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In the beginning it's all a dream
A dream where all of us are numbers
Number one
Number two
Number three

But then all of a sudden the arithmetic
Comes in, numbers that were "equal" now become "more equal"
Greater than comes in lesser than  comes in ,the equality that was unity yesterday becomes a boundary between the numbers.

Moreso the unknowns on the other side of the equal sign.
Some are on left, some are on right.
far from over on the other side of the equal signs there is (x) and (y) all unknown to the other side of the equal signs
Oh no some numbers become determinant(s)of (x)(y)
The slash sign of Power  separates the numerator and denominator  


Mockery at it's peak ;the equal signs are replaced by greater than or less than.
As if that is not enough
In the second method improper fractions emerge as former numbers become decimals
Graphs of anarchy, imperialism, dictatorship and religious annihilation scatter across the x~axis of humanity and y~axis of ideology

Third method
Proud Rounding up/off begins
Continental Arch's mark the trajectory of division along lines
Shapes of character finally emerge
Assume the value of (x) is that "all this is a dream"
Syntax error; this is no dream

This is reality and remains relevant today
Pure maths is yours dear mathematician!
This cry of anguish is rooted to the cat rat relation with my mathematics teachers ;even when mathematics wasn't my cup of tea it still delivers the painful truth we all know and continues to remain relevant in a modern society that boasts of equality and democracy
Adrian Mar 17
In a paperless world,
The mind will never thrive.
So hold your imperial strive,
And anger our inken hive.

You can burn the book,
But the pages still survive.
Yenson Sep 2019
Drunk on polluted farts of the left winds
pulled by long noses into witless pens spewing red ink
artificial energy from Columbia and caffeine powered husks
vacuous soldiers of Mao and Lenin re-drilling Winter Palace debacle
woke world of plastics damaged to plastic pollution by damagers fair

Narrow minded short sighted rabbles humming
Laissez-faire sanctioners regulating home-brewed hocks
equal distribution is hatching Gullivers limb by limp to feed giants
makes sense in the senseless vacuum of bacon slashers by Farm pigs
beasts of every land and clime this is the new world order by crimson

Pol *** psychologists are making the future
cancerous and caffeinated they read minds and pull strings
power is making my bad choices, frustration and inadequacies yours
two wrong makes right and dare see left as a wrong or you are goner
altra right come take lessons on how to mask and leave pointed hats behind......
The pigs gained leadership because they were recognized as the cleverest by the other animals. Someone had to plan out the work, Pigs power rule OK.
Francie Lynch Jan 2019
That's me in the picture,
A collage of brothers and sisters;
I'm held high in my Mammy's arms,
Days before leaving Ireland.

Six months later, in our new home,
On a couch in our front room,
We pose again.
(See the console in our romper room?
It's testament to our boom and boons)

There's thousands of miles between those shoots,
And four million loved ones left behind
In a life and land we won't have again.
(That's the way life was back then)
No Face Time, #MeTime,
Sometimes a landline,
But always a letter in a card at the right time.

Brothers and sisters are missing.
In neglected churchyards,
And yet my mother smiles,
All the while.

Sixty years on, we pose again,
Sharing four hundred years here,
With seven hundred left behind:
Years of Famine and Hedge Schools,
Foreign invasions and Imperial Rule.

We stand *****, shoulders touching,
Between them loved ones missing;
Gone before the shutter opened,
A partial story as pictures go.

We're Irish proud,
Some of Canada's best;
An Irish-Canadian
When laid to rest.
Brothers and sisters died before we left Ireland, and brothers and sisters died after we arrived in Canada. But the six sibs that left Ireland are still alive and well.
Edit and re-post.
Ivy Collins Jan 2019
suffering Clots in my gut
humanity gurgles In my throat
holes drilled into the Veins of the earth
as i taste a country drenched in colonIzed blood on my Lips
a melting arctIc leaks from my eyes
weStern destinies fester in my chest
as the fissures in its surface smoke my lungs out like burning gAsoline
i can Touch each pole with the pads of my fingers
and shake the glassy world
one day i will lay flat and press my tongue agaInst the world
and feel it dissOlve in my mouth
like the fizzy tablet of Nothing it is
Leonhard Jan 2018
The foundation of
our library is
a section we
refuse to see.

Historys largest
collection of stories
just endless tales
of suffering

All of them
both blindly written
and left unread
by all of us.

Too much shame in
our work for
our work to
ever improve.

Everyone an author
even if we only want
to see ourselves
as books.
Akemi Oct 2017
holy ****
these concrete walls
are held by invisible strings
and collapsing
fire.
tear down those ******* towers!
ivory unto silicon unto
no ******* change!

godspeedyoublackemperor.bandcamp.com/album/luciferian-towers
The fonterrorists will go elsewhere
The big boy powers always find a small dot far away from their large splodge
To check and wreck havoc to
It’s got to be far far enough away that if you can smell the smoke,
It’s faint enough that you could mistake it for incense
Or your might twitch your nose
Turn your head and say
Is someone smoking?
It smells like someone is smoking?

When the water is more **** than water
When it is only dry, desitutte,
eroded wasted uselessness,
The fonterrorists will go elsewhere
Somewhere with more utility.
I spoke to this man I met on the street and he told me that while he was on holiday he met a very guilt ridden man who was working for fonterra (read: fonterror) and he told me that they were already laying the plans to move on from colonised Aotearoa once it is all wasted.
Traveler Aug 2017
Don't aim those bombs at Michigan
O Canada ant gonna Stand Idly by
Just saying, if that's your mission
I guess the nukes are gonna fly

Good to remember Red October
Forget Custard's Wounded Knee
Surely a stepping stone
In line with broken statues
Like The Fallen General Lee

Never mind the little man
Behind the neocons
Who just said everything
We know is wrong
Don't believe we come in peace
You know we're not that strong
..
Traveler Tim
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