Sunday, November 30, 2014


y = mx + c

What is it about Y
Not why about Y
But what.
It sits at the door waiting
For the chime
But inherently
Remains dormant.
If the C was less
and added to the gain
It would change the Y
But only by a little
You see additives
Have limits of arithmetic.
Quiet and plodding
They rise a step at a time.
Throw in meteoric M
And life changes
The potential grows
Exceeds and infinite
The straight linearity
Indefatigable rising
Like Matterhorn
Vertiginous and indomitable
Any X would jump
On this ride
And enjoy the thrust
Of the mind-body
As the climb would follow.
The thrill of the clouds
The fall to the ground
And nothing in between.
And there the why
Within the Y
Sensitive and promising
Yet truly dependent.

M's slope
And gradient within
Confined to the 
Linear in Sine
A dip here
Ignored there
No calamity of thought
No apologies therein.
"Murder" she wrote
"Billions" he said
Confine the Art
Within the science
Not color the landscape
Nor degrade the meaning
But view the virtue
Deep within.
On the deep sea dive
Of a negative M
And the hard C
Both together
Arm in arm
Cajoling and caroling
Drunkards and driven
Lilting and heaving
Up in the climb
Or down in a draft
Held together
At the fulcrum
Of C
Probabilistic Predictors all
Held together by

The failure to reject
Confined by bounds
Not acceptance,
Exposing the tail!
The turmoil grows
Mandelbrot frowns
Pearson winks
At that Y
When the X
Is but a number
Without a Y

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