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So we had geography homework,
And also Latin and Maths.
I didn't do any of those.
We had a study hour, so I was copying the Math answers from the answer keys.
Two of my best friends didn't have any books.
I jokingly said; you can do my homework if you want.
They're doing my homework now.
Oh my ******* god.
A "poem" every day.
Zoe Grace Jun 3
Homework looks at me
I really do not want to
... **** it. Tomorrow.
I just really hate Trigonometry and i won't ever use it in life. That is all.
Algebrarian May 6
Gwen Elison
Southern Utah University

Elliptic Parallel Postulate Haiku
I am a point P
I want a parallel please!
Oh, there’s none for me.

Hyperbolic Parallel Postulate Haiku
I am a point P
There so many parallels
At least 2 for me!

Euclidean Parallel Postulate
I am a point P
Elliptic? Hyperbolic?
No, just 1 for me!
Algebrarian May 6
Joseph Argyle, Andrew Misseldine
Southern Utah University

Today we will be talking about advanced mathematics.
Let out your primal screams now.
It almost seems as if mathematics are a histamine to most people,
But mathematics is omnipresent in every interaction between two universes.
Mathematics is obscenity. We know it when we see it.

Mathematicians are the teenage girls in the back of a borrowed Toyota Camry
Demanding to know “what are we?”
Most people feel the tense shrug and the stiff arm of her companion.
Mathematicians feel the swagger of a braggart uncle at the watermelon-spitting contest.
Demanding more precision than everyone else at the party.
And at the same time they are the children standing up to the bully saying
“My dad can beat up your dad.”
And hoping their opponent doesn’t say “Prove it.”
They always say prove it.

There was a time where proofs were guarded in secrecy.
When braggart mathematicians,
the dogs of rival states who lusted after academic supremacy but not knowledge,
claimed they could prove things without proofs.
Where even a jot in the margins of a notebook done with enough pomp made you a god.
The mathematics eventually rebelled against loose proofs and found its true ecstasy,
Rigor.

Rigor is what separates mathematics from the beasts.
Science dictates the rules of our planet,
and daresay our entire dimension.
However, even scientists struggle with math.
Scientists view mathematicians as,
well, masochists is the wrong word.
I guess scientists acknowledge mathematicians the way most sports view cross country runners. Mathematicians relish doing the parts other scientists do as punishments.
But math is an obscenely illuminating and beautiful subject.

Mathematics needn’t be scary.

Mathematics is really the study of sets.
Sets are the piles of objects curated by the lonely.
The horde exhibits consistent rules.
Every object can be related and grouped with every other object
As can two people find some common ground.
These connections map to constellations across papers meaning more than the papers
And the time they take to construct
We are all connected.
Whether we join each other up or bend down to meet someone where they lay,
We are escaping the void of an empty set.
And the laws of mathematics steady with the same consistency all through whatever ordeal
The chef has challenged diners with today.

There are always rules, and the rules can be trusted.
In this set, joining and meeting are always the same.
They are Idempotent, meaning an operation sticks.
One and done.
Idempotency is the effective lesson which is learned exactly once and remembered forever,
Like the cat who jumps on the hot stove exactly once.

If the definition of insanity is the repetition of a single task over and over again
while expecting different results,
Idempotency is the opposite of insanity.

The human race is one huge set.
Idempotency is how we interact with other people.
It is meeting someone where they are.
We can all be a little better than we were before.
Idempotency is inviting them to raise each other up and join them in the journey.
Cold and calculating
There are equations that need to be solved
I've been contemplating
These situations that'll eventually have to be resolved

Some people leave their mark
Some people bring about change
But it won't change who we are
Instead our species's endangered

The consequences arise from when our heart unfuse
Only a matter of time before we blow the fuse
They call it love, only because they see through abuse
One sided relationships always leave the other used

Claws ready to tear every ligament to shreds
Scream at me, my heart is what broke
Dysphoria won't make me find you dead
It's inevitable that I'm going to croak

There's a reason why they call me magician
I'll confuse your mind, I'll put on a illusion
You'll never notice, without me, there's ok in broken
Your thoughts would never be your own, still harmed by all unspoken.
The thought of death, it pushes me harder
Because overworked bodies don't last longer
This equation backfired because now I'm stronger
Now I'll have to experience the pain for much longer.
Robert Jan 14
like parallel lines
                  
                                        we'll never meet
Poetic T Jan 9
I'm an equation
      that no one added up to.

But you where one
that multiplied the meaning
            of what it was to love.

Never taking way from life,
             you where my equal.

We where a sum of parts
            that made sense.
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 7
I am sorry mum
for everything,
For who I am,
For what i've done.

I am sorry mum,
For everything,
For what im not,
What I havent done.

I am sorry mum,
For staying away,
For being with friends,
For being far away.

I am sorry mum,
That I am ****,
For what I wear,
For the state of my hair.

I am sorry mum,
That my opinions are wrong,
That I spoke without asking,
For the things that I know.

I am sorry mum,
That you think I dont care,
That I have upset the family,
That they never wanted me there.

I am sorry mum,
That you couldnt love me,
That I wasnt normal,
That other people like me.

I am sorry mum,
That I have expressed things,
That I have dropped things,
Caused a mess in your home.

I am sorry mum
That I wanted to study,
That I liked being outside,
And that I looked untidy.

I am sorry mum,
That Im an embarrassment,
Have caused so much shame,
And that I cause you pain.

I am sorry mum,
That im always a disappointment,
Showed you my photos of Africa,
I know now that I shouldnt.

