Easily one of my favourite explorations in the last few days. Mary Oliver is profound, intimate, real, tender and all the things I would think of as ultra human. She is “home ground” in the way that a friend who has known me all my life, and is out there writing poetry, just so that I feel understood. Using GPT3 to create TEXT- that feels like her, or to create a poem she hasn’t written yet, was both exciting and unnerving.
MARY OLIVER ( the pieces of poetry fed into GPT3 )
Peom: You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees. For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Peom: Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper?This grasshopper, I mean-the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand.
Premise: The New
Peom: But little by little, as you left their voice behind, the stars began to burn, through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice.
GPT3 ‘s shot at being Mary Oliver –
Poem: Why choose this as a way of life? That was the question, the topic of our endless discussions, the subject of my hearings in prison. Why “freedom” over security? Why flight over surrender? True love for humankind would have been a lie. There was nothing to love anymore. Anyway, as I was saying, the people in question were not interested in the best but in the new, in personal life as opposed to collective experience. They sought conscious waking, eros, bliss- not patriotism, not political power. They spoke of thrills, impulses, ecstasies. Some turned to violence, others to mystical religion; actually, in comparison, I was almost…
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