A gorgeous formula for force is:
F=dp/dt or F=d(m.v)/dt
By employing mass into velocity.
This formula uses the momentum
To elucidate the force involved
And to deduce the frontage
Of any effect developed

My HP Poem #1625
©Atul Kaushal

From the cliff's edge
you can watch the earth move.

Hover over the waters
and see how the Spirit blows

and broods.  The sea
and all its creatures still crash

and tumble and return
to their deep silences.  

The sun rises and sinks
below the waves.  The curved

ocean clings to earth’s edge,
obedient, except where

something urges it upward.
The voice that calls

forth the mountains and summons
pelicans and wild geese

says to all things, Rise.  
Consent to the upward urge

that calls you out of gravity
into the welter of heat and sound

and color that will not stay,
that you do not own, but may

have for a day, and then
for a night when it falls.

Sneha SK Jun 18

The cold reminisce of foregone winter
forlorn
familiar
fuzzy
over sea-froth, in constant motion.

Gabriel burnS Jun 14

Drunk on liquor metaphors
High and falling fast
No direction in the clouds
Why does winning feel like losing
Why does your image burn
So extraordinarily
On the inside of a skull box
I am tossed away from answers
I’m a coin in the fingers of the sun
The last hundred flips were
Unsatisfactory
The white puffy scarves
Only swirl into themselves
Sympathetic, yet,
Not bothering to reach out
Because
They know they aren’t strong enough
To catch me
Or break the fall
But my lips are wings
Stretching into flight

Amer Pelides May 2

My feet are tired and sore,
from a journey of a day or two.
Strolling from settlement to settlement,
I reach a river gleaming with beams of light.
I sit and stretch my legs wide and long,
Wiggling the toes on my feet.
The river never ceases in its motion,
The life that I call my own has always been a motionless thing.
Seeming to stop and stagnate unlike the river before me,
A river teeming with bounty.
Perhaps my life could be this way,
Full of energy and beauty.
Such a life is worth living,
A life full of opportunity and wonder.
May I live to see it for myself!
A breath of fresh air is all I need,
I prepare to continue the journey.
Up on my feet newly refreshed and rested,
Never shall I stop till I see a life as I see this river
Strong and full of vigor.

Right to the empty parking lot,
Start the lazy figure eights.

Swallows skim the pavement,
showing off their effortless grace.

Pick one and chase it, lean into the turn.
foot peg scrapes the ground but I don't care.
A little more throttle. Hang on to the curve.

The swallow, banking, hovers in the air.
Locked together by the physics of motion,
The universe spins around our shared axis.

Let the bike straighten out.
The swallow banks the other way.

Laughing we break our connection,
grateful for the experience of flying together.

The finest of intricacies,
Clung firmly upon thy wrist,

Harmonious,

Motion drives that beating heart,
It's man who stirs that rotor,

A skeleton of the sturdiest of bones,
Amongst, that movement lay,

Gear's spun all so elegantly,
The very composition of your complexities,

A fluent waltz between man and mechanism,
Interdependence,

Oh what admirable craft of a God.

Regarding automatic watches.
Poetic T Apr 27

Buoyancy keeps me floating above
a tide of seductive
                           deepening

I'm a stop motion venture that will
surprise you with a reality
                                       at its ending..

Wyatt Mar 22

Shaking at the thought.
Is the chaos contained or is it
free to delve deep inside of me?
I know you're waiting.
You have your hand outstretched,
waiting for a smile or a gesture
that says you know what comes next.
When does it let up?
Can we come and take off?
How does it go when you move
when the sign says stop?

Spike Harper Mar 16

How many wish their days were different.
Just how far would one force the wheel back.
How many hours and seconds feel wasted.
On people.
Phone calls that last into the a.m.
Sleepless nights.
Wakeless days.
We call them day dreams.
Because when night falls.
Only nightmares await.
What is it called when the terror recedes due to repetition.
So many ache for a life less frightening.
Constantly swerving to avoid shadows.
Disregarding the dotted lines left by those that embrace an unknown.
That will never be traversed again.
Creating a fear of mistakes.
That only feed the ever growing mass which ironically will never know growth.  
It is too​ perpetual to be called stagnant.
And we have yet to see just how much will be consumed.
It's only when a distinction can be made.
That will cause such a drastic shift in paradigm.
Sending tremors of enlightenment and damnation alike back to the epicenter.
Just to shake down what meager sandcastle stand.
Can one breathe life.
When so many forget to inhale.
Then thrust themselves into an endless void.
which should never have been undertaken to begin with.
Like trying to start a car without first getting out of bed.
Then realize only a tire-less bicycle is all that sits in the drive way.
One Should fear.
For sometimes it is the only drive that can be counted on.

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