I am sorry mum,
That I didnt have the right friends,
That I didnt wear enough make-up,
That I read about Science, not fame.

I am sorry mum,
For being vegetarian,
For picking out bits of meat,
In front of everyone.

I am sorry mum,
For when I didnt know what i'd done,
And you had to stand on my foot,
Or pinch me ******* my arm.

I am sorry mum,
For going walking,
For not doing house work instead,
Or finding something else to be done.

I am sorry mum,
For my work with charities,
For my love for Africa,
For feeling there so free.

I am sorry mum,
For having weird phobias,
And letting you down,
By mentioning it to others.

I am sorry mum,
That I struggle with Maths,
For being dyscalculaic,
I know this is bad.

I am sorry mum
For causing you sickness,
And for not being there,
I know it looks like I dont care.

I am sorry mum
For upsetting others,
Being the cause of all problems,
And hurting my brother.

I am sorry mum,
For my choice of work,
For the places i've been to,
For not always putting you first.

I am sorry mum,
That I made you so angry,
You had to hit me in the face,
And I made you go to bed unhappy.

I am sorry mum,
That I was quiet in school,
That Claire was my best friend,
That we were both quiet in school.

I am sorry mum,
That I chose Scotland,
For moving far away,
It cannot be forgiven.

I am sorry mum,
For my musical instruments,
I know I dont play them well,
That I gave you a headache instead.

I am sorry mum,
That I played the violin,
At my brothers wedding,
For you- ruining everything.

I am sorry mum,
That i;ve never been good enough,
That I always let you down,
I am just never good enough.

I am sorry mum,
For speaking about family,
For letting you down again,
And the family.

I am sorry mum
That I struggled so much,
You had to put chilli in my mouth,
As I couldnt do my homework.

I am sorry mum,
That I went "home"
That I let the **** happen,
That I spoiled your "name".

I am sorry mum,
That I do not love you,
I have cursed myself and tried,
But I cannot love you.

But I still hear your voice,
And it tortures me still,
And the thought of your anger,
Still gives me chills.

I am so sorry mum,
That I am a failure,
But I am no longer "Emma"...
...I am "Nomkhumbulwa"....
Back to the depressing style sorry :(  This could have been much longer, but think ive bored people enough.  If you can understand it, then thanks.
Pagan Paul Nov 2018
.
The hypotenuse stretched
as far as the eye could see,
across a vast lateral plain
an horizon mathematically perfect.
And yet …
In the main square of the hypotenuse
the town crier bellowed out tidings.
The Triangle Triumvirate was unstable,
the discovery, nay re-discovery,
of the Mystery, the most horrific of Mysteries,
the Mystery of the missing
Fourth-Side.

Dweeb was a box standard barbarian.
Quick to anger, slow of wit.
Like last night at dinner.
He had Three potatoes, his sister had Four.
He shouted and thumped the table,
his angry voice expunging his ire.
Then his sister had explained,
to calm and reassure him.
Three was more than Four
because it had Five letters in it.
And Five is more than Four.
He thought about his axe,
then about his abacus,
and then he ate his spuds.

The Fourth-Side drifted in spacial isolation.
Of course now it wasn't a Side.
Being attached to nothing, it was just a line,
but it had some tricks.
It could coil and curl itself
to form rude words in joined up writing.
It floated on reminiscing,
about the **** angles it had made
with all its previous adjacent lovers.
The memory caused spasms
and it formed into a rude word
that should never ever be written down.

Teena, Dweeb's sister, vomited.
She had kissed a puppy,
and was being sick in the morning,
was she pregnant?
But, it was never a puppy, always a stork.
He mum had told her, warned her
'never kiss an errant stalk'.
Her mum died of the pox, whatever that is.
Something clicked in her head.
Oh! Stork and stalk!
Well they do sound the same,
especially in a harsh barbarian accent.
But the puppy had sneezed
as she had kissed it goodnight.
She thought about her axe.
And then she threw up again.


Equations to be solved #7
Vlad the Impaler was a Barbarian
+
Vlad the Impaler was a Libra
=
Dracula was a Librarian?



Right Angle was worried.
Duly so.
If the Fourth-Side Mystery was solved
he'd have three other Right Angles to deal with,
instead of a sixty and a thirty.
The Triangle Triumvirate would cease.
An intense Quadrilateral Mexican stand-off
would ruffle his perfect two-seventy external.
He had to divert attention away,
far, far away, from the Fourth-Side.
By Jove he had it! Bingo!
Let them try to solve
the Mystery of
The Back-Side.

Dweeb loved winding up his sister.
So he hid her puppy in a box.
But now he was worried.
Was the puppy still alive?
Or dead? Or both?
This may sound like a ****** stupid question
but where did that last thought come from?
Yes!
Yes what?
Yes, it was a ****** stupid question!

Teena though it very strange.
When she rang the dinner Triangle
the cat sat on the mat,
Salivating!
Curiouser and curiouser.
Conditioned response or learnt behaviour?
Teena dismissed the thought line,
she didn't ask ****** stupid questions.

It had no idea
about its status as a Mystery.
The Fourth-Side has issues.
Complicated issues.
It had somehow conspired
to tie itself in a knot.
And spacial isolation had become crowded.
Missing links everywhere, the sofa of time,
excommunicated integers, 1970's wallpaper,
it all floated about in spacial isolation.
Above all Fourth-Side was intensely agitated.
Couldn't anyone quieten that yapping puppy?




© Pagan Paul (06/11/18)
.
My psychedelic washing machine mind on spin cycle!

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/29495/strange-world/
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