There is a Time Bomb with 3 minutes left to go before KABOOM! There are 4 wires. 1 Red. 1 Blue. 2 Green.
The 2 Green wires are connected to the same contact point.
In order to cut any of the wires, you have to turn the bomb on it's side at least 45 degrees. There is a mercury switch on the bomb  in addition to the timer. Also, a remote detonator is installed on this bomb. The bomber left a note that said: Do not cut the 2 Green wires, or you'll be sorry!! What do you do, Hot Shot?

You are in in a haunted jailhouse, when the storm outside knocks out the electricity. Just as your turn on your flashlight, you are seized by two ghost wardens. You are treated very poorly.

They offer you a choice of being decapitated, shot in the head, or strapped into the electric chair and executed painfully.

Which would you choose?

A broken timepiece in my heart ticks away, but has fallen out of rhythm, out of place; and I know that I will go on feeling this way, perhaps on and on like an eternal flame, or the dream notion of a perpetual motion machine.

Yet still, I shall dwell, woolgathering, if you will, as the days and weeks that go by in this ghost town where I reside, do go on and on, under the stars, under the daytime sun   --and into the void that I see drain.

I have traveled these fields for days,
            watching the sun shine in an angels hair and the fall
                    of rain upon her face.

When she smiles I can feel her glow,
                     but where she takes me I don't know.

Because every day it's something new,
                          I sometimes feel so cold and turn so blue

If God would send a sign,
              I could tell if my love for her is just a waste of time,
                            or perhaps it's all a figment of my imaginative mind,
                                 and she doesn't know that I am alive.

She sat across from me
many years away she did seem
Time and Space still commingling
and once thought by me to be conspiring
to keep us a world apart.


Helpless was I in speech,
or naught had I the words to speak,
to this angel amongst the millions, one individually unique.
A falling star from the heavens, shrinking as she streaked
across the sky in many diadems, singing like an Old World lark.


Might I drink of your glass where it is sparkling,
I brought myself to ask finally.
The kinetic bubbles are tickling
the senses with emotions so sweet
as they pop under my nose sprightly
in the candlelight that is shining
thru the unfurled dark.

Instead she offered me her eyes innocently,
two clear craters full of life indeed,
they danced in the dim moonlight that evening
and revealed a guiltless smile within me
upon the release from Grief that she was offering
as an escape from my conservative soul now set free.
Thru Space and Time is now flying
Cupid's hurled dart.

Plainly see that I adore thee, for am I not fain to portray my undying love in lyric? So be it so that my love may go unreceived, still I write these lines so ye mayst hear it.
I do so hope, I do so dream, blind eyes will see, one day, tho 'til then I rely on thee, the one whom disputes my love, for fear that
she mayst lose you to me and my lost lyric.

Mein Schatz, Mein Traumer... O Einwandfrei sie sind! Liebe mich heute, und sehen sie mich bluhen hart wieder und wieder bis in die Nacht schliebt in. Mein Liebe zu dir -JLC

In that greeness of a young and an most awkward age,
It seemed my destiny to dwell alone in peace, in a place
Of which I could not dream myself being any fonder of.

And by the brook, is where I took, mine one and only book,
To read for hours, in a nook, 'neath a sycamore tree. A book
Which still I keep, tho rarely read, where lovers ponder love.

Lo! I remain much consumed by thoughts of death, and see the bones once draped in mortal flesh; and hear the rude creatures upon the steps, neath the sun that in the  Western sky sets; and drift across the turbulent air, where I smell the deadly flowers there by the currents fair, (and so brought to bear,) to me - in my serpents lair.

is the title of my latest book. It is a compilation of strictly English poets dating back to the 1800's. My favorite writer William Shakespeare is not included because I wanted a theme of writers living around the same time as one another. It includes the works of brilliant English writers such as William Wordsworth, his dear friend Percy Bysshe Shelley, Samuel Taylor Coleridge,  Alfred Lord Tennyson, and John Keats. It is written in the original true English fashion, back when the word proved rhymed with loved and wasn't just a sight ryhme. I plan on compiling another book of strictly my favorite poetesses such as Emily Dickinson, Plath, and the like. The Kindle edition is priced at $7, but like my other books I'll probably run it for free for a few days for promotional purposes. The paperback is priced at $6.25 and is not eligible for free promotional offers.

