When lofty pride corrupts a beautiful mind,
when egotism infects the freshman's brain,
the genius who was the meek, lowly kind,
transforms into a dangerous, mad strain.
The brilliant brainiac who has turned vain,
the Putnam Fellow whose profoundest math,
and theorems caused his rivals so much pain,
precariously embarks on a Faustian path.
But life bathes us all in its humble bath,
and brings us back to a less sinful state,
which turns away the heavenly, sore wrath
of God and thus redeems our earthly fate.
If haughtiness keeps us from the more straight
and narrow, then patiently grace will wait.
AI isn’t singular,
it’s a conglomeration
of all the algorithms
since nineteen hundred and fifty
when the imitation game
computed machinery and intelligence,
followed by checkers
followed by thinking machines
followed by LISP.
My only question:
has Artificial Intelligence
learned how
to cook a goose?
NOTES
LISP: an abbreviation of "list processing” a family of programming languages.
1950: Alan Turing publishes "Computing Machinery and Intelligence," proposing the "Imitation Game" (Turing Test) to assess machine intelligence.
1952: Arthur Samuel creates a checkers program that learns to play better over time, marking early machine learning.
1956: The Dartmouth Conference officially launches AI as a field, with John McCarthy coining the term and bringing researchers together to explore "thinking machines".
Late 1950s-1960s: Early AI systems like the Logic Theorist (proving math theorems) and the Perceptron (an early neural network) are developed, alongside the creation of the LISP programming language.
~From AI Overview (AI giving a history about itself.. Can we trust it?)
Science
never answers
the primary
questions
it ponders
in circles
deck chairs
rearranged
Reciprocal
theorems
of self
aggrandizement
indentured
to kingdoms
where dilettantes
reign
Why
is there love
why
is there war
why
are we human
why
do we grieve
Why
do we question
why
is there joy
why
are there feelings
that
foster belief
Is
consciousness
timeless
do thoughts ever die
is prescience
a quotient
does truth
ever lie
Is looking
for answers
outside the true
realm
the act that
betrays us
and damns us
— to hell
(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
Two plus two equals four...unless it doesn’t.
Every young student learns the rules… as taught them.
Higher education muddles it all…with complex theorems.
Axioms, theorems, rules of thumb
hypotheses, conundrums
Pursuers of knowledge, those Brothers Grimm ~
Hansel and Gretel’s trail of crumbs
There is a root behind it.There is shade behind.
There is a lap behind, Behind those memories,
There is love behind it.
Another turnover makeover the hope,
One chapter opens, another is closed.
I shouted, I shouted, I shouted aloud,
All in me, all of me, I grabbed it all and threw it loud.
A diagram, I made, a hope, I made pragmatically.
Theorems I learned, but they should be understood
for being learned; how it comes to get something
another is a must.
So if you want to see your soul, you should make
your mirror free of dust.
Acceptance and rejections, solutions and hurdles—that is what we call surviving; that is what we call living.
For some, it is hell; for others, it is heaven.
But we can't judge the book by its cover.
There is accuracy and imperfections in between the chapters. Read it, accept it, but deny the judging and
accept the procedure of enjoying.
I build a house
with words poetic bricks...
Tile all with flourishes
and I paint it with poetry...
In the study room,
theorems,
in the room of love
only poems...
In front, I make a garden
enchanted for my love to pass,
Behind a wonderful orchard
to feed my love,
that is a flower, that is flower...!
Her name is Rosa Margarida Maria...!
For her i build a house,
expecting her to build a home... !
Do not tell me I am but a clever fool
I have sought truth entirely unfettered,
Finding rules for better living as a tool
Among the educated and the unlettered.
I have used my brain for wondering
Do not tell me I am but a clever fool
For spending time issues pondering,
I learned to think for myself in school.
Some think cogitating is not very cool
But many theorems I have composed,
Do not tell me I am but a clever fool
If you’ve not different ways proposed.
Or thought to reason out a proposition,
But, always accepted another’s rule
To think for you seems an imposition
Do not tell me I am but a clever fool.
Written August 26, 2022
Magical Grace
Eternal enchanting spell of grace
No misdirection or levitating secrets
Or sorcerer’s secret cards up their sleeves
Absent the slight-of- hand manipulation of reality
Tricks discarded
No place for hocus pocus
Only the action figure of mystical oblation
Who spins spells of marvels for raptured awe revealed.
Wondering eyes see holy magic moments in scarred hands
Pondering “How can the unexplainable be?”
Unchained real time far from the flesh of dawn to dusk equations -
Spells of Pi theorems unleashed leap into benedictions
Of the infinite infinity
Flashing fireflies of magical grace change face
Whirl,
Shedding shards of conjured deceptions,
To lay hands on clear crystals of dynamic joy -
Leave laughing smiles of awestruck glee -
To see in consecrated clarity the graceful face of God
A spell of grace cast in bounding mystical rainbows
Reflecting in still waters without illusion
3-16-22
Contest: Magical Spell
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Mathematics is tough
Multiplication hard
Mental sums mind boggling
Maths theorems are worse
Mind confused in exam
Maths should be optional
Majority agree
From the Heart
Comes all reality, not reasoned, boring intellectuality.
Banal theorems, dusty old rules, none serve life effectively.
We are human beings with hearts that need tending.
Sensitivity to our blossoming souls need human gardening.
Love is the most potent force for us all.
Not meaningless awards and sheepskins decorating our wall!
Less arrogance, less using others to climb to the top.
No harming others or their property, this all, has to immediately stop!
No, "I count so much more than you!"
As you see this has created a hateful,ignorant, destructive zoo.
From the warmth of our heart is where we must indeed live.
No longer seeking to take, but to without reservation,give!
June 27,2020
5pm PST
Poem # 1317
He was not anyone special, quite an ordinary genius
Questioning her in the middle of her theorems of poetry
"Do you know what is the biggest truth of life?"
It could be the beginning of a lengthy hypothetical moment
Which often starts again, and yet again.
But the conversation was a bit different.
When he assured," The truest realization of life happens
With an urge to live with a wishful heart
We live for that single moment
Among thousands of ordinary floating moments."
On that moment,
A young soul turned to a grown-up
She has nothing, nothing at all
Besides rose petals, and envelopes wrapped in rainbows
Is it worthless? Nonsense?
He still dreams of a glorious victory
With all his scratches on his notebooks
To defeat all the darkness of the soul.
And She uttered an oath touching the sleeping baby face
"One day, victory shall be ours, I promise."
And she had a conversation with a poet last night.
Quantum Duck Soup
On a quest not unlike the hunting of the Snark,
The physicist seeks his elusive quarks,
Those delectable nothings that come in fine flavors,
Dancing through the void like colored party favors.
Their elusive forms leave him vaguely annoyed,
Their lack of substance teasing his mind
With hints of possible future sustenence
Though the harder he looks, the less he finds.
At the last he settles for confining them to books,
Their invisible bodies hung up on invisible hooks.
Strangeness, Beauty, Charm and Truth -
These the four gifts of Spacetime's youth.
What a pity such flavors may never be tasted,
Save by such minds as are themselves roasted and basted
In the merciless ovens of Pure Mathematics,
Where Theorems be bred by eccentric fanatics.
Up, Down, Bottom and Top -
The merry quarks spin on, and never stop.
The bones and brains of their living hosts
Move ever forward, impelled by flavored ghosts.
Tears drenched her pillow,
When everyone sleeps in her villa.
Formulae whirl in her mind,
theorems threaten her like the wild wind.
She turns the book pages faster,
thinking of her strict maths master.
"It's all my mistake,I've wasted my days
If I get an additional day, I will go through,"She pray
She realized her mistake,but she can't ignore.
On the Monday Morning,she hears a knock at the door,
Her mom smiling with a coffee mug in her hands
"Dear,Have you seen the nearby meadowland?
"The raindrops embellished the grasses
and painted our window glasses,"
She cried" nothing enthralls me
and I cannot smile with glee"
Suddenly the clouds burst and it begins to rain heavily
News channel reads"Due to heavy rain,the schools declared holiday"
Her eyes filled with tears again but happy tears
and now the rain enthralled her...
Feb-21-2018
For silent one's contest....
A cup of coffee is turned
into theorems, each taste,
sugariness, and density
carrying its own problem.
He sees his wife as a collision
of equations in time and space…
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