#equation
You ask how long a man can starve
before his ribs spell out the answer—
each bone a variable,
each hollow a parenthesis
waiting to be filled.
The body is a ledger:
subtract the bread,
carry the weight of absence,
divide the last sip of water
by the number of children
who still say father with their eyes.
At night, the stomach writes its proofs
in acids and silence—
Let x be the days without,
let y be the lie of fullness,
solve for z: the point at which
the soul stops borrowing light.
But the hands refuse the theorem.
They dig,
they knead the dirt into a language
even hunger cannot translate—
small fists planting seeds
where numbers fail.
And when the rain comes,
it does not ask for decimals.
It counts in green,
in tendrils that climb the air
like unbroken equations,
whispering:
The sum of all suffering
is still less than one stubborn root.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 7:29 AM UTC
Why must love be so difficult;
like trying to solve for x when the heart
keeps multiplying its ache by zero?
Every answer bleeds out of reach,
chalk dust clinging to my trembling hands,
the board streaked white with
unfinished equations of almost.
Your eyes were the problem set,
beautifully unsolvable;
your silence, a parenthesis
I could never close.
I tried to divide truth from tenderness,
but every fraction screamed your name.
Even the moon mocked me,
hung there like a lopsided question mark,
its light dissecting my want into fractions
of frost and fever.
And still, I keep writing proofs
with the ink of my pulse,
pretending the sum of us
might someday make sense.
So tell me,
why does love always require
so much work to remain
so beautifully broken?
Nov 1, 2025
Nov 1, 2025 at 1:57 PM UTC
Like our planet on a 24-hour cycle, my location is filling with the light of one rotation, transporting me from darkness into light.
The next rotation of my location is the dark side of my spiritual sphere; and the next spin will once again transport me into
the light of day, the light of the world.
We all know that the sun is still in the sky even in the darkest night. Our perspective is from our location. We may be on the other side of the globe--the dark side--but our location will, in one revolution, be filled with light.
We are all caught in this literal and figurative human cycle of day and night.
We need to have faith in this
as we must have faith in
gravity, because the alternative is unimaginable darkness!!!
This knowing is not only
cerebral, but tabulated into a spiritual equation. We must believe because there is no
way around it. We simply
must believe or lose it all.
Our orbit will decay otherwise.
We will cease to rotate on
our own axis. So in a sense,
do or die, because I will
surely die spiritually if I
don't get lifted to that
spiritual space.
There is too much at stake; there is so much to lose if I
don't transcend the earthly
plane of spiritual death and simply believe beyond hope to be freed from the perceived hopelessness and helplessness of our universal existence.
The sun is still in the sky even in the darkest night. We simply must have faith and patience to wait our turn.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 8:59 AM UTC
The stain marked blots of swirled ink
Like a rabid rorschach dalmatian
Whose spots ripple radiuses that splice
And blend jagged lines into a roving equation of pi
Designed to describe the inner most 'I"
That is lost to a world paved in concrete palaces
Where stasis has become the new normal
Amongst the maelstrom of competing voices
Voicing their interpretation as unrequited
Expressions that stresses the individual syllables
Of FREE-DOM against the forces that otherwise
Leave the slate blank so that all that remains
Are empty spaces of what could have been
If ink never stained the page
Nov 7, 2024
Nov 7, 2024 at 9:55 AM UTC
If one fuels
The ego
Ego grows
If one fuels
The kindness
Love grows
Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 3:55 AM UTC
Being single
Is awesome time
It is full of all
All the possibilities
All you will ever have
Any equations
**
X+Y
X+Z
Like wise
I mean all
Sense it
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 8:26 PM UTC
Yemen is a floating failed state spinning in the maelstrom
of flu, COVID, diphtheria, and cholera on one side
and the US backed Saudi coalition on the other.
They float there
like an abandoned oil tanker
floating off the coast in the Red Sea
threatening to spill 1,000,000 barrels of crude oil
until entirety turns black—
a sticky substance that’s hard to clean off.
It floats there as a deterrent—a ***** bomb
Houthis hold hostage future generations
with an IED that will injure all of our children—
why have Houthis weaponized the destruction of our planet?
Could it be that we’ve taken their world from them?
The people drop
like a bomb from the sky
in the Shada area of the Saada province.
The country explodes
like a car of 13 Houthis—4 children—
sending shrapnel to every corner of the Earth.
How many children is a terrorist’s life worth?
Keep in mind terrorists could hurt children
or those children could grow up to be terrorists
or a defense contractor could go out of business
so what’s the price of a child relative to those scenarios?
21,000 airstrikes in 5 years
5 years to do the math
every time we try to solve the equation
the answer comes out negative.
