"cosine" poems
Looking pigeons and free wishes
Clouds are wondering with chirping kisses
Looking thou art of sweet dreams!
Flawless garden and green eyes like icecream…
Oh, my Rainy!
Where shall I live, tell me thee
Oh, pure love! Calls me!
Truly in my dream
I feel free…
I don’t wake up
Because I will be in your dreams
Sailing across rivers and oceans…
To meet thee!
Infinitely till the silver lines shine your way and
make your happy forever as your stay!
Dark the wind and oceans breezes
Dark the sea and the clouds freezes
Everything I feel sometimes lament
Under the real drops of fearful tears…
Sometimes I change my gear
And listen to you in my heart
You’re more than a divine art
…
So don’t tell me to wake up
Don’t wake me up Dear
Let me live just a few more years…
Till I depart elsewhere in the vast universe
Kiss me softly
And become my free verse…
Let the vice versa happens in streams of dreams!
Oh my Rainy
Become my dream!
And I will pursue your dream
Under the dream…
We will cascade new love…
Let’s meet in inception…
With the speed of light, we will thrill our passion
Cherishing each other enthusiasm
.
..
…..
……..
…………
……………..
……..
…
.
Like waves…
We will wake…
Sin cosine
Oh my Rainy
If you wish
We will one day
transform imagination
Believe me
Till I live in your dreams
Under the impression of imagination
We will spark a new world
I guarantee
and dancing snow
Will be a new hut of enthusiasm
Supernatural earth…
Supernatural moon…
Under the supernatural universe…
We will live purely in the heart to heart natural..
Oh, my Rainy!
Come when the rain stops
Under the digital circuits
We will flip flop
Stop the watch…
With eyes to eyes…
We will dream more!
Amore and Amore!
Oh, my Rainy!
We will wish together…
And the clouds of love will remain all years…
Till we reach the next version of dreams!
We will live more than together…
Will you come in the dreams of my dreams?
If I truly wish in my wishes
Looking glass and mirror of the streams!
Oh, my Rainy!
Brew my heart
And drink it!
Brew my heart
Drink it!
Let me be yours completely
I am sincere truly
Cheers!
Oh, my Rainy!
Cheers!!
Oh, my Rainy!
Cheers!!!
**** me softly!
**** me softly!
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
Prahu opines re the mathematics of love
Her equations hypotenuse me,
So I write adjacently,
As if we were cosine functionalities.
A special formula,
A Hyperbolic Cosine,
For to equate love mathematically,
We must use verbal hyperbole.
Binomials, the pair of loves,
Coefficient Trekkers,
On the mountains of waves,
To a product infinite.
So let us,
Reductio ad absurdum
That love is pointless.
Nah, nope.
Love is the point on a curve
that never stops moving,
Even as the curve forever, bending
And the possibilities,
Exponential...
In the sums of love,
The finite answer is always two.
So let us be clear,
This exercise has made me late
For work,
For which
I express my appreciation as follows:
X = xo,
Or
Summation Expansion
e e= 1 / n!
= 1/1 + 1/1 + 1/2 + 1/6 + ... see constant e
e -1 = (-1) n / n!
= 1/1 - 1/1 + 1/2 - 1/6 + ...
e x = xn / n!
= 1/1 + x/1 + x2 / 2 + x3 / 6 + ...
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC
I always feel too much, and
you never feel enough, like
two halves of the wrong circles
fighting to become whole.
So is this how it ends? Or we
could try and make a square.
I always care too much and
you care just the right amount,
so this one's on me.
You usually know what to say.
So we try sine and cosine.
They work. We're waves.
It's a throwaway sunset.
It's time.
The devil is dancing on
your shoulder. All the
angels are asleep on mine.
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 1:10 PM UTC
The colors, they won't
Bright, bea t ful c l rs
Flash ng, exp nd ng, piercing
Red, green, blue
An ndless
CACOPHONY
Of meaningless
noise
The noise, it won't STOP.
Viol nt, grating w vef rms
Sq e king, screech ng, piercing
SINE, COSINE, TANGENT
Like play ng a ch lkboard on a t rntable
Like playing a KNIFE on a BREATHING RIBCAGE
n ndl ss
p m
Of m n ngl ss
Delete Her
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 4:33 PM UTC
The truth is
I greater than like you
But less than love you
I am in the middle
This math circles me 'round
I don't know if I should add 20 or take away 20
I don't know if I should multiply by a 100 for the kind words you say
Or If I should divide by 100 for making me feel like crap
Should I square or find the square root
Find The Cosine or the Sine
Divide by 2 because you might love me halfway
or just multiply by zero cause your love is not there
I don't like this Math Problem
This Math Problem of love
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
it's inherent ontology, it's not even necessary to process inherited ontology; inherited ontology can be riddled and lost to abstraction like the invention of crosswords as antidote to the drilling-in of the Bible... but inherent ontology? inherent is a tautological invitation to italicise the word ontology - tautology anti synonym - the doubly stressed, point origin secured, but from two adjacent / adjective angles - well, might as well be a compound, the adjacent-adjective, when language meets math and math meets.... d'uh... or simply arithmetic, because that's how it's easily translated, arithmetic is grey people and math the rich... language the poets and grammar the farts.
a shortened critique of pure reason -
a) based on phenomena
(things most likely talked about)
and
b) based of noumenna
(things least likely talked about)....
i.e. a) and the ego implant,
and b) the god implant -
likewise the zealots on either side,
bleep bleep beep r r e r s.... and muslims...
i forgot to mention that Kant forgot
to mention the trigonometric foundations
as justifying owning a villa or whatnot,
the same foundations of having
the implant ego secured and willed
are the same parameters of the
implant god secured and thought
the point being dynamic parallelism,
mid-way between cosine and sine
rigid fluctuation tangents occur,
the ridiculous abbreviations, the p.s., and ibis.;
you're basically born with ego
or you're born with god -
there's no woof woof Pavlov chime chime in between -
ring-a-ding-ding-surprise?
there's no side-winding to create cinema -
being born with ego is explained clearly, coerced
with monetary affairs;
being born with god is explained "clearly", coerced
with murderers, lastly -
no psychological theory will box-me-in
given the lost tribalism and the usage of
the trans-valuation of the synonym of thing -
with money came slang - and all thorough evils,
with slang, synonyms, antonyms, critique of vocab.,
Arizona in the ******* Amazon -
i'm basically saying what Kant said:
god isn't uncool or whatever atheism tends to forget,
it's an implant of functioning, we can't rid it
by argument, and we certainly can't accept it
by prayer - unless we're dumb enough to do either
for worth of understanding tornadoes;
because that's were Seymour Hoffman started for me,
filming Twister.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
i want you to remind me
how the moon and the stars above
glance and hides how shy they were
whenever your voice soothes the trees and living creatures, reverberating the paradox of joy and sadness in your giggle
i want you to remind me
how the ends will never be the means of loving and that saturating my soul with your presence is more than i could ever receive, a reality unmet with circumstances of chains upon ourselves
i want you to remind me
how long it would take to consume the universe on your palm or the life in one single breath, or the night with a hymn that lights up my way home
i want you to remind me
of remembering goodbyes and hellos
the mellow sound of now and the agonizing tomorrow swifting its way to uncanny sound of laughter and sniffed tears
i want you to remind me
that there are more to life than we ever thought of: death, absence, nothingness
i want you to remind me
that i could always see the mirror of myself in your brushed short hair, chapped lips and past you never left behind, just the like the songs i've made to remind how unusual semblance of people unites hearts and eventually tear them apart
i want you to remind me
of the days where i loved deeply and without hesitation or fear of falling behind or the anxiety of losing what i never had in the first place
i want you to remind me of the days like this
where the smile in my face meant the world, home, and happiness from your single hello or the way you tilt your head and stare and smile and laugh or when your cheeks blush and swims together with the universe in your eyes and the waters deeply engraved in your fingers how the waves strum the music in your spirit and soul
how i want you to remember,
the way i will remind you:
