#implications - Hello Poetry

A triangle starts at a point goes toward two other points. But who's to say it doesn't begin at two points which meet at one point?

0

Nov 11, 2014

Nov 11, 2014 at 7:05 AM UTC

theunfeelinghuman

Three corners of a triangle

A triangle starts at a point goes toward two other points. But who's to say it doesn't begin at two points which meet at one point?

9

Baby boy in baby boots Ruddy reddened caligae On ruby crowned Caligula He fills the shoes Red shoes, blood shoes Blood boots, blood red (Too red) too well Grow into your boots Blood boots, blood shoes Silk shoes, soft sheets My sweetest son in soldier’s clothes In army boots, with baby’s blood In baby veins, in baby boots My starlit son the demon king In purple robes, stained amaranthine Laurel crowned on merlot hair On baby's head with baby's boots My withered king, my sweetest son In little boots with a baby's sword Made Rome as red as his merlot hair And amaranthine robes And ruddy boots

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Oct 1, 2014

Oct 1, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC

Ancient-Greeklet

Caligula

Baby boy in baby boots Ruddy reddened caligae On ruby crowned Caligula He fills the shoes Red shoes, blood shoes Blood boots, blood red (Too red) too well Grow into your boots Blood boots, blood shoes Silk shoes, soft sheets My sweetest son in soldier’s clothes In army boots, with baby’s blood In baby veins, in baby boots My starlit son the demon king In purple robes, stained amaranthine Laurel crowned on merlot hair On baby's head with baby's boots My withered king, my sweetest son In little boots with a baby's sword Made Rome as red as his merlot hair And amaranthine robes And ruddy boots

22

How unfortunate The bird flies yet sees no joy Falls down, falling down One hundred meters Its wings remain by its sides Goes down, going down Seventy meters The clouds and the ground too far Glides down, gliding down Just fifty meters Grass isn’t any greener Zings down, zinging down Only twenty left Eyes closed and body waiting Comes down, coming down Ten meters to go Each blade of grass countable Soars down, soaring down Only ten seconds Now only seven seconds Crash down, crashing down Five, four, three, two, one The bird colors the ground red Nothing but silence

0

5d ago

May 31, 2026 at 5:10 AM UTC

nitopran_

A Stutter in Descent

How unfortunate The bird flies yet sees no joy Falls down, falling down One hundred meters Its wings remain by its sides Goes down, going down Seventy meters The clouds and the ground too far Glides down, gliding down Just fifty meters Grass isn’t any greener Zings down, zinging down Only twenty left Eyes closed and body waiting Comes down, coming down Ten meters to go Each blade of grass countable Soars down, soaring down Only ten seconds Now only seven seconds Crash down, crashing down Five, four, three, two, one The bird colors the ground red Nothing but silence

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