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 6:35 AM UTC
A sweet smile is an important part
The formula to capturing my heart
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 5:26 AM UTC
the cherry blossom accord/equation
”perfumers use aromachemicals to recreate a cherry blossom accord...(an accord is a scent made up of individual aromachemicals, that when combined, create a harmonious blend where none of the individual ingredients are able to be detected on their own).”
the odor of our lustful eyes,
the sweat, a unique commingling,
a sheen of salted oils body bathing,
crushed green petals of peaches,
crumbled together with the softy fuzz shavings,
the sediment of aromatic fruit juices drippings
our blending bottled in our brains,
none other would recognize but we,
to too two smell each other through and over
floors, concourses, cities, disparate distances
our ingredients secreted (secret),
our flavors cell secreted (secreting)
the world’s silly tittering aroma inserted,
our sparking fingertips touching
add a bush burning burnt odiferous
we seat across from each other in an airport
plastic restaraunt and everyone asks out loudly,
what is that smell, feed me that, taste me that,
as we are irradiating the atmosphere,
as we renegotiate our cherry blossom accord,
fresh signatures, updated, harmony of harmonies, notarized
she smiles, I joke, winking,
we must continue
to meet like this,
the fireworks of we,
of us,
to-gather to-gether,
a getting of giving,
she answers:
*take me home and
bathe me in love,
give our bodies shelter
from the world outside,
beside a new spice
have I uncovered,
this will require some
discussion+exploration,
the quantity to be added,
the when, and the how!*
what is this new ingredient?
asking puzzled and aroused,
she laughs
(a spice already included),
why it’s called
only love poetry
8/23/19 4:55pm
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
We are more than
Our names
Our designations
Our reflections
We are more than
Our present
Our dreams
Our efforts
Breathing canvas
Of the fuel
And the fire
That’s what
Who, we are
You N’ Me
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 9:05 PM UTC
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant
instantaneous our love defined,
a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal,
where unlimited immeasurable undefinable
mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind
quantifiable terms of our equation unique
in this poem
no waxing poetic,
excellent pure licked lips
are quantums and quarks visualized
though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from
initial good morning kiss to intemperate
indulgent good night conclusions
submitted here for your
analytical digression importuned
the square root of the continuity equation's solution
is
.......
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
The equation between us
If ever were coercioned to exist
It shall be shared with a binary operation
That says 'not equals to'
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 9:08 AM UTC
A balanced act
An equation
where
LHS = RHS
That's all
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 1:10 AM UTC
My life is a mess,
full of ups and downs but,
she is the variable that
constantly keeps my equation of life;
balanced.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 6:27 AM UTC
what is the answer
there should be an equation
but if there was
actually... I think I know
I look at her
she looks at me
we smile
we laugh
and I know
we can spend this life
together
she is here
she is now
we
us
she is life
I love her
she is my answer
me plus her equals us
my equation is her
my answer is her
its only complicated
if you cant see
if you cant feel
'cause each time we walk into a room
you feel the love
we see eye to eye
we feel heart to heart
when can we finally start
cause you are the answer
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Dreams are not too far
It lies close to the Pillows
Plz. don’t awake
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
Height of trust × volume of love × time of togetherness = depth of wound
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
one hundred percent
is an ideal quota
there's perfection
in the quota
that's
the
quota
all
gals
so
love
on
guys
giving
one
hundred
percent
of
their
love
no other quota
will suffice
it's got to be
one hundred percent
that quota
is so nice
why give
forty percent
why give
sixty percent
always make it
one hundred percent
it's a simple maths equation
one and one
equals a well entwined two
and it only happens
when one hundred percent
ensues
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
How long have you been struggling,
with the thoughts and theorems caged inside?
How obtuse the sudden angles
knifing us one stab at a time.
When the equation hangs unbalanced,
we look to correct the path behind
When the choice is always present,
to multiply or to divide.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 8:56 PM UTC
*** is an equation
it seems
And I'm your calculator
Because when I'm with you
You know all the right buttons
to push
All the right combinations
to plug in
To make me your hand-held
property
Your relentless fingers
Unpausing
Pitiless
Unremitting
Lacking every sense of the word
"Mercy"
Despite my begging
My programming goes against me
And I'm forced
to spit out the answer
That you request
So because of your brutality
It's easier to lie
to myself
To lie and say
That I don't want
to keep making equations with you
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 2:52 PM UTC
I've been in love
(or thought I was)
twice now
and I'm only
twenty years old.
I've spent my entire life
practicing the art
of letting go
and I lost track of
my losses
because I've never
been good with
numbers.
I have
added,
subtracted,
divided
and solved
my way back
to you
countless of times
and this is how
I know I am
no good at math.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC