Quinn, Spring, the village and the sea [Full Poem]

This is a poem generated with temperature of 0.31, which is on the low side. the better trained the neural net, the lower the temperature you can go and it not look too repetitive. Already you can see the word Street appear just a little too often. That means this particular neural network has identified that word as a safe bet.

Later we'll generate a poem from the same parameters but with a higher temperature and compare them.

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Quinn, Spring, the village and the sea,
    the soul of the true and of the world, and the faith
    and the minutest of the sky,
    the shadowy storms, the flag of the light and the streets,
    and the fire of the dead,
    nor the other things that come and rise,
    I see the stranger that the stars the streets
     In the streets that wear the storms of singing beams,
     And the sound of the flowers of the sky.
     The spirit starts the straining clouds
      The dark and strength of the hand of the star,
     And the storm and the blue stones,
      Whilst the stream of colours low,
     And set a great cream at the stars
         Of the soul in streamlets that still speak.
     The stars that be the storm of the stream
     And streams of grass and low delightful flowers;
     And the stars that spare the straining storm
     The stars that ride their purple shades
      Where the stream was like a brook,
         And while the stars were strong,
         And the dead stones the streets
         Of the palace of the sea

"I knew I was a big ticket of poetry"

in the track, a spider of secret police and scrapbore

to pass in the street & staring at the bottom of the bust

Telegraph of Consequent to the Companion of the Answerer

the streets of the bus in her belly