i will remind you of how i love seeing you mess around and make everyone happy, your vain and cuddly smile behind the tint of the sun, along the banquets of academics and artists
i will remind you of how assured i was that you were whom i prayed for to a nonexistent deity of the wind and beauty; how i wished to feel its rush as i roam around, and steep-down the wheels, continuously weighing down unafraid of a valley of morality and questions
i will remind you of the philosophy of the meaninglessness of existence and how life was never the meaning but pain of waiting for death; you made it bearable and the ample grace of your heart is what i'll keep to my future journeys of seeking what i would trade for life itself enduring the morning commutes and cruelty of mischievous eyes
i will remind you of the day i saw you, and how tall you stand as me or how shy i was whenever i was in front of the crowd, but most of the time you give me the strenght to brush off what everyone would say
i will remind you of the day, and the days to come
i will not ask for more or less, it will be enough, and i hope with that, i will be enough, and i, hope you would always remind me #
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC
not a treatise on isosceles
plain square rooted in geometry
is my theorem stating an argument
of x variable is nothing
without y
+1 equals the cosine
the hypotenuse approaches mathematical infinitesimal
precision logarithmic progression
360 degreeed
determines the variable
by feeling.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
Tell me how,
One person can divide into
Three perfectly psychotic sentiments
While still appearing to be whole
Tell me how
Multiplying your kindness only
Creates a rift between myself and patience
And ends with nights of contemplation followed by tumultuous
Back-and-forths with imaginary numbers
For I am no mathematician
I cannot find a solution to every concrete problem
I do not bother with equations or substitutes
I only skim the symbol, rewrite questions and leave the answers hanging in the air
Tell me why,
Subtracting victims from my life
Only added a murderous sentiment
To every repeating decimal that couldn’t find its’ place
Tell me why,
The quadratic formula is emblazoned in my memory
But everyone keeps throwing opposites at me
So forgetting whether to add or to subtract becomes hazy
And the square root gets suspended until next class, so the
Four drops off the plane, two goes insane, and
Letters lose their fictitious meanings
For I am no mathematician
Archimedes is finding the constant of my triangular coffin
While Newton is rolling in his gravity
Carl Gauss is busy laughing his *** off with fundamentals in his eyes and
Descartes keeps whispering incoherent Latin, migraines sprinting towards me
As if in a race
So don’t ask me
Whether or not you should divide by zero
Or whether it requires sine, cosine, or a tangent
My logic will not tell you anything you want to hear
I am through trying to piece together this imaginary puzzle
And I’ve had enough of playing this never-ending game
Because I’ve been through two continents, and 4 different states
And I still don’t know the meaning of my name.
For I am no mathematician
The only pie charts I am fond of,
have to do with sugar and preheating an oven to 450 degrees
And with every cubic centimeter
I start thinking of cubes of cheddar cheese
For I am no mathematician
I can’t graph a simple line
I don’t understand the dimensions of the polygon shown above
And I’m tired of wasting precious time
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Those algebraic expression you gave
made my heart go nonrhythmic
like finding the cosine
in your Pythagorean theorem
I can't express
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 3:43 AM UTC
You life, sinusoidal,
with it's ups and downs,
Touches with cosine mine:
once when it's up,
once when it's not.
And I long for that eternal range,
for you to stay in my domain.
Dec 21, 2022
Dec 21, 2022 at 3:39 PM UTC
*adverts and the internet medium:
d'uh... you forgot the capacity
of the mute button...
wha'? wha'?
audi tt?
(let's expand on the title:
geometry (Y) the three dimensions,
and trigonometry (W)... cosine rule,
i.e. how three-dimensional space behaves).*
i was born in the late 20th century,
and, right now,
i'm seeing the "problem"
you thought jews in europe
were the problem...
ever read anything
on the subject of kabbalah?
i can only reply
with sepultura's:
ra-ta-ma'h-hatta'h...
**** me, the tetragrammaton feels like
licking a pharaoh's toes in linguistic terms...
*and there are always four,
to ensure there's one*.
but at least the aztec pyramids
were not burial grounds, or burial monuments,
rather, sites of capital punishment...
which the conquistadors misunderstood!
only the whites know the concept
of ethno-masochism.
by common-tongue standards
so thoroughly expressed with
the desired eloquence, stated, already.
social sciences are a disease
in terms of science per se...
why isn't there a divine intervention
story with regards to the aztec pyramids?
**** me and the scaffold!
the largest bird on earth,
and instead of flying off,
it sticks its head into the earth
to "hide".
that's pushing it...
that's saying the non-existence of god is based
upon the non-existence of a good joke;
i just don't think he needs to be
revered...
but obviously people have other
plans...
never mind the comedian...
mind the moloch;
so they pray, and pray, and ask, and plead,
and end up looking like amassed lunatics...
they demand praying...
me? i demand of myself thinking about him...
hard to think about nothing,
if i were thinking about nothing,
i simply would be, not thinking;
and you'd probably find me:
painting.
but **** me, aztec pyramids didn't receive
a divine intervention
but the egyptian pyramids did...
clearly the aztec pyramids weren't vanity projects
akin to burial sites / tombs...
clearly...
sites of enforcing capital punishment;
years later mis-translated by conquistadors...
and in militant atheistic form...
said: retarted.
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
Virginia Nicholson
How To Build A House In N-Dimensions
1. Begin with lines, pencil to paper (if they could exist) drawing graphite arrangements, N-space reduced to one, a structure viewed in slices. Imagine the bathroom off the foyer, the den off the dining room, viewable only as inked lines, dit-dit-dah, a contractor’s Morse Code.
2. Progress to carpet squares, linoleum tiles, the coral paint pairs well with the eggshell trim. Dit-dah-dit becomes something useful to the non-contractor, “door” or “Master Bedroom” or “x hundred feet of pipe.” Envision the imagined patterns hidden in the bathroom floor, the kitchen hardwood.
3. Move to volumes, solids, conic sections, height. One story, two stories, a basement, an attic?, take advantage of the introduction of 3D. Upgrade the closet to walk-in, needs more carpet squares. A snapshot of a family barbeque, Charlie’s height 1D penciled in to the 3D door, marring 2D eggshell paint.
4. Adding time, the house is built, ages, gets sold to new families with little Charlies of their own, new markings on the cupboard door, 3-foot-2, 3-foot-5, 4-foot-9. Grass fades from Kelly to sand to Kelly, saturation a cosine function with respect to time. The Zoysia starts in one, breaking ground in two, growing in three, a well-manicured 4D experience.
5-11. Include the things invisible to us, objects on the order of 1 meter, orders of 10E-2 to 10E9 seconds. Five to eleven drip through leaky pipes, seep through porous flooring, get lost in iron-rich soil and oxygenated exhalations. Five to eleven stay hidden, wrapped up in Calabi-Yao manifolds smaller than graphite hills and valleys marking little Charlie’s height, stronger than the 2-by-4s and stone foundation keeping strong in 4D. Five to eleven circulate undetected, seven dimensions shrunk to sub-pinpoint size, keeping seven dimensions of unexplainables covered until their traces are seen in the blades of Zoysia.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 5:20 PM UTC
caught in moments,
arches of our lives intertwining and declining
sine and cosine-ing until we come to a
point on our plane
shared around a table, one reality
my mind to your mind to my mind to our mind
to this conscious existence
we think therefore we are
together, now
now how and what and where and why
as we sit here side by side
my/our memory
caught
in
faces/features
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
They say 4/3 people
Are bad at math,
I guess I am one of them,
Belonging to something finally.
Belonging to a society that hates the
Shape of the number 3
And when asked the
Cosine of pi,the
Best answer
Is the silence of the dead
Welcome to the torture chamber
There's no need for that sign
The sentiments are already
Felt.
Abandon hope all ye who enter here
There's no need for those famous
Lines they are already
Inside every breathing body
Whose sweat slides down
The sides of their minds
In horror of having to learn the
Pythagorean theorem.
And yet there are some who have
Mastered this death
Some who we call geniuses
Not writers
Not artists
Nor talented speakers
But people who are smart
At what most people are not
Those are the geniuses
Not us
Never us
Never me
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
Balance.
Heel-toe-heel-toe,
**** it
in,
chin up,
shoulders back.
These relentless echoes
resound through caves.
Waves:
certain frequencies.
Sine.
Cosine.
Tangents
I go on to avoid
your melting gaze,
your sand figurine
sifting swiftly through my palms.
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 10:40 PM UTC
The colors, they won't stop.
Bright, beautiful colors
Flashing, expanding, piercing
Red, green, blue
An endless
cacophony
Of meaningless