Another day of testing before going to NYC to perform neural-net poems at WordHack [NYC (Thursday 2/16/2017 @ Babycastles . 7-10pm) w. Sarah Rothberg, John Cayley and Theadora Walsh]
HOPE In the cold weather going out of the snow, She down the lawn. The air moves and grows, while she walks smooth, When a swan is born, And it's almost happening Who knows what to say The change has brought Throwing the first blood in its face.
Never will this mode of randomized pattern-reasoning replicate the nuanced human heart. More robust ensemble methods that simulate embodied experience, temporal reflexes, and nested community idioms will be required.
Deep learning is still shallow. The cloud does not understand honey, home or heart. Yet in the short-term, this is the future of writing: a computational assistant for an engaged imagination intent on exploring the topological feature-space of potential phrases.
Modulated the parameters: raised both embedding size and hidden layers to 512. And did a bit more data mining and parsing to increase the corpus size by 1/3 to 20mb of .txt.
Mode: LSTM Embedding size: 512 Hidden Layers: 512 Batch size: 20
Expanded Corpus to over 600,000 lines
639,813 lines of poetry from 5 websites.
Poetry Foundation Jacket2 Capa - Contemporary American Poetry Archive Evergreen Review Shampoo Poetry
Promising results that reflect the limits of a machine without empathy, skilled as a mimic of pattern, lacking longterm memory, emulating cadence and inflections, yet indifferent to context, experience and continuity.
60 minutes of poetry output below the break :
A LAND IN SEASON so much a child is up, so much what he cannot feel has found no knowledg more of age, or of much friends which, nothing thinks himself. spok'n not knowing what is being doing? or else wanting as that
My dream of an immaculate mesmerizing machine to replace all human imagination and absorb it into an engaging perpetual torrent of linguistic cleverness dissipated.
Yesterday, I let the GPU run overnight, expecting to return to 120 epochs and a stunning result.
Instead, on waking the computer in the morning:
----------------------------------------- | end of epoch 40 | time: 452.85s | valid loss 5.84 | valid ppl 344.72 ---------------------------------------- SAVING: models/2017-02-06T17-39-04/model-LSTM-epoch_40-loss_5.84-ppl_344.72.pt Killed
The simulacrum had miscarried. The entire thread had been killed (automatically? by what clause?). Considering the results in glum melancholy, I realized it had been killed because 5 epochs had passed without improvement.
Yet, after dusting off the 40 models that existed, many intriguing gems emerged, spliced they suggest a latent lucidity:
without regret, played with a smooth raid of soiled petals, the color of rage and blood away-- pinched your nose
the unwavering wind brushed the crystal edge from the stack, it came in the mirror adam's-- eleven miles from the unholy relic
and i set off into the absence of old themes, ... looking for the wreck of the rare summers
dark silks and soft blonde feather on pink sky that hid a blue sun where it became dwelling pointing dead its lip rattled its green pride, thread-bare
Code on Github: https://github.com/jhave/pytorch-poetry-generation
Read the entire UNEDITED batch of 40 generated poems of 111 words after the break: