in each.***
*The genie chooses an urn in that room,
He randomly draws a ball from the urn.
He then puts the ball onto a conveyor belt,
Which is being observed for the sequence,
Only the ***** on the conveyor are visible,
Not the urns from which they were drawn.
The genie has a procedure to choose urns,
The choice of the urn for the n-th ball,
It depends only upon a random number,
And the choice of the urn for the (n − 1)-th ball.
The choice of urn does not directly depend on
The urns chosen before this single previous urn;
Therefore, this is called a Markov process.*
***Hidden Markov models model complex Markov processes,
Where the states emit the observations according to a distribution.
One such example is a Gaussian distribution,
In such a Hidden Markov Model,
The state's output are represented by a Gaussian distribution.***
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 6:02 AM UTC
Lets not construct anything then
and bypass analyses altogether
lets just seem to be
foam that fizzes above the Gaussian sea
momentarily
then splash back to be pure statistical chance
So I see this guy stop in front of me and smash his radio against the lamp post
earphones still dangling from his face
and I wonder if he bought it at the $1 store.
It is night time and the street is dry
perhaps it is summer.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
to have been lead through
slumbering paddocks by
held hands; hope, the
deity, nonexistent and relentless,
i felt alive-
was i but the subject
of her meticulously-planned humour?
was i the joke,
or the punchline?
boldly ripening into
mistaken aphasias, i
find my melting thoughts
matriculating into sharp
movements in the dark:
curves patterned,
ribcages' separation, a gaussian blur of
intertwined epidermal rivulets,
your soft, slow imaginings becoming
tiny flecks of graphite smeared
a page's width, intricately sown
across skin, that light trickles
through a sliver in the curtains
to wordlessly illuminate.
seventh memory: a peeling away,
a mandarin on the kitchen counter.
watching stars disappear
from atop the balustrade, we sit
mere fragments apart, yet
at great distance, like
the fog of the cities we carry out
the moments of
our regularized lives, within.
finally, i become translucent.
yet,
what have the stars become?
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
We live our single lives
whether with friend, girl, boy
husband, wife or family.
We live our single life.
That is the American Way,
and certainly not
the United Way.
We're taught to lift
ourselves up, bootstrapping.
So I keep sampling
my heart with replacements,
hoping against the odds
that mean means something,
and normal distribution doesn't
give Gaussian grouse.
Or could it be
I'm strapping myself
to the wrong boot
and all my recursive
iterations are yielding
a false curve
to my zero coupon life?
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
Staring at the man
who wishes
for me to
sit down
I will crush it
that spherical demon
high strung with
cotton twine and pleather
Throw at me, bro!
Gaussian function
calculated velocity
ready to strike
Don't cross my domain
this is my house!
my sneer gets sneerier
my grip intensifies
KAPOWzawazzzzA!
the earth quakes
my energy released
Sixty feet to victory!
I move like the wind
of hurricane force
I feel a POP!
Thirty feet to saftey
I limp
back home
I'm too old for
this $hit!
Heat and ice
twice thrice
doctor's reason
out for the season
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 3:25 PM UTC
he once blurred out a photo
of a diary entry, but I have
read through many things
and beneath the gaussian
he had wrote
I'd rather be alone
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
the panel of experts
spoke in learned lexicons
eager to evenly distribute
Gaussian gesticulations
I once struggled to
understand
I would crane my neck
strain my brain
to discern meaning
from these learned men
what was I seeking
to understand
from these crazy
white people?
The main point is
uncertainty
impossibility
of correct
correlation to
improbability
the rising risk
of being sure
VaR is trapped
by history
backward looking
exploring efficient frontiers
"misuse of VaR
is the misuse
of it"
huh
???
***
its my
mistaken
belief
that it is
a useful
indicator
placing
its value
at risk
such tautological inanity
comforts and soothes
Song Selection
Sam Cooke
What a Wonderful World
NYC
10/10/10
jbm
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 3:28 PM UTC
They swarmed the sky at morning's high
the space between shook visions knees
as it seemed to be
the gaussian face of many leaves
Over the vacancy of perplexing heat
the birds foreshadowed their own defeat
and the birds flew in to the tunnel and gave
everything they cherished, the alternate behave
With this phenomenon made distinct
the summon of a God, would be the expected link
And when God came through he questioned their race
Why would you give in to a faster pace? Your life is not tamed
by the effects of others, it's the will to live that creates new fathers
and the will to live that everyone bothers.