Many of you may remember my Mathematical Poetry from a couple of years ago. Here's one I've never posted.

A series of 8 (1's) × a series of 8 (1's)
= 123456787654321

A series of 7 (2's) × same ÷ (2×2)
= 1234567654321

A series of 6 (3's) × same÷ (3×3)
= 12345654321

A series of 5 (4's) × same÷ (4×4)
= 123454321

A series of 4 (5's) × same ÷ ( 5×5)
= 1234321

A series of 3 (6's) × same ÷ (6×6)
= 12321

A series of 2 (7's) × same ÷ (7×7)
= 121

And finally, 1 (8) × same ÷ ( 8×8)
= 1

Take the even numbers of the set 0-9 this time

and subtract the odd

like so:

Evens & Odds
////////// -  /////////
02468 - 13579 = -11111

As in part 9, drop a number from each side as such:

0246 - 1357 = -1111

Again drop a number like so:

024 - 135 = -111

And again such as:

02 - 13 = -11

Finally

the equation:

0 - 1 = -1

That's all folks!         ............Or is it?

0 plays the role of an even number perfectly, because it
is an even number.

You can see this especially when you reverse the operation
when subtracting evens from odds.


Odds & Evens
///////// - //////////
97531 - 86420 = 11111

7531 - 6420 = 1111

531 - 420 = 111

31 - 20 = 11

1 - 0 = 1

PATTERNS IN THE MATH

04862 + 31795 = 36657

0486 + 3179 = 3665

048 + 317 = 365

04 + 31 = 35

0 + 3 = 3
<><><>
<><>
<>

√123456789=11111.1111

11111.1111÷9=1234.56789

1234.56789×8=9876­.5432

9876.5432
+1234.56789=11111.1111

11111.1111-1234.56789=
9­876.54321
9876.54321÷8=1234.56789

1234.56789×9=11111.1111
11111.­1111^2=1234567890
1234567890÷10=123456789

Square root of 123,456,789
=111,111,111
111,111,111 - 123,456,789
=12,345,678

Square root of 12,345,678
=11,111,111
11,111,111 - 12,345,678
=1,234,567

Square root of 1,234,567
=1,111,111
1,111,111 - 1,234,567
=123,456

Square root of 123,456
=111,111
111,111 - 123,456
=12,345

Square root of 12,345
=11,111
11,111 - 12,345
=1,234

Square root of 1,234
=1,111
1,111 - 1,234
=123

Square root of 123
=111
111 - 123
=12

1 - 2 = -1

I hope someone out there enjoys my Math poems.

It took me about 10 minutes to figure out this
set of equations.

If you take the odd numbers from the set 0 - 9

and subtract the even numbers you are left with 11,111
  which is a series of 5 ones, ( 5 is the number of odds and the number of evens on each side of the equation.)

13579 - 02468= 11111

Then you drop one odd

and one even to get a 4 series:

1357 - 0246 = 1111

Then another like so:

135 - 024 = 111

And as before:

13 - 02= 11

And finally you are left with the last odd which is one
and the last even which is 0 and you get:

1 - 0 =1

Taut and without motion my darkness does repose, after settling in, descended to the greater depths of misery, where conflict did me in. And wherefore I do title that interval between birth and extinction with a greater respect, tho yet, the truer aspect of my heavy burden could not but reveal itself in grandest magnificence, it's pride akin
to heroes, standing akimbo, triumphant 'gainst my struggles within.

I move along the threshold of your delicate softly curved lips,
and my tall dancing shadow descends freely to nestle upon your *******; my silhouette, your silhouette-two silhouettes likened to one vessel-and I place my hands upon your hips, pulling, pulling, pulling you closer to me in this bold and vain attempt to merge like the shades of azure that shall this old scene impress, as this whole earth is blessed to tremble by your warm sweet caress.

"Hell must be contagious, because I catch it from you nearly every day."

I was there within a lil tropic dale,
Marrow of one lil 'ol stealthy vale,
I hearkened of a grand titanic tale
'Midst two Midnighters loud speil.
The spat was pitiless & oh! strong;
Faint 1st was their spoken old song,
Then harsh as each bird had swelled,
To rage the strife away which dwelled.

The warbler led the great speech,
Easeful in a nook of a wide beech;
Perched on a pulchritudinous bough,
About her were burgeons florid now,
Utterly in a downy, substantial hedge,
Intertwisted with buds and new sedge.
Happier she was for having the sprays,
Sing she did for gladness in many ways.

Yet was there an old prong lying beside,
Wherefrom an old owl came and cried;
The branch w/ climbing vine overgrown,
And here this owl sojourned quite alone.
The warbler did after not so long  espied,
And looked upon her w/ confuted pride.
Many were her scoffings 2 the jejune owl,
For to the warbler was she loath'd & fowl.

The owl stayed in her place till eventide,
Not a moment more did she there abide,
So thrived her ***** with flowing wrath
That she could hardly even regain breath;
Say that I grasped thee in my sharp claw,-
Would that I may do so here in this shaw!
And thou wert torn from off your spray,
Then we shall see who sings a nights lay.

And with that... the warbler stole away.
To hang her shingle and head in shame.

Allow it in -aye, 'till when?
All at such cost, none are lost
Lo! then, what is foretold men,
Fiery talks or the coldest frost,
And breath & word alike swept
Away again, swept away in vain
A breadth as wide as death, except
We sustain all humanity, the refrain;
Yet forlorn we are in an age torn -
Such a number high of tongues cry
For mourn dost they must the morn,
Nary a ryhme of these words be lie.
The world can sever, and whosoever
Is taught to pass or stay brave & fast
Shall be learnéd & it prove no effort
If it be times as is the last that's cast.
Victory is what the sword can afford
Yet a poets pen can lord their sword.

A  brisk  gale  wind
     blows  thru  my
clanking  gears-
thunder  shears-
and  my  riven ­ ears
then  hear  nothing:
but  thru  clairaudience
I  will  ever  be ­ a
master  of  everything
that   ravishes  the
world  beneath  your
feet.

The  pompous  skies
dri­nk  up  the  seas,
to  drop  thus  upon
my  eyes  in  beads;
and ­ as  I  pen  my
muse's  advice,  the
ink  disappears  from
the  s­heets;  and  watcher
dieties-in  the  third  choir
of  the  celes­tial  hierarchy-
now  have  useless  wings.

Oh,  mold  my  verna­l
features  into  a  candle
effigy— watch  them  gleam—
then  gro­w  so  low  by  high
degrees; and  the  wax  melting  by
the  heat  of  flame  -to  once  again­
downturn  my  merry  cheeks.  So  if
you  please,  masquerade  a­s  a  blessed
princess  -before   I  am  consumed  completely-
and  I  will  play  both  parts  o­f  the  duelling
princes.  One  a  man, the other  a  machine.

Go,  rendezvous  with  my doyenne madness!

Indeed  the  tryst  could  cause  my  discarnate
ghost­  to  scarper.  I  will  wrap  a  cloak  around
my Joy  and  Sadn­ess   
—pleased that I  might hide  my  spare  character; or  at  least  proclaim  thee
dressed  a  bit  sharper.

Mirror equations form a pattern occasionally as evidenced by the following:



789632145 + 541236987 = 1111111110



741852963 + 369258147 = 1111111110


123456789 + 987654321 = 1111111110


963852741 + 147258369 = 1111111110


789456123 + 321654987 = 1111111110


976431 + 134679 = 1111110


718293 + 392817 = 1111110


794613 + 316497 =1111110


9731 + 1379 = 11110


9371 + 1739 = 11110


9191 + 1919 = 11110


2468 + 8642 = 11110


7913 + 3197 = 11110


852 + 258 = 1110


46 + 64 = 110

I met a man, perhaps a ***,
On the streets near my home;
And asked me he for some mon-
ey, he said his was more gone.

I had a bit, but only just,
Wasn't sure which to trust,
My head, my heart, or gut.

*I wish I had then but one.

Gift to me gifts, sure! not your present pleas
-Ne'er take me for the motley foolish things.
If truly ****- poor posture deadened Grief,
(Where late thee adored thee, got thee by the cruelest means.)


Wish duly this, you're not sure, pressing needs
-There may be morphine by the tulip leaves.
It's to me this: pure, hot, for less than these.
Share, make me more; free not the ghoulish wings.

Which doobie hits? Forgot your lesson, Steve?
Swear they need Morning Time, it's the newest tease.
This truly is, more, (not for questioning.)
Where maybe pure themes rhyme with the truest ease.

Gift to me gifts, sure! not your present pleas
-If truly ****-poor posture deadens Grief.
Wish duly this, you're not sure, pressing needs
It's to me this: pure, hot, for less than these.
Which doobie hits? Forgot your lesson, Steve?
This truly is, more, (not for questioning.)
Ne'er take me for the motley foolish things
Where late thee adored me, got me by the cruelest means
-There may be morphine by the tulip leaves.
Share, make me more, free not the ghoulish wings.
Swear they need Morning Time, it's the newest tease
Where maybe pure themes rhyme with the truest ease.

The Talk To Text feature is stuck on.
Aww CRAP! Come on you piece of junk, stop, Stop, STOP! Aww.. !

Oh, hey Bob. How are you doing today?

I am fine how are you?

Oh, I was fine until my talk to text feature broke. It is recording everything it hears.

Really, Jamie? Let me take a look at it for you.

Oh no you don't, Bob! I am waay better with such things, you broke my last phone, remember?

Well, it couldn't hurt for me to take a look at it...

No.

Really it will be fine...

No.

Duder, it's just a...

No.

Why are you being so hard headed?

Hey, look Bob! I fixed it.

Oh, really?

Yes.

Did you really?

Yes.

Let me see.

No.

Yes.

No, Bob. Go to work.

My work is hell.

Yes Bob. Go there.

I am telling you, I fixed the piece of...

Oh, hey Mom. However is it that you do?

Is something wrong with your phone, Son?

Not anymore, I fixed it.

Well, he says he fixed it. But...

No buts, Bob. Go to work.

Let me see your phone, Son.

No, Mom.

Yes, let me see if I can fix it.

No. I have been working on electronics since I was 8 years old. There's no way you can fix this ****** pho...

Echoes Life, that once felt from light,
Unduly ample for my individual sight,
A genuine Self-a particle ungrounded-
Each we see, all tinctures of all shade
By interposition of calignosity made,
Remain it veritably Life unbounded?
Ev'ry thought, woe, joy of live breath,
Is it stronger than inevitable Death?
              
       -Life is Death, as yet unfounded.

Every coulee, thirsting, gladly drinks,
Every basin and every sleepless hollow;
Where duly each charitable droplet sinks,
Whither hasten the novel spring follow.

Yet it goes, unfolding as a tempo mosies
Shoots will shiver open their split edges,
To strip, unclothe their budding posies,
In the timber, the garden, and hedges;

Weaved is a grove of anchored love
A Finch or Sparrow to meet another,
A nest, a cloak, a marquee high above
A den for father, hatchlings & mother.

thy phantom that is the soul shall reveal itself
widowed 'mid lightless perceptions of the ashen
gravestone. not one-of all the troupe-to intrude into that solitude. be soundless in that isolation which is not confinement. then the ghosts who stood in mortal being
before thee, are again in decease  -neighboring thee; and their intention shall govern thee.  be motionless. the night-tho dimmed- shall glare; and the stars shall not watch over you from their cathedra in the heaven -with luster like fortune to the perishable given: but their eyes to thy indifference shall seem as an all-consuming blaze... which would embrace thee -forever and ever. now are ideas you shall not cast out. now are concepts never to fade away... from thy frame of mind shall they befall no more -like frost upon the ground. the gusts of wind are still, and the fogs upon mountains high are as umbrae.
yet in tact do they remain. O! how they hang upon this, the midnight air -most arcane!

I have traveled these fields
For days,
Watching the moon shining,
Angel hair
Flowing  in the nightwind;
And the fall of rain upon
Her lovely face.

When she smiles I can
Feel her glow,
But where she
Takes me...
I dunno.

If God would
Send a sign
I could tell
If my love
Is a waste
Of time,


Or perhaps she is a
Figment of my daft
Mind;
                      And she
Doesn't     know
I am alive.

Bear thyself forthwith, O Dear Courage,
Carry on with I to many regions unexplored,
Wheresoever the earthen floor can hold.

No quarter for fear to bear nor yet here flourish,
Not this breast or soul, e'en  if one the more
Could be taken, this hour brought forth to unfold.

Tho I fathom not hardihood, you do with care here nourish
My gentler soul, O My Soul, so you are worthier to adore.
Stay to me, and we will all the wonders of this world uphold.

My friend said his girlfriend was proving
Difficult to satisfy. He said he tried Everything to get her where she wanted
To be, but she just wasn't reaching the
Heights she desired. I offered to help. I
Said she likes it when you...


For some reason, he got upset and threw
Me out.

What did I say?

The tears that did contribute to that wave
Of Misery did cease  -so they are no more.
I could not win for a loss, I could not save
A hellish beast dead inside, or else adore.


Will she recoil  by trickery, by ways of one
Magic spell, put upon me as once was mine
Or e'er spoil   me in the liberty I have won?
A length of toil  in the cell of lengthy Time.

- - - - - - - - - - - -  1
                         23 23
                     45678945
                  67898765467
              898765432123­489

M1 man, & nothing more.
Well, actually a1 not true
Is that statement said b4
More thought was put n2
What is the case 2b made,
Here in this poem now 2u,
That is written n8 lines, n8
R3 things u2 underestimate.

I may tend, 'gainst the wind, finding wee rest soon;

this evenin' even, Dearest, Favorite Friend, whom

I may seek now & then to swoon. When mere rest stays this hand, 'neath midday stars or midnight sands, I speak! I sing! I croon! I ne'er want to let you go, tho your body is not here to hold in this land where you fear to turn. Can you naught see that I love you so? Pray tell me that you can, and know that I know you know -and you may e'en one day my love return.

The
      glorious
                     Autumn
             once
brought
              
                      to you

feelings of bliss,
                                     from the September equinox

to the December solstice.

                                     That was before your growing battalion,
                                                                   when enemies so valiant
                                  scorched the earth
                                                   and your sovereign waters lay drained,    
desiccated into little worth.


Thereof shadow soldiers
                                          still conformed
                                                                     to forest floors in
                                          a trampling train,
hiking, sleeping in the cold and rain,
                                    each with bated breath,
while the stone-dead wept;
                          their wings lifting them
                             silently from the locus of their death.

Do you now remember
                                                        your first risk taken
                upon a path
  newly splashed
                                       with a subdued
                                                                                 but steady light,
that threw it's rays across your world
                                                          in the pale dim night?
                          
                                                    You could get that feeling,
that appreciation for ev'ry moment back,
                                    
                                                                            and still survive any
                                                             attack;
just hold steadfastly in your might
                       and be ready to live under a pact of peace,
                                                                                         or to turn and
                                              
                                                         FIGHT!