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Man Mar 8
I ask you, what is math?
What are equations?
Factored life.
I charge it is living,
Senseless pained observations which we must make
So as to live another day, so as not to perish early
And die before a just time;
The degrees of life are right.
Man must stand *****, stiffen your spine,
But remain relaxed.
Straighten out your ethics, your morals;
Never forget from where you came.
Your ancestors, this planet.
That you are just in another herd.
No really different than any other animal,
Only in our intelligence.
Which is itself, a gift.
So give thanks to mother nature.
She could use it
In the Bitcoin mathematics
The equations work just right
They add up perfect every day
And they do the same at night

Adding data to the Timechain
Like clockwork, line by line
A ledger of all transactions
And it always adds up fine

Yes, the Bitcoin mathematics
To adjust the block creation
Keeps it close to six per hour
Though spread across all nations

And the math for bitcoin halving
Is elegant, exact, and true
It keeps the issue limited
Which adds up for me and you

Trust the math and trust the code
As Bitcoin keeps on growing
The equations add up neatly
So our money keeps on flowing
You can see this poem on a background here - https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery081BitcoinItAllAddsUp.html
The bitcoin supply formula is on the background, with some explanations.  The math just keeps on working.
Oskar Erikson Nov 2023
boy math dictates
(id stay indebted to him.)
to be loved
(id gift it to him.)
is to settle up.
(id come knocking to collect for him.)
that to be
(id might be nothing but charity for him.)
owned
(id liquidate any asset asked by him.)
is being willing
(Cash or Credit?)
to owe.
Gandy Lamb Oct 2023
0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89,144,233,377,610,987, 1597, 2584, 4181, 6765, 10946, 17711, 28657, 46368, 75025, 121393, 196418, 317811, 514229, ...

The numbers keep getting bigger, time keeps passing, and I get closer to death. I need a faster way to find the nth fibonacci number, or I will starve to death.  I will use dynamic programming to find the nth fibonacci number in O(n) time.

public class fibonacci {
    static int fib(int n)
    {
        int f[]  = new int[n + 2];
        int i;
  
        f[0] = 0;
        f[1] = 1;
  
        for (i = 2; i <= n; i++) {
            f[i] = f[i - 1] + f[i - 2];
        }
  
        return f[n];
    }

I have now found the nth fibonacci number in O(n) time. This represents the fact that if we put our minds to it, we can overcome any obstacle in our way. However, this dynamic programming uses O(n) space, and could be improved to O(1) space. This represents the fact that there is no such thing as perfection, and honing our skills is a lifelong process. However, since I found a polynomial time solution to this problem, I won't starve to death before finding the 10000th fibonacci sequence. This is good, because it represents the fact that African children won't go hungry anymore.
I did it. I found the nth fibonacci number in O(n) time.
Abeer Apr 2023
Ticking away, the time that owes us blood

A distinct galaxy must have

Lipsticks for men and women to kiss where they didn't **** little children and destroy cities

Now again

It's good to hear yourself far away across the street

The softly spoken death sentence

Then screams of abstinence, reoccurring tones of vocal chords tearing up to merciless stretch.

It's a huge shape to draw by a poor weary man

So he decides to join the twisted fate of craze

And then he is forced to the back
The demon whispers "sorry we are full of ordinary man, we don't need more murderers"

Put that thought next to problem 8, a bunch of scribbled lines
Felix Andlar Dec 2022
You life, sinusoidal,
with it's ups and downs,
Touches with cosine mine:
once when it's up,
once when it's not.
And I long for that eternal range,
for you to stay in my domain.
Trigonometric love
Melody Mann Dec 2022
Arbitrary numbers scatter her mind's surface,
Operationally stunted she scurried,
For no deviation could solve the turmoil vested within,
It was hope vested in the cosmos,
An escape adorned in constellations,
The unwinding of a student.
A M Ryder Sep 2022
What is beautiful
About reality
Is what is beautiful
About math
There are
Many things
That have happened
The things that have
Produced this moment
Are at most times
ASTRONOMICAL
Meaning so big
It renders itself
Incomprehensible
Yet.. it happened

Even if the
Numbers against
Stand taller than
The daisy itself
Ever could
It still remains
In the meadow
For you and I
To see
Greater than all created things summed up
And multiplied by immortality,
The LORD attends to every buttercup
And blade of grass and bird and bumblebee.
The greatest knows the least; and every man
His every hair has been accounted for;
And all of him is fitted to God's plan
The earth and chosen people to restore.  
Everything's His to give or take or loan,
And nothing lies beyond His lone control.  
Everything's His, and every thing is known
By Him who sees all parts and every whole.
He understands, both root and all, and all
In all, the flower in the crannied wall.
Robert Ronnow Mar 2022
Should I become a middle school math or English teacher?
Leave my bed early in the morning and return with test papers to grade.
With what authority will I persuade those kids to sit still and perform
      calculations and interpretations.
I won’t be allowed to teach A Good Man Is Hard To Find. Nope, it’ll be
      Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies and Slaughterhouse Five. Novels
      that annoy.
Poems and math are magic. Words and numbers are things no one has
      ever seen or heard or touched.
But the administration keeps them separate. The curriculum’s
      determinate.
The kids are beautiful but combustible. When middle school lets out at
      the periapsis of Earth’s orbit, that’s the face of joy.

The purpose of school is to introduce us to the world’s innumerable
      wonders. The periodic table, World Wars I and II, Huckleberry Finn
      and Jim.
Once a gaggle of teenage girls bet whether I wore boxers or jockeys. I felt
      ambushed and unlucky. Also a bit afraid.
There’s little love lost between the students and the teachers. Expect to
      forget and be forgotten. Information.
I remember Mr. Killian my chemistry teacher. So boring about something
      I now find so interesting and important. He wasn’t boring; I was
      boring.
I remember Mr. Christensen my history teacher. He was fat and funny but
      taught as little as possible. I was known to laugh so hard I cried.
I remember Mr. T my calculus teacher. He dressed everyday exactly like
      Gene Kranz in mission control. I was confused past help so he didn’t
      help.
I remember Tone Kwas my music teacher. He said I was the worst
      trumpet player he’d ever tried to teach and switched me to
      sousaphone. He was right but so what! Playing badly is the best
      riposte.
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