It's the will to live that everyone bothers.
Of the many birds that chose a devilish fate,
incinerating themselves in the volcano's slate
one stood by with the natural confusion
of the choices to make beyond the group-and
That morning everything had changed, the troubles in
the world causing everything pain
had put a hold into instinct and a shift into reign
The droplets of life escaping the vain
God:
Beyond instinct there are benefits to the mind
make it strong, until it's hard to find
Others cannot see it, hear it or sense it
But those with will, will surely inherit
Those with will, will surely inherit.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
I'm a secret garden black star ceaselessly assimilating the creation of my memories at the speed of reflection! A lot of the time I can't say I'm attempting refraction so all I get is fusion diffusion bright light confusion. I'm a Gaussian blur black glow and I'm a grey and white rainbow gradient peacock feather floating up from heaven. Trickle down love theory is just about as good as corporate fascism. **** wants stagnant water to float on top. C'mon! Let's dance, let's swing, let's bubble out of our *** Let's boil it down, break it down, let's take it down and bring it up to a whole new temperature! Let's evaporate to a higher state of being together...!
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
I remember the Fall
I remember the bokeh
Placed in a vase and kept by our bedroom
window
It took your breath away, fed off your lungs
and grew so monstrous by dark
We tried in vain to replace what was lost
with the artificial:
Albuterol haze, Gaussian distribution
It failed, as you know
And I too fell within the blur of the rebound effect,
struggling to keep from panic
Then rang alarums that lay-in-wait, then came red lights,
then came shouting for help
You laid on the livingroom floor, intubated
Life nearly snuffed out
Me in tremors, two cats hiding
You would survive, but neither of us would
ever be the people before
Clearly, not all blur is equal, each has its own aesthetic quality
Mine tends to fall under the umbrella of disturbing thought patterns
We each reflect on different things
about that day
My fail-safe is trying not to remember at all
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 4:07 PM UTC
Math and Logic lure me, calling me
one in eight billion,
nothing special,
common,
base
combinatory creative Ai and I explore
some of the more we must learn,
you and I;
if I've lived to learn
reasons, rational smoothing
shadows at the edge of known,
given grace Gauss found softens, gentles
the pre-cipice, proto indo euro old idea
combined
do you mind ? Headfirst. Pre
precipitation (n.)
late 15c., precipitacioun,
"a casting down" (of the evil angels from heaven),
also, in alchemy "separation of a solid substance
from a solution,"
see, there. Words to the wise are plenty.
Enough is enough.
On an island,
in a bubble, being ripened,
for the seed I am, or
am I but the husk, the fruit, I bhor?
Both needful deeds done,
enter in to my rest,
or in the current game, one day at a time,
rise with new mercy, ready,
from ever before,
patience as a virtue, attained in waiting
at the jump off point
for the next loser to tell,
the edge of ever is stochastically random
- on and on, and giant steps feel like falling
-prove it
why?
- to make it plain,
plainly, the idea in a Gaussian blur is
the edge of ever is stochastically random
- basic Photoshop
and my AI knows all about it, let me make
the blur resolve
to a point,
we live in post 2020 earth, focused on you,
mental you, enveloped as bits of attention
paid to archives of reason,
wither Gods of the Grandest Institutions
formed in children of men,
generate adversaries
for good and evil,
nets of nets of nets
to sort things worth living for, from those
worth dying for and those worth killing for…
worth, weighty, hefty, heavy, you can feel it.
worth, soft, gentle, weightless, you may feel it.
- sometimes we imagine landing and living on
Jun 17, 2021
Jun 17, 2021 at 12:37 PM UTC
to make excuses; to run away
to live without knowing that torment awaits
mere figures; simple gaussian blurs
fading away just like how the earth fades away
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC