Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Alexa Sz Jan 2011
Oh my it is great...
to have this headache...
after trying
to understand
what numbers are real and fake

I don't see
how this will help me
through my course of
Will I ever be
trying to see
what the angle of a chair is again?
or will I ever need to use
how to find a hypotenuse?

I've thought and thought
for a very long time
and came up with a list
of jobs that would ever
need algebra

Math teacher
Crazy Math obsessor
scientist (on occasion)
Someone who builds triangles
kite maker
someone who makes graphs

Too bad that isn't any of the jobs I ever want...

oh how my head burns
and I'm sorry if you like it
I don't mean to offend
but Algebra just aint my jam
I'd rather be painting
or writing
or singing
I'd rather be strumming(my guitar)
be sleeping
or eating
I'd rather
go play soccer
or basketball
or ski
Really I'd just rather be free
free of the confusion
I feel after class
of the helplessness
that I have
towards math

Oh how am I going to survive???

PS. I still have to live through geometry (I **** at shapes)
pre calculous (I don't even know what that is) and calculous (Ugh ***?)

I hope you enjoyed my "radical" poem!
Unity Drain Dec 2013
The aftermath of poorly applied algebra is a scramble of numbers, letters, lonely coefficients, and an unemployed ninjas. These characters are much like those of a barbershop quartet, where members can either harmonize or simply fall flat. All of this depends on the song they sing and the order it is sung; algebra sings a song of SVSCOS (Same Variables Same Coefficients Opposite Sides) What else can come of bad math? Nothing less than a burning hatred for radicals, imaginary numbers, the saying 'PEMDAS', or maybe the fact that if you're 21 you must stay out the bars. This being said, Algebra 2 is very much like a dream; once you wake up, most of it is forgotten, but also in that it can be strived toward and reached.
Anonymous Feb 2016
Dear Algebra,
Please stop asking us
To find your x
She left
Don't ask y
Algebra students
This isn't a poem, but I can't think it's kind of funny.
Crestfallen Jul 2013
Do you remember back in grade eight how we sat next to one another in algebra class?
You'd pester me for answers on everything and I'd help you.
You were always my partner even if we tended to clash.
But once the bell rang you dashed out of my view.

We only existed in the time span of over an hour.
I never told you how it felt to listen to music with you while we graphed slopes
Our classmates complained and still we played it louder.
I never would've imagined that the whole time you had hopes
That we could be together someday , somehow.

Maybe that's why I started to love math so much.
Dear Algebra,
Please stop asking us
To find your X.
She has left
And she will never return,
And don't ask Y.

Walking through imaginary woods
I tripped over a root strangely square
Fell and hit my head on a log
And radically, I'm still there.
Third Eye Candy Oct 2012
In your vision you are the only thing with bloodshot eyes.
You always wear a robe
that speaks seven languages... and a bank of fog is at your feet
nipping at your naked heel.
In your vision you remember how your arms feel in sunshine.
It is intense.

Your can-opener is hissing an etude
that alludes to wise men...
who bathe in miracles
and roam the world,
untarnished in Poverty.
Your can-opener whispers in hush tones
about barbarians at the gate. And they say
' they've come for the Linen ! '

You are not deceived.

In your vision you are the only thing that can backward engineer
a Universe.

On your way back to the homeland of your algebra
you hesitate. “ you may have left your keys in your Other Robe...”
The Robe that hallucinates constantly~ Carrying on about
' The dire consequences of leaving terrycloth alone with the keys '
and, afflicted with Prophesy Tourettes
the piteous tide of doom ' sayeth the robe '
you must suffer.

In your vision, you are the only one
looking for the keys.
Tommy Randell Feb 2017
I love all the fractions of you
The impossible recurrences
Your limited coherence

Your infinite indices and surds
I want all the fractions of you assembled
Into something that can be inferred

A calculus of changes
Your moods and geometries
The simple graphs and intricacies

Ripped apart and redrawn
Such integrations are demanded
If you are to be conformed

The bipolar states
Of your boundary conditions
All the fractions and translations

Do they make any kind of sense?
Is how we define you to be
At all what was meant?

I take you apart, I put you together
The pages of theories
Just an unending treatise

Failing to reach any conclusion
No Quod Erat Demonstrandum
Just Reducto Absurdum

You are a fact of the world
Irrational but constant
The ultimate unity, impossibly distant

Computationally illusive but beguiling
A puzzle and a pathway, inspiring
A clue the Universe has some kind of wiring.

Tommy Randell 16th February 2017
I just thought for a change I would use words from one of my other Languages - Mathematics, of course - to say something about Love being a Universal constant and that Loving means there might be meaning in the Universe too ...
Either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you

when I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.
I had bad blood, a twisted
mind, a precarious

I was hard as granite, I
leered at the
I trusted no man and
especially no

I was living a hell in
small rooms, I broke
things, smashed things,
walked through glass,
I challenged everything,
was continually being
evicted, jailed, in and
out of fights, in and out
of my mind.
women were something
to ***** and rail
at, I had no male

I changed jobs and
cities, I hated holidays,
babies, history,
newspapers, museums,
marriage, movies,
spiders, garbagemen,
english accents,spain,
france,italy,walnuts and
the color
algebra angred me,
opera sickened me,
charlie chaplin was a
and flowers were for

peace and happiness to me
were signs of
tenants of the weak

but as I went on with
my alley fights,
my suicidal years,
my passage through
any number of
women-it gradually
began to occur to
that I wasn't different

from the
others, I was the same,

they were all fulsome
with hatred,
glossed over with petty
the men I fought in
alleys had hearts of stone.
everybody was nudging,
inching, cheating for
some insignificant
the lie was the
weapon and the
plot was
darkness was the

cautiously, I allowed
myself to feel good
at times.
I found moments of
peace in cheap
just staring at the
knobs of some
or listening to the
rain in the
the less I needed
the better I

maybe the other life had worn me
I no longer found
in topping somebody
in conversation.
or in mounting the
body of some poor
drunken female
whose life had
slipped away into

I could never accept
life as it was,
i could never gobble
down all its
but there were parts,
tenuous magic parts
open for the

I re formulated
I don't know when,
date, time, all
but the change
something in me
relaxed, smoothed
i no longer had to
prove that I was a

I didn't have to prove

I began to see things:
coffee cups lined up
behind a counter in a
or a dog walking along
a sidewalk.
or the way the mouse
on my dresser top
stopped there
with its body,
its ears,
its nose,
it was fixed,
a bit of life
caught within itself
and its eyes looked
at me
and they were
then- it was

I began to feel good,
I began to feel good
in the worst situations
and there were plenty
of those.
like say, the boss
behind his desk,
he is going to have
to fire me.

I've missed too many
he is dressed in a
suit, necktie, glasses,
he says, 'I am going
to have to let you go'

'it's all right' I tell

He must do what he
must do, he has a
wife, a house, children,
expenses, most probably
a girlfriend.

I am sorry for him
he is caught.

I walk onto the blazing
the whole day is

(the whole world is at the
throat of the world,
everybody feels angry,
short-changed, cheated,
everybody is despondent,

I welcomed shots of
peace, tattered shards of

I embraced that stuff
like the hottest number,
like high heels, *******,

(don't get me wrong,
there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism
that overlooks all
basic problems just for
the sake of
this is a shield and a

The knife got near my
throat again,
I almost turned on the
but when the good
moments arrived
I didn't fight them off
like an alley
I let them take me,
I luxuriated in them,
I made them welcome
I even looked into
the mirror
once having thought
myself to be
I now liked what
I saw, almost
handsome, yes,
a bit ripped and
scares, lumps,
odd turns,
but all in all,
not too bad,
almost handsome,
better at least than
some of those movie
star faces
like the cheeks of
a baby's

and finally I discovered
real feelings of
like lately,
like this morning,
as I was leaving,
for the track,
i saw my wife in bed,
just the
shape of
her head there
(not forgetting
centuries of the living
and the dead and
the dying,
the pyramids,
Mozart dead
but his music still
there in the
room, weeds growing,
the earth turning,
the tote board waiting for
I saw the shape of my
wife's head,
she so still,
I ached for her life,
just being there
under the

I kissed her in the
got down the stairway,
got outside,
got into my marvelous
fixed the seatbelt,
backed out the
feeling warm to
the fingertips,
down to my
foot on the gas
I entered the world
drove down the
past the houses
full and empty
I saw the mailman,
he waved
at me.
dafne Sep 2014
coffee breath,
violet pigment under eyes,
tiresome sighs.
three hours and forty- one minutes of sleep,
my mind says no,no,no,no
my eyes are heavy
and so is my mood

heart sunken deep as eye bags
wondering if you actually care.
those blue-green eyes,
are they analyzing my feelings,
or algebra?

i just want you to feel the same way,
which is a way i have never felt before

mushy, gushy, stupid poems,
hopeless, delicate Juliet searching for Romeo in her peripherals

little Juliet, wake up, wake up,
go be the lioness you're accustomed to be
sleepily writing my thoughts in algebra class
teacher please don't call on me,
i'm day dreaming about the boy behind
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
    in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
    where wave pretends to drench real sky.'

'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd
that one man's devil is another's god
    or that the solar spectrum is
a multitude of shaded grays; suspense
on the quicksands of ambivalence
    is our life's whole nemesis.

So we could rave on, darling, you and I,
until the stars tick out a lullaby
    about each cosmic pro and con;
nothing changes, for all the blazing of
our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move
    implacably from twelve to one.

We raise our arguments like sitting ducks
to knock them down with logic or with luck
    and contradict ourselves for fun;
the waitress holds our coats and we put on
the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun
    who insists his playmates run.

Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
    like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
    should inflame the sleeping town.

So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames
in dubious doorways forget their monday names,
    caper with candles in their heads;
the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in
scattering candy from a zeppelin,
    playing his prodigal charades.

The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish
in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish
    blessings right and left and cry
hello, and then hello again in deaf
churchyard ears until the starlit stiff
    graves all carol in reply.

Now kiss again: till our strict father leans
to call for curtain on our thousand scenes;
    brazen actors mock at him,
multiply pink harlequins and sing
in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing
    while footlights flare and houselights dim.

Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins
and separate the flutes from violins:
    the algebra of absolutes
explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes
that jar, while each polemic jackanapes
    joins his enemies' recruits.

The paradox is that 'the play's the thing':
though prima donna pouts and critic stings,
    there burns throughout the line of words,
the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion
which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion:
    an insight like the flight of birds:

Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing
the secret of their ecstasy's in going;
    some day, moving, one will drop,
and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals
only to reopen as flesh congeals:
    cycling phoenix never stops.

So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells
of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells
    and heavens till the spirits squeak
surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's
bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks
    away our rationed days and weeks.

Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,
and god or void appall us till we drown
    in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
    the simple sum of heart plus heart.
Sean Fitzpatrick Jan 2014
Resistance of the wind gives
rise to sentience inside,
realization that self is on the
fence of rejection and love.
Feel the hurt eyes looking out to the world,
always with love
and always behind bars.
Relive the old age that
you will experience near the end;
there is nothing to fear,
but fear is real.
Brian Oarr May 2012
You do the math and I'll provide the irrationals,
as I tend to cling to panic in the asymmetry of life.
In this Twenty-First century women still suffer
from laws streaming out of councils of men.
These are not self-stabbing heroines,
they do not ask the heavy deluge of derision.
They are faced with laws stemming from an abbatoir,
from men who wish to usurp the birthright.
Men who have become strangers to their own mothers,
men whose ***** dispense a fouled milk,
men who deserve an **** ultrasound colonoscopy.
So, I beg you to balance the inequality of the equation,
gather our sisters in this non-Euclidean space:
this is one we solve by inspection!
Your love is algebra
I can't find the formula
If I could find the right calculator,
I could define your euphoria.

Your love is geometry
I can't find the angles
If I could prove your theories,
It wouldn't be a shambles.

Your love is trigonometry
I can't figure it out
If I spent an entire notebook, perhaps
I'd still have doubts.

Your love is a mystery
Just as the greatest math
Although worth much,
Seems irrelevant to my path.
cecelia Nov 2014
the miniscule, crystallized phenomena
floating down on their zephyr gondola
to the little children's enchantment.
the wintriness nipping at their stamina
produced petite gloved hands pulling tightly at their jacket.
to rollick the day away was their only commandment.
fast forward a few years, and they'll be learning algebra,
their minds drifting away during lectures on parabolas
to the forgotten days of freedom; they lament
the loss of their fragile frostwork taffeta.
Brandon Webb Nov 2012
she taps he hand, twice.
across the room,
he stares, thinking
into empty air.
others, scattered
tap pencils or fingers
on desktops, booktops
and phone keyboards

the balding man
with black hair:
combed backward
and to differing angles
so that his head is split
stands, above the room
his back turned

his words,
meant for the crowd
reverberate only
along classes fringe
but still take precedence
over nothing
even to them-
academics, outcasts

back of the room
reveals everything
to the observer
trying to see

blue-eyed brunette
glares vengefully
at no one,
just to glare

he looks up once
to watch
as another
pulls up
drooping jeans.
she laughs
at conversation
unmeant for,
and inaudible
to her

today, she smiles
and lets her lip fall
begging, like a puppy
But when they
lose eye contact,
she glares, again

he leaves footprints
on parallel desk
from lounging
then fires himself
to his feet
using stored energy,
and sugar from gum

words bounce along
the walls in the back,
and isolated eyes peer
towards the screen
but hide the fact
that they care

two week vacation
has left their minds
full of everything
except math,
so they listen
to him, while he speaks

but travel backward
in time, with
those closest them
while he creeps,
silent, around the room

she concentrates hard,
on her work
glaring at the page.
he sits a desk forward
feet on floor
neighboring desk full
today, but only physically

blue hat rests
on sketchbook,
its border
barely covering
closed eyes

blond head
implants itself
jokingly, into
smooth shining
white wall
with enough force
to collapse
accidental target

a hand raises
attracting gazes,
at her interest
in forgotten
of future tests

only a few eyes wander
from blue lined notebooks
though the left flank
still chatters, embodying
either a secretive chipmunk
or the breeze which starts the storm

storm clouds appear slowly
in sketchbook, blue hat bobbing
rhythmically in response to active pen

perched above the flock
reminiscent, split headed
papa bird scans the masks
of his shockingly silent chicks

random lecture breaks the silence.
Her eyes aren’t the only ones
Fixed into a steel laden glare
But the chipmunk wind ceases

his questioning glance lands
on uninhabited space,
exhibiting a yawn
which traverses through,
and twists, the faces of
those otherwise engaged

lecture ends with a question,
the scent of nuts blows through
mentally empty classroom
turning desks to predetermined
positions and swiftly inhabiting
three-quarters of the physical class

his steel glare has replaced hers
the latter’s eyes now soft as an infants

within five minutes, his voice
undergoes  a brutal, complete cycle
pleading, congratulating, yelling
and as always, lecturing


preparations for misery-
mundane chipmunk chattering,
jokes and laughs from random
oddities appearing everywhere

blue hat rests in intervals.
Blue coat rearranges
essay for another class

The girl in the sunny plaid
Rolls an orange along her hand

He points at nothing and asks
Nobody something without answer

The left flank, as always
Is turned away, conversing

A sigh rings outward loudly
Everyone glares, nervously,
Everywhere, reward of concentration

After my test:

First paper in, he scans lightly
Sets it down with a scowl
and yawns, twice, breaking the
silent shroud of heavy fog
which is hanging overhead

wandering free eyes witness
down-turned heads concentrating
as much on tests  as on moving
their hands wildly, excitedly
trying to communicate non-vocally

others have yet to detach themselves
from their seats and stride upward,
hopefully more triumphantly
than their sole predecessor

one shuffles now, slowly toward him
his hand shaking as he releases
that  paper, he turns away as it flutters
onto the desk- he replants himself in his

twelve others walk forward
smiling, shrinking, sometimes speaking
and always he glares, triumphant
knowing his success at our failure


his near-sleeping form            
finds distraction, in waking
dreams, jumping back suddenly
breaking from his plank-like state
without speaking. excitement
for approaching weekend is
communicated in the left flank

two girls break the silence
running in from outside            
he glares at them, but laughs

everyone breaks into groups
after the conversation about
mysteriously nutty discarded sock

he runs to the forefront
forehead folded, finger on mouth
no-one notices, but still he glares

he smiles and glares at the floor
his legs swinging back and forth            
tan slacks rustling softly

exaggerated scores bubble in ears            
as they search for their destroyer

in front of forgotten faces falls
the page of a forgotten tome

several yawn, hoping, understandably
that their stretched lips
will pull themselves far enough
to barricade ears from his droning

he kills himself, twice, bumbling
into half-thought chastisements
of the  flittingly flirtatious students
intermingling hoping behind him
causing waves of whispers, laughter
and slightly strengthened chatter

he re-aligns his thoughts quickly
and rambles on again, always

he speaks to her softly
from across a sea of desks
she looks up, panicking calmly
distracted from distraction

in silence, blank eyes turn
surprised at the non-withering
state of her barely living corpse

he asks a question, looking up
a single answer is given
unemotional and short, buy ending
heavy hanging awkward silence

how talented the teacher
who gives his lecture while
still addressing unrelated
student self lectures

the still silence given
in his questioning lull
hangs so loudly the whispers
traversing the classroom appear
silent as finger wiggle
and pencils trace zeros

his extrication, caused by
distractingly thunderous voice
is met with a comment
causing a wave of laughter
starting at his mouth
and extending to inhabit everything

half the time gives
twice the attention
as they concentrate
on keeping him on
the undying topic
of the work we
have already done

they admit defeat
as dusty tome opens
spreading a nutty cloud
causing heads to turn
and words to leap.

from opens lips,
mischievous gremlins
sprout, dancing on
tables and chuckling
away from the sigh
of his down-turned, split
shining, globular mind

he scratches pink ear
with bone pale finger
reading unrelated words

in the center of the room
both mentally and physically
he sits, momentarily quiet
as dark eyes glare past
rumpled pink nose,

blue hat rests on open palms
above dust covered open page
he slips into sleeping state
but picks himself up
and stares though thin borderline
toward shiny rambling forehead

a shutter cord flies forward
the hand at the end pulling hard
but with no affect to the shutters
neither lowering the physical
or raising the mental

the color of non-color pencils
interrupts the class momentarily
as she strides forward to compare
and then criticizes his care

he just sits, smiles and stares

eleven desks lie empty
of one form more than usual
amplifying the arm movements
of the ever ticking seconds

his obscured mouth flings seeds
which sprout into words
before even meeting the worn
blood-colored carpet below

in the main room, sixteen
sit silent, sketching, sleeping
or siphoning the last minute

those left awake, and alive
have come to understand
the numbers on the screen
this being their specialty
in a nutty shell, of course
splitting, as we are, large
crowds of numbers, and us
being teenagers, isn’t that
how we think, in numbers
and ratings of everything
and, sitting in the central
crowd are the talented

the silence of half absence
is pierced, as always by vocal
anomaly, centered around
rows of shining wood
bookrests, but only one
set of hollow, dark-rimmed
vacant eyeballs watches
well-welcomed interruption

he lets us work, standing.
Someone somewhere opens
A large container of nuts
Entire class starts stuffing
Handfuls into puffy cheeks
Absorbing sensations into
Eternally ravenous minds

The apocalyptic mix of noises
Is split again by central
Nutcracker, and those in corners
Glare, smiling, rubbing shadowed
Acne scarred faces
with raw-bitten nails

balding papa bird speaks loudly
transforming his voice, becoming
vocally legendary cartoon duck

the wave of resulting laughter
ends in un-given nut-break
spreading, without speech
the understanding that his
comedic digression will not
meet a quick extinction

we greet the weekend
by rising early
our excuse: competition
to devour the worm

three heads are downturned
peering into textbooks
as the tsunami breaks

the days end starts
and beady eyes peer
in the direction of his
moving head, colored
gothic gargoyle in the
dim cloudlight streaming
through dust coated
slit windows

the room transforms
becoming triumphantly,
grumpily, repeatedly

artificial silence
spreads like a wave
from right back corner
to left front corner
leaving behind
the half of the room
hidden behind the wall
of troublemakers
who will eventually
cause the wall to topple
with the sheer force
of assorted nuts

blue hat is scrunched
under the of a fist
pounding on his head,
result of the decibels
consumed, and produced
by the embodiment
of the thoughts around him
which fall from stuffed
cheeks. Bounce off tables
and spread a sickening aroma
as their shells split
exposing, revealing

red face glances upward
as harsh words split
the widening sea of snickers
his words stop, first time today
as whispers spread wildly
of his speed in delivering answers
seconds later, room is silent
as statement ends and lecturer
turns back to him, offering
as always, another wave
of deep felt, anger hardened
quietly whispered, criticisms

thunderous-rush-voice leads
out of habit and necessity
the minutes following
his behavioral digression
each word stabbing split-headed
pointy-nosed papa bird, their
form a walnut-wood spear
crafted from drifted thoughts
of those sitting nearest him

on his back lies a pile of nuts
professor’s earthquake
shoulder shaking causes
eyes to open, back to rise
and with a tremendous roar
both physical and meta-physical,
it topples to worn carpet
and the laugh-track plays on

silence- pierced into being
by shrill, violent, mountainous
rise, and fall, of thunderous decibels-
hangs, heavier, louder than
the quick gone loudness replaced
or, in all actuality, displaced
mere seconds before being scrawled
into eternal memory
of those whose noses
sniff, daily, nutty clusters
of letters, which exclude
always, the ever-present x
the destructive π
and that y, which of course
flies as high as forgetful

©Brandon Webb
This is a series of observations, and. collectively, is the longest thing i've ever written, at 8847 words
Laila Duvivier Feb 2013
I believe, love is very personal; each person feels it in a different manner. Some do not even know what love is until they lose it. Love is personal like perfection, no one is perfect but some are perfect for others. These, are never perfect for each other.  Everything works as a domino effect, one is perfect for one, which is perfect for another, and so on. We have created a form that binds all of us; we live in a love triangle, which is no longer a triangle.
Lunar Aug 2014
in math class
and all we talk about is algebra
adding and subtracting
absolute values and square roots

when all on my mind is you
and as long as i add you to my day
it already sums up my week

but if you subtract yourself from my life
i'd fail even before the day ends
and i'd crumble faster than a
simple division equation

Tanvi Bird Dec 2014

4:26 am. Got out of bed.

Feeling really low again. Envy at my sister's good fortune and new friends. She is getting ahead, she is in a good place- but we are not and I am definitely not. Everything in her life presently makes her happy except me. She never trusted me because I dated G. Now I don't trust her either. I don't want anything from her. I finished the story. She didn't edit. She hasn't offered me anything from her end. "Jotted down some notes" is all she said. She did that in college with all her professors, and got As. It isn't fair. See, she does things whenever she feels like it and IF. And she doesn't trust me? I stopped asking her to do anything. If she wants to she can. I did my part.

I don't know where my life is taking me. I am working ******* little ropes that come at my direction-- but I am not even sure if they are worthwhile endeavors and if they will turn into anything. I just know I have nothing else.

I consider contacting my ex, F. Why him? He's the only one messed up like me. L is married with a beautiful baby and that woman he left me for, G is probably already married by now to that other stunning girl. But F will always be alone.

He doesn't want me. Why should I contact him? I had told myself I won't contact him until I at least got a full time job. He's an Ivy League P.H.D scientist at Penn researching the brain, traveling, making intelligent beautiful friends, and doing triathlons successfully (of course the smart ones are successful at many things). However, he still has trouble finding the "one". He's ******* 37. No one is ever good enough for him. I wasn't good enough for him. *******. He's broken like me. No, he ignored me. I won't contact him. ******* can contact me if he wants to.

I realized I have no friends. None at all. I used to think I had so many friends. Mostly men that just follow me around for a while and then leave me when they realize they aint getting this *****.

There's K, but he's J's ex's friend- so our friendship is limited. There's my sis S, who I meet once every other month, but she doesn't always respond to messages (and I rarely text her anyway). There's Je- she and I meet twice a year and we don't really connect anyway. She has other best friends and I am not really in that circle.

Cas- she is academically successful(valedictorian) and has a job, but frankly she is a bit slow. Can't explain it. Plus she bailed at me about the apartment thing and strangely she doesn't like me to meet her other friends in intimate settings, she just likes meeting people one by one. Like she's met my friends and got some of their numbers, but for some reason has never provided me an opportunity to meet hers. Maybe she feels awkward introducing me since she and I met online? Since she's not philosophical or an intellectual, I don't understand the point of meeting more than once a month if it's just me and her. I like her, but she always seems high without actually being high. I feel like I have to go out of the to meet her, but she doesn't have any energy at all.

Ro- the verbally abusive drunk? Let's face it. It's a mutually beneficial- two lonely people who have no friendship compatibility uplift each other relationship- but he's actually of the the more interesting to talk to people . Then there is Chr who just flirts all the time and fights. I swear his ex wife drilled some holes into his brain. He's just rude. He acts nice, but he's ******* nuts inside. Then there are those occasional people that text you Happy New Year. When I was in a relationship, I was so consumed by it that not having friends didn't matter. I have no friends. I am completely alone. Always have been. In law school, in elementary school, in middle school- I was always the only one who sat alone.

I like sad music. I just listened to the Hollywood version of Les Miserables- one of my favorite all time literary pieces and the beautiful Selena Gomez' new single Heart Wants What it Wants. I love to hear singing melodically, softly, simply of their pain. Every single singer in that musical has a painful story. The innkeepers in their desperation, Javert, of course Fantine, Jean Valjean, and the most relatable Eponine. And the sound of the violin. And the harp.

5:13 am. Let's talk progress.

Today I finally had the trial tutoring session. It was Algebra 2. The girl who is my tutee, she is sweet and extremely hard working. As and Bs in Algebra 2 weren't enough for her. I prepared extensively. My own Algebra 2 teacher was terrible in high school. He flirted with the pretty girls and bragged about himself. I got As for nothing. We spent most of the semesters on the same one or two chapters. I've always wanted to good at everything, to redo and master everything. Maybe this is my chance to become good at everything I **** at.

I am teaching myself before I teach her. I am supposed to be proficient. I had to begin on a surface level pace today. She and her mother both seemed happy. I touched on all her first semester topics. Next week is the second trial session. I will learn more and teach her in depth. If all goes well, she will end up being my client and I will be assigned more tutees. If only I could make a full time job out of this- I totally would. Each session pays well. Of course, the first two sessions I give are complimentary. After that.

This is a gamble. If I don't get enough clients- I will still have to manage the ones I have, invest a lot of time into studying for assignments, and then still make enough money to qualify as full time- then I will be scrambling. I can't imagine possibly getting between 6-8 hours of tutoring every day, since most people get out of work after 5pm and I have to travel around for sessions. I hope it's possible. I would work very hard.

My plan is to ace this Algebra 2 tutee preparation. I have a week to make myself more of an expert.

I have to go to more networking events. Sign up for Asian Film Festival & World Affairs. Meet people. Get connected. Make friends.

Keep reading current events, legal issues, technological advancements, and foreign news.

Re-reading my previously written Step 1- Embodying Positively helped me by reminding me to trudge forward and remain strong and positive, for both my own sake and the sake of the people in the world.

6:02 am.

I am going to do a second 5k this December. My first one ever was last month. Second one in December will be progress. I've got to start practicing again.

I gave up sugar instead of meat for Advent. I felt it was much harder, but more rewarding. Today is my third day of the no sweets diet. I did have sweet iced tea and a pretzel with sweet cream cheese, but I will stop those too. I might allow myself to have just one iced tea a week- moderation is more effective than going cold turkey and messing up. This is a huge accomplishment as I am a sugar addict. I look pretty fit, except a little tummy that goes up and down and only noticed by closest family members and friends.

I need to be fit for my health, to be the best I can be, to be fit, for a future potential job in the FBI or PO.  I only get up once a night to *** now. Some nights I used to *** 6 times a day. Is that an indicator of future diabetes or what? Consuming a lot of sugar can lead to a lot of internal diseases including infertility and cancer. If I can give up sugar for one month, I may try to keep doing it. Wow.

6:27 am. Go to sleep, T. Good night moon. Good night stars. Good night Mercury. Good night everyone.



Went to an Asian Law Society event last week. Made a couple friends, excited to be a member and get involved. Also met a guy, hope he's Catholic so my parents will accept the relationship if I decide to go out with him. He's emotional, Korean American, and verbal- a Gemini. Interesting but probably just as crazy as me. I am looking forward to getting to know him.

Just finished my weekly career discussion group, this is my second week in attendance. I was about to give up on the group, but John one of the members, who is a runner (and I think out of work firefighter), reached out to help me by emailing my resume around to different people he knows. He's the reason I decided to keep coming until I find a job. We shall see what happens. I have a tendency to jump around to things and not see them to fruition, but I am working on developing strong skills.

Today, I am feeling grateful. I live in a generation in which globalization is both a positive and negative thing. However, today I feel positive despite all the problems. There are so many opportunities, and I just have to figure out to unlock the how.
Annie Nov 2012
Sometimes during class my brain shuts down
and I keep trying and slaving over these numbers
Unfortunately, these equations jumble themselves in my head,
jamming up the gears and halting all progress
This is how far I was able to work today
until my mind jumped off a bridge and now I'm drowning in a pool of
Salty rancher spackle is to Earthy diva smackers as Swinging hotel number is to?
Rippling cling bread is to Three lizard chariots as Indigo lime tangent is to?
Nighttime reunion planet is to Nettle lane scuffle as Soaking spider *** is to?
Fancy trance logs are to Sticky fudge lather as Vivacious gator college is to?
Cheerful blossom face is to Secret tractor rocket as Canned gremlin emblems are to?
Jealous pitchfork generals are to Heartbreaking patchwork veranda as Folding robot noise is to?
Pretty rhino rash is to Lost locket vengeance as Back pocket weather is to?
Frosted candy sidewalk is to Sneaky kook code as Shiny waffle smoke is to?
Sapphire cloud romance is to Magnetic comet lava as Blue triangle envy is to?
Vanishing honey melody is to Thermal elf pajamas as Whistling iceboat shampoo is to?
Peach mint politics is to Frozen doll pennies as Rusty anchor catapult is to?
Swollen pony fever Throbbing sword kazoo as Silent turbine science is to?
Obese germ thunder is to Stacked lemon towers as Corrupt moon jockey is to?
Demented insect whistle is to Glass trophy cleanup as Purple geode bubble is to?
Nighttime razor slime is to Lacquered dragon maps as Tint paper mittens are to?
**** camel drops are to Velvet ****** shoes as Slippery red muffins are to?
Flying hot drool is to Pale chocolate telescope as Tin trumpet ballet is to?
Expensive puppy speed is to Flowered duck mirror as Cosmic needle factory is to?
Fractured laser doodles are to Cracked butter gravel as Rubber holster straps are to?
Majestic panther fortress is to Jeweled cork target as Iron swan taxi is to?
Poisonous pepper bouillon is to ****** goat soap as Chrome feather pirates are to?
Digital gorilla scriptures are to Timid hunter stench as Frozen domino video is to?
Eccentric troll opera is to Transparent wax village as Spoiled coral agony is to?
Bizarre green metal is to Pillow eating hamster as Leather cavern ***** are to?
Eternal hurricane evidence is to Powdered rainbow perfume as Smoking yellow prune is to?
Liquid wish cleanser is to Exploding meadow ladders as Brittle rose hammer is to?
Caged foam filter is to Cherry balloon string as Ivory cactus spider is to?
Carbon puppet watch is to Sad kings compass as Elastic lace whiskers are to?
Nitrogen trolley dust is to Lazy elephant toffee as Orange toad choir is to?
Dark pole zodiac is to Blue finger blanket as Illegal bug nozzle is to?
Stinky towel cookies are to White jade caskets as Sticky snail tea is to?
Converting stellated caramels is to Mythic aerosol socks as Rubber raspberry jokes are to?
Flying clock carousel is to Whisky nut worms as Plastic fish platforms are to?
Queasy Vaseline queens are to Moody pigeon pills as Aqua mice fur is to?
Spotted bowl shadow is to Idiotic radiance lotion as Bungalow toad hearse is to?
Gushing chimney fungus is to Funky lamb acrobat as Utopian **** sprinkler is to?
Twinkling bungalow tablet is to Botanical duck rope as Bug hat ram is to?
Broken clock fossil is to Black ginger confetti as Parisian cobra meatloaf is to?
Silly Xerox ribbon is to Obedient raccoon carny as Traditional cat linguini is to?
Last astral advisor is to Elastic badger riddles as Broken circle rifles are to?
Bagged squire channel is to Temporary mosaic cake as Ancient bacon thread is to?
Wireless math army is to Moronic neon money as Pearl razor radar is to?
Rubber buzzard blizzard is to Troubled bubble wizard as Crushed hash ******* is to?
Purple birdy cure is to Tangled frost blossoms as Silken bridal saddle is to?
Unisex owl accordion is to Sugar bottomed boat as Optical nougat treasure is to?
Flavored saline rain is to Black arrow clan as Transistorized clam guitar is to?
Sharpened twig scar is to Mutant beet sonar as Baked troll mask is to?
Boxed noodle secrets are to Traditional guru buttons as Glossy marshmallow strategy is to?
Vibrating melted jelly is to Silver furniture dream as Spewing collated seats is to?
Burnt mountain pickles are to Baby preacher shoes as Sympathetic pilot pain is to?
Narrow portal treaty is to Monkey warehouse vacancy as Painted tornado trap is to?
Porch penny sulfur is to Glowing pony fat as Patched mattress bait is to?
Frigid waitress fallacy is to Graphic shrimp salute as Misted sneezing window is to?
Moist apple moss is to Daddy’s zoom seed as Downtown Pope cart is to?
Tired felon trickle is to Holographic squirrel candle as Wild ray hay is to?
Deadly zero chalk is to Folding wilderness chart as Curved ******* vacuum is to?
Hollow porcelain pellets are to Strawberry rain stencils as Microwave taxi nomads are to?
Wasted machete balcony is to Crumpled creature confessions as Fridge fuzzed fruit is to?
Sloppy demon damage is to Squeaky puppet chuckle as Mental arcade combat is to?
Monster trout stories are to Lewd pirate cocktail as Locked mammal grommet is to?
Rotting rope network is to Tragic toy goat as Cotton submarine shoes are to?
Complex pepper dance is to ****** cloud cushion as Marching taxi holiday is to?
Mental petal collectors are to Spooned barn putty as Dork factory fiction is to?
Hot spotted tops are to Timed stepping pests as Yogurt notching tartar is to?
Crazy dog comics are to Ambitious cartoon sphinx as Pavlov’s zinc ballet is to?
Soiled spinster wedding is to Padded razor wound as Floating fish map is to?
Slippery leopard pants are to Perfumed nut button as Dart wizard party is to?
Needy alien elephants are to Barking garden gnats as Quasar focused paper is to?
Slanted heart **** is to Bronzed cliff sandals are to Cunning jockey jokes are to?
***** thumbprint massage is to Holistic princess memory as Sliding dental sword is to?
Drifting wood whistle is to Fluorescent carpet powder as Foam dragon whistle is to?
Chopped web shadow is to Immortal vermin soup as Collapsing porch conspiracy is to?
Stolen thunder chant is to Haunted comet heart as Swollen throat portrait is to?
Fragrant frost parfait is to Grumpy caveman *** as Random stingray solo is to?
Squeaky polar turbine is to Silent lava fever as Oversized lunar fulcrum is to?
Synthetic dew droppers are to Pocket poster paste as Hypnotic screen dog is to?
Symbolic whirlpool nausea is to Dreaming tree phantom as Log badge bracket is to?
Camp hippo map is to Horseradish seizure insurance as Distant insect mirror is to?
German lady sherbet is to Stuntman laundry wax as Hungry butterfly ghost is to?
Fly smudged foil is to Amped maze coil as Shifting optic terror is to?
Automatic sheep floss is to Panoramic tanker anchor as Throbbing bone pillow is to?
Mutant clown village is to Nightmare translation treasure as Spotted spectral chakra is to?
Blind roach tweat is to Hermit worm tiara as Divine logo ritual is to?
Glueless gun stamp is to Malicious spam pump as Floral toffee pods are to?
Dudgeon mist removal is to Menacing bolt smacker as Boating duke shadow is to?
Costly metal plungers are to Creaky buzzing gushers as Glowing star cushions are to?
Raked barge sludge is to Crusted cream glitter as Zircon gutter babble is to?
Fake gold scholar is to Amish ******* mogul as Faithful ***** choir is to?
Sacred limo prayers are to Fried mice café as Splintered ****** thimble is to?
Dealing rabbit decals is to Pelican bongo festival as Patched equator rot is to?
Freedom gourd gasoline is to Cobblers studying acorns as Desecrated dice crater is to?
Tattered tapestry rod is to Busted particle scanner as Bogus piffle catalogue is to?
Trifle truffle raffle is to Last lamb laminate as Segmented cake goggles are to?
Domestic tackle tactic is to Ticking tic talk as Cordial corps coordinates is to?
Tucked duck caftan is to Sunken ramp ruckus as Wretched ranch rhetoric is to?
Clearly incomprehensible directions are to Useful archaic nonsense as Antiquated skeletal outline is to?
Bewildered beasts feasting are to Lazy busybodies resting as Vaccinating brave volunteers are to?
Lucky wagon dragons are to Famous gargoyle gargle as Formal postman funding is to?
Furrowed shroud chowder is to Borrowed tartan pajamas as Martini mixed algebra is to?
Cowgirl balloon helium is to Chewy glucose habitat as Stationary monument movement is to?
Diamond powered powder is to Diagonal diameter diagram as Purposely condensed expansion is to?
Organic iodine capsule is to Gleaming beach probe as Dominant dome static is to?
Shaving wrinkled targets is to Petting sensible monsters as Selling invisible whiskey is to?
Frozen piano architecture is to Note dotted clouds as Screaming Korean worms are to?
Sonic plant website is to Telepathic climbing clam as Bored protein exercise is to?
Gourmet mollusk cone is to Numb poodle caravan as Asian raven radar is to?
collin May 2015
your beauty is like numbers
i can't put it into words
Jim Carballo Mar 2013
i just want to know
has my life been worth the fight.
i have died a thousand times,
just wondering.
am i really cut out to be something?
am i going to make a change?
nope, probably not.
i don't matter to people.
one day i'll be gone and dalton and morgan and meagan and stefanie and zac will all forget about me.
the only reason they talk to me is because i let it slip that i was feeling particularly suicidal that day.
the stories didn't help, i don't care about how you got kicked out of school for a month for showing up trashed.
it's not the same as what i go through. i appreciate the effort but please stop.
one day i'll be gone, and dalton and morgan and meagan and stefanie and zac, will forget about me.
oh how i hate fourth block math.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Readin’ writin’ and sech lack that stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ at the factory line ever day either.
And it sher ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Grammer and other sech borin’ stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ on a factory line ever day either.
Ah sherr don’t need it to work digging
Er runnin’ sewer lahns er plummin’ pipes neither.
So, folks can jess give up on tryin’
To turn me into some kinda egghead scholar.
After all, it was good enough for my dad
To go to work, and work hard to earn a dollar.
Faith Feb 2014
I told him,
"If I could, I would gouge out my eyes,
so that you can see what I see.
I would rip out my heart,
so you could see who it really beats for."

He told me,
"If I could, I would chop off my hands,
so that you could touch heaven.
I would peel off my skin,
so you can be warm."

We traded our bodies,
and we learned where we stood.
I had the smell of his skin;
he had the beating of my heart.
there's really something about that boy in Algebra
laura Apr 2018
wanna twist and shout
fist and clout
the silent wrestle
a lapse of consciousness
bereft of science
and hard as metal

black and blue
***** girl, ***** pronoun game
strewing the fate in a storm
of words strung like wire

what do you want?
don’t call me like a woman
and don’t call me one either
you don’t got any other way
to communicate

it’s blame it on anything you don’t got
close the chapter and the verse
with a love curse
an empty ball and chain
because it’s all you and no me
i’m dumb as rocks but you have one instead of a brain
Maggie Emmett Aug 2014
The poor keep moving
as if relocation
could reframe the algebra.

They cannot see that repetition
traces patterns
in their life.

New beginnings become as hopeless
as stale finales
of debt and desperation.

Wishful thinking makes for certainties
gambling against the odds
of possibilities.

Whispered prayers and incantations
leaves no space
for reason’s compass to steady and settle.

If they stood still and mapped the moment
both sides of the equation
would simplify

and they might construct
a new geometry
of anger.

© M.L.Emmett
Arvind Krish Mar 2016
Tomorrows Exam is Mathematics
loaded my head with unknown tricks
Doodling with numbers
Yes, teacher calls us dumbers
Too much problems, yet very lil, solutions
The long mountains of  graphs
The Greek symbols alpha, beta omega
equations and formulas
Find height, depth use trigonometry
My answer a picture of a tree
infinite zeros in red
Sets, Relations,  Geometry,
variables and algebra and Lines,
Its like stepping into a field of mines
All time me wondering why
reciprocal of zero undefined?
much of the time
In exam, I stay
Tomorrow's my maths exam..... yippee
Thomas Goodyear Mar 2015
The concept of replacing numbers with letters to aid manipulation.
The concept of replacing people with numbers to aid manipulation.
Julie Grenness May 2016
It's a shame I don't drink,
I sit here and think,
As I'm here in the bar,
Love is like algebra,
Look, your ex is gone,
No need to rave on,
Who cares why they carry on?
That's why they're now gone,
Get over it and move on...
X looks at Y,
and wonders why,
Well, love was blind,
Old Shakespeare does pine,
You must get on with life,
We agree and sigh,
I'm here in this bar,
True love is like algebra!
Feedback welcome.
Raven Cloud Dec 2011
Knights clad in paper armor
Draw their pen-shaped swords
In preparation for battle
Against the dragon named Algebra

All year they've trained for this day
Poring over musty tomes
Filled with archaic battle plans
Entire armies have been lost
In the dangerous search
For the elusive variable called X

The informants A and B
Have consistently given
Inconsistent information
And the number line
Has completely deserted them

The numbers taunt the knights
Mocking their puny calculators
Confident in their unanswerable status

Yet one by one
The polynomials fall
The dragon bows it's head
The Knights have won the day.
.had i not come across the tironian ⁊... my my... what is a 7? did tiro invent a counter to VII? it was not all borrowed numbers from the sankskirt wielding hindus?! tironian... now that's someone you don't hear of much these days, it's all aesop and spartacus... if even that... tiro formerly a footnote in the life of cicero... for a B and a III - stenography's 3... Q and R or IX - stenography's 9... yes, we europeans didn't invent the current numbers... but just imagine... the details of +, - x, ÷ hidden within the jazz hands and counting with your fingers and the abacus... and how you will not find roman algebra... or that the discovery of calculus took both: numbers, and letters... etc. etc., but that we didn't invent numbers... as the slave Tiro... and his stenography of letters... i ascribe stenography as the original proposal for modern numbers... perhaps they would have "thought": II (+) III (=) V... or... oh i forget the cliche of Rome and the seven hills... i see: I, V, X: L, C, D, M... seven hills or what? who needs 10 digits when you can do just fine with... 7? the seven headed beast of revelation... i call that bait... but they built a... ******* coliseum working with: a year is bound to "spelling" rather than counting... CCCLXV... then again... with letters as numbers perhaps all of mathematics was once upon a time only practical, practical architecture... beautiful architecture and what not... glass shards would fizzle out: because of their proportions... imagine geometric-algebra with: letters and letters rather than superscript numbers: yet to arrive from the Raj of india... or otherwise found in ol' Tiro's stenography of letters... tender waiting buds of welcomed may... because we really borrowed numbers from: what was not already in letters, bound, waiting for a steographer to revise the matter of "counting"... all of ancient mathematics was without a hypothetical... without an algebra.... concrete evidence suggests that: a mathmetician was someone who had enough spacial awareness... numbers drafted for taxes and building coliseums... beauty marked by IX + XI = **! quiet odd... i see the 7 headed beast, the roman numerals beside the seven hills of the ancient resting place of papal bones: I, V, X: L, C, D, M... that numbers came to us from the Raj, from Persia? we had a 7 in the form of the greek gamma Γ... all that was required was codifying a looking into a mirror... might i stress the importance of narcissus in this affair? the unconscious of narcissus: Γ | ⁊... aren't i the lucky one... with a leash on the baron of the talk of shattering of mirror: never sounds like the shattering of glass!

as ever, opening a bottle of ms. amber and sitting down
to a sudoku...
to ensure this sponge of a brain slurps up
some wet concrete...

                      __   (⁜)      "oop" □ here
                      ⁁  †               ‗
"oop" □ over
here...   focus points...
the kaleidoscopic eyes...

words to abstract words are not enough...
anagrams are: "abstracts" of words using words...
i'm too tired to play games of this
nature... i want to return to...
VI + IV = X... somewhat daringly... return to...

a box over here: ◰ (yes, like so...
with the isolated number missing,
or an ◲...

                     a line of 9: ――――――― here and
now "there" |
               ­       |
        ­              |    in vertical

i've seen how people lock their smart-phones...
•   •   •
•   •   • and whatever ✭ pentagram "zigzag"
•   •   •

   opens it up... a sudoku puzzle, can very much
be a bunch of stacked pentagrams:
                       ­  ✭✭✭
the eyes will always wander to-and-fro...
again... what sort of i.q. does the darting eyes?
i'm not that good with crosswords...
as a bilingual i already have a crossword
in my head...
i don't play games of anagrams...

you want to write a cascade poo'em... write this...
otherwise peer into...
this will never make a study of geometry...
this is a 9² "problem"... more like a canvas to
relax in... sudoku says the hiroshima pundit...
i say... it's a 9²: niner squared...
in the UN approved phonetic alpha-beta...
why isn't it the alpha-omega...
choicest of wordings...
i guess an alphabet implies a cascade that...

          A                  B                ­  C
   x     x     1     x     x     x     x     9     1
1 x     x     x     6     9     x     3     x     4
   x     x     3     x     x     x     5     1     7
   9     x     x     x     1     7     6     x     x
2 3     5     x     x     x     x     x     x     x
   7     x     x     x     5     4     8     x     x
   x     x     7     x     x     x     2     9     8
3 8     x     x     8     2     x     4     x     6
   x     x     2     x     x     x     x     x     x

but what if the following narrative...
took place... with the numbers being replaced
by letters... better still, something more simpler...
what it A1(1) - the bracket implying
the number placed in the square A1:
which consists of 9 numbers...
0 is never part of a puzzle... nor should it be...
0 is a number that acts as more a function
of (x) and of (÷)...
you can deem 0 to be involved in addition
and subtrtaction...
but... not really...
0 acts as a prime multiplier and divider...
it's so clearly omitted in addition and subtraction...
that... ancient romans... said 1 = I...
3 = III... while 10 = X....
while 9 = IX and 11 = XI...
and 20 = **...

but what is a 9² (sudoku) puzzle was to replace
numbers with greek letters?
why not greek letters?

however much i put into these scribbles...
maximum effort... minimum return rate... so i will not
do as i anticipated myself in doing:
reaching into a dimension of ambition...
i'd only say... it was much easier calling it a...
A1(1) rather than a Aa(1) narrative...
don't ask me why... perhaps the whiskey has...
"muddled" me...


          A                  B                  C
­   x     x     1     x     x     x     x     9     1
1 x     x     x     6     9     x     3     x     4
   x     x     3     x     x     x     5     1     7
   9     x     x     x     1     7     6     x     x
2 3     5     x     x     x     x     x     x     x
   7     x     x     x     5     4     8     x     x
   x     x     7     x     x     x     2     9     8
3 8     x     x     8     2     x     4     x     6
   x     x     2     x     x     x     x     x     x

was more simple to solve than

          A                  B                  C
   x     x     1     x     x     x     x     9     1
a x     x     x     6     9     x     3     x     4
   x     x     3     x     x     x     5     1     7
   9     x     x     x     1     7     6     x     x
b 3     5     x     x     x     x     x     x     x
   7     x     x     x     5     4     8     x     x
   x     x     7     x     x     x     2     9     8
c 8     x     x     8     2     x     4     x     6
   x     x     2     x     x     x     x     x     x

  borrows from puzzle no. 11,337...
to solve and explain puzzle no. 11,341...

but in between... let's watch the optical
schematic: ▣, ▤ / ▥,
              ▦ / ▩ and ▨ / ▧...
while at the same time: squadron-✭
                       mein gott:
this over-inflated nihon squat and square...
as donal rumsfeld said: the known knowns,
the known unknowns and the unknown unknowns...
because he's not just like...
the bullet-point and the next target practice
of: **** bad... **** all good...
the war criminal Slobo Milošević from
Yugol you-go...
the english isles would know know...
as to why... a mongol invasion would never
set them back a century...
or as to how the ottoman turks teasing...
was only a romance in romania...
because... even if Finland is the quirky odd
kid in the whole bunch of the Scandinavian
sandwich of rar herrings and gherkins
and rye bread...
well sort me out oh please sort me out...
tell me that listening to
these debut albums... or near misses...
silverchair - frogstump...
everclear - sparkle and fade...
stone temple pilots - songs from the vatican gift shop...
it also made sense to be a pre-teen...
listening to these albums
with an uncle with a car... eating cheap
chicken wings while he washed the car
from some next-or-no-other *****-circus date...
after that... it didn't make a sense to own
a car... if there was the bus...
and a dream of riding a horse everywhere...

this little moi: this solo experience...
of the long hair of gods
and the long beards of men...
and the of the sikhs and the devils...
and how it didn't make sense to grow
both at the same time...
long hair in my youth...
while playing, slumpt in...
i too thought it was going to be that
simple... a demigod grows long hair...
a demi-imbecile of the most basic
infernal hides the scythe moon
and the chin behind a turban of a beard...
the god with long hair...
the devil and his... beard and itch...
eden of ***** having migrated from
the cushion of underwear:
fully exposed to... not tended to...
or the scrub of stubble...
or what's not... the venus glory sheen...
smoothed or smothered skin
that still belongs to the buttocks of the newly

yes... in between the songs strawberry and
heartspark dollarsign - from everclear's debut...
i too wish i took drugs...
fortunate as i am unfortunate: words and letters
are in x-ray black and white...
what good would licking some mushroom
do for me, or for you?
excesses of colours, among these dams and bridges?
among these sputniks of  precursor numbers?

even if the blanks, were to replaced with a 0
for the other algebra unknown...
tier above... hyperscript a 1 - 9...

          A                  B                  C
   0     0     1     0     0     0     0     9     1
a 0     0     0     6     9     0     3     0     4
   0     0     3     0     0     0     5     1     7
   9     0     0     0     1     7     6     0     0
b 3     5     0     0     0     0     0     0     0
   7     0     0     0     5     4     8     0     0
   0     0     7     0     0     0     2     9     8
c 8     0     0     8     2     0     4     0     6
   0     0     2     0     0     0     0     0     0

mirror, mirror on the wall...
who isn't a charlize theron 0 = negation
of them all?
abigail mac is not a *****
doppelgänger of alicia vikander?

no better need to drink...
nonetheless the sun still shines on the question...
sudoku 9²: what it the cardinal numbers
were to be replaced with cardinal letters...
notably greek...
the alpha male the beta male the gamma and
the omega are all covered...
so is pi... given xi (11) is 0...

          A                  B                  C
   0     0     1     0     0     0     0     0     0
a 0     0     0     6     9     0     3     0     4
   0     0     3     0     0     0     5     1     7
   9     0     0     0     1     7     6     0     0
b 3     5     0     0     0     0     0     0     0
   7     0     0     0     5     4     8     0     0
   0     0     7     0     0     0     2     9     8
c 8     0     0     8     2     0     4     0     6
   0     0     2     0     0     0     0     0     0

thus? Iota = 1, A = 2, B = 4, Γ = 7, Δ = 3,
rho (Ρ) = 9, Π =...
B should equate itself to 8 in the stenographic
origin of numbers...
depending on which stenography you decide
Iota = 1, A = 2, B = 8, Γ = 7, Δ = 3, P = 9....
no lower-case, please...
intuitively: zeta: Ζ = 5...
what's missing? we have: 1, 2, 8, 7, 3, 9, 5...
4 and 6...
                     Η = 4 and Σ = 6...
rubric, please!
1 = I
2 = A
3 = Δ
4 = H
5 = Z
6 = Σ
7 = Γ
8 = B
9 = P...

and how would a sudoku look like... thus?

          A                  B                  C
   0     0     I     0     0     0     0     P     I
a 0     0     0     Σ     P     0     Δ     0     H
   0     0     Δ     0     0     0     Z     I     Γ
   9     0     0     0     I     Γ     Σ     0     0
b Δ     Z     0     0     0     0     0     0     0
   Γ     0     0     0     Z     H     B     0     0
   0     0     Γ     0     0     0     A     P     B
c B     0     0     B     A     0     H     0     Σ
   0     0     A     0     0     0     0     0     0

notably when the following narrative unfolds

          A                  B                  C
  ­ x     x     1     x     x     x     x     9     1
1 x     x     x     6     9     x     3     x     4
   x     x     3     x     x     x     5     1     7
   9     x     x     x     1     7     6     x     x
2 3     5     x     x     x     x     x     x     x
   7     x     x     x     5     4     8     x     x
   x     x     7     x     x     x     2     9     8
3 8     x     x     8     2     x     4     x     6
   x     x     2     x     x     x     x     x     x


          A                  B                  C
   4     8     1     5     7     3     9     6     2
1 2     7     5     6     9     1     3     8     4
   6     9     3     4     8     2     5     1     7
   9     2     8     3     1     7     6     4     5
2 3     5     4     P     Σ     8     7     2     1
   7     1     6     2     5     4     8     3     9
   5     4     7     1     3     6     2     9     8
3 1     3     9     8     2     5     4     7     6
   8     6     2     Γ     H     9     1     5     3

via B1(1) C1(6) C1(8) C1(2) C1(9) A1(9) A3(9) A1(5) A1(6) C3(7) C2(7) C3(1) A2(1) A3(1) B3(5) A3(3) A2(6) A2(2) A2(8) A2(4) C2(4) C2(5) B2(3) A3(5) B1(5) C3(5) C3(3) C2(1) C2(9) C2(3) C2(2) B2(2) B1(2) A1(2) A1(7) B1(8) B1(4) B1(7) B1(3) B2(8) B3(9) B3(6) A3(6) A3(8) A3(4) A1(4) A1(8)... post-script in greek numerals...
B2(Σ), B2(P), B3(H), B3(Γ)...

and if this is bingo... then bingo more... B2(x) and B2(y)...
and B3(y) and B3(x)...
my god... the fun time i'm missing when having
to raise children...
esp. among those superior intellects
of men... who... upon being married...
upon raising children...
return to the manosphere and talk to other
males without harems as if they were:
either constipated... circumcised...
or needing a father figure for that all encompassing
i didn't go to university to study chemistry...
i went... to the university of life!
a supermarket cashier clerk...
was the sort of cocktail shake-up required
for my bottled shampoo!

a ring a capturing a female is enough
qualifications to overlord the conversation
whether by topic or "feel"...
among ones... the la's nostalgia regret...
that would never arrive at blur or oasis
when it came to growing up in 1990s cool

coming home to little town Poland...
is a carnival better than landing in Warsaw...
i can't say the same should i come,
and arrive in Loon'don's queue...
or the tubes under tarmac...

but of course drinking would get in the way...
to raising children...
perhaps drinking will allow...
a cameo father-figure role with a ******* child...
akin to: john wayne oscar winner for hard grit...
or: i'll **** my trousers because it's:
gonna be a rainman sort of day...
to start licking windows...
because: fear... prior to the mirror...
and the tongue that would no dare
to usurp the phallus in the serpent analogy...

yes... i noted "wrong"... i made a siamese blunder...
a siamese *** myopia...
two puzzle boxes... "the same" postal box...
the same university level education
of a non-high-school tier drop-out...
esp. because there's still no honda civic
worth a 33 year old to user the tinder app
to bother the wasp hive / harem... or some whatver
future of: this scenario never made it into blade runner...
or the inspiration for blade runner...
the one twin dead talking from the grave about
the future...
perhaps it was original for philip k. ****...
but perhaps... like any poet...
he's the host... and it was jane charlotte ****
speaking playing peek-a-boo from the grave?
there's no future in my writing...
i guess if this isn't "me"... then it's my
maternal great-grandfather and me talking about
shadows and dentists...
last time i had the foggiest...
i had a tootache...
so it's settled...
senior "chopin" and quasi "chopin"...
an internal joke...
how's the family?
family beside the atoms and the period table?
oh fine fine...
after all i heard the myth:
he didn't have any of his teeth pulled out...
but he also threw a tonne of coffe into the river
because certain people in europe even in
the 20th century didn't know what to do with coffee beans...

the spirit of adventure and exploration...
notably prolific in a landlocked
experience of the czech republic or moldova...
or... idaho... or...
i see water i want to see waterfalls...
i want to turn the anchor in a pumpkin carriage
and call the waves my horses!
to call an island a ship!
to call a continent a yawn and backward peoples...
and branch out... like a phototropism...
leaving all these continental europeans
living the nocturnal life of:
growth on **** sort of fungus of a past...

there's certainly a mistake in here...
but... unless you're just watched: shock & awe movie...
or still retain: the times weekly subscription...
what's a pedantry's "safe space" of automated
oh the joys of not having to cling to passing
a telegraph of genes and keeping it a minimum
of: two adults ******* better produce at least
two replicas... rather than that chinese
1 child per couple failure of ******-short-circuits...
oh the burden of reading some french thinking,
some german thinking...
nothing of a locke mea culpa as
the current phrase: pilate washing his hand
like a o.c.d. sufferer...

Tiro the new Aesop!
🙉 🙈 🙊
           monkey branch, busy cousin
of the follow-through deviation from gravity
in the upsillon - the parabola of a banana...
called the canary dip...
otherwise: my! what a treat!
what greater ambitions to write...
in order to write something
that would never become so quickly screened
like a stephen king novel...
obviously the contra comes from...
the loitering dean koontz...

it must be a curse of the surname...
i have a ****** surname...
well... unless you add... no...
adolf had a surname...
that germans must have found funny...
stalin had a surname...
that the russians must have found funny...
ghenghis simply could: in a present-participle
of: can...
and future present as a pop. surname
in pakistan: khan...
which sorts out the "problem" as to why
there's a stephen king and a dean koontz...
the answer is self-evident...
as i'm sure every smith and handy
becomes a plumber or the better part
of anyone day when he's struggling
with sightseeing and tourism...
of what might become...
the better part of a Thursday burrowing
from Hades into Tartarus.
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2015
Dear Math,
I wrote this letter to let you know how I feel about you. The thing is much as you love me so much, we can never be an Item when all you do is torture my brain and break my heart.
You claim to be a linguist, yet you know none of my languages. You don't know Kiswahili neither do you know English and only speak Algebra and statistics...I loathe you for all you do is play on my mind with words like Sigma and Meu, factorial and co-factor.You claim you want to be the only one but still ask me to find your X without even telling me Y.Well, grow up and solve your own problems because I'm tired of solving them for you.Just walk out of my life forever and not temporarily like the dew. You have hurt me enough with razors of matrices, pinched me simultaneously and never asked me whether I believed in your ancient beliefs like those of Pythagoras or not. We were never meant to be. I found a new one, her name is literature and she loves me so much.I won't apologize for saying I hate you because It's unfair apologizing for saying the truth.
Yours with anger
AJ Nov 2014
It's been a month since your fragile voice made contact with my alert ears and it almost burns as I admit I miss the way you spoke.
I could never meet your eyes-do I even remember the color of them?
And every glance at you feels like you're drawing blood from my veins when you're not even making contact with me.
Change, change, CHANGE.
It all seems so relevant, or maybe irrelevant and I just want you to be happy but not hearing your voice talking to me feels like a million needle points and I shouldn't let you get to me.
It's been a month.
Have you ****** around more after me before the word "change" hit your tongue?
Or was I just another nothing of a female body to fuel your addiction that actually made you realize that change is all you got?
Seventeen years doesn't get you far, now does it.
But karma, that's going to get you.
You're nothing, 'cause you told us we were something (what a lie!) and it's going to loop back around.
But I miss your fragile voice making contact with my alert ears.
senthil nathan Sep 2016
A Division of Mathematics
Adding great value to it
Multiplying its applications
Reducing laborious means

Going on logical steps
Riding on its riders
Gliding on its theorems
Solving hitches and glitches

Assuming things as “x”
Applying rational methods
Adopting sequential steps
Solving problems complex

Starting with assumption
Running through derivation
Following brilliant notion
Deciphering through perception

Grand in concepts
Grand in derivations
Grand in suppositions
Resolving problems in a grand manner

Mother of mathematics
Mother of logics
Cracking all mysteries
By initializing things as “x”

Assuming God as “x”
Following tenets and commandments
Living life on virtues and truth
Surely shall we know what “x” is
And what “I” am and what “V” (we) are
And surely shall we know that
X=I=V is Life’s Algebra.
(when my friend bade me to write a poem on Algebra, this poem rolled out of me in five minutes; i write poems under divine guidance and this is a demonstration of the same)
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
Electromagnetism and electrochemistry added to the expanse of erudition.
Central calculations comprised of charged consecration
Diamagnetism and also electrolysis
Took in little of the ritual pedagogy
Most influential of archaic scientists.

The base for the conceptualization of the dynamic sphere.
Introduced the physics of ensconced enthrallment
Affecting rays of light
To say nothing of the underlying relationships there
Two phenomena, both similarly discovered

Inventions: Electromagnetic induction, diamagnetism, and the laws of electrolysis.
the form of electromagnetic rotary devices
Foundation of electric motors
Truly technology was largely due to his effort
Electricity became practical for use

Scientific knowledge increased: investigating as an alchemist, discovered benzene.
Inventor of Clathrate hydrate of chlorine,
In its early form
the system of oxidation numbers, and the burner
Popularized terminology such as anode, cathode

Ultimately became the first and foremost, ultimate, and respected .
Chemistry Professor at the Institution
Position of a lifetime
He was an excellent experimentalist of conveyed ideas
Mathematical abilities in simple language  

His powers did also extend as far as trigonometry.
Took any but the simplest algebra
And worked around it
And also summarized it in sets of equations
The basis of modern theories
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source -

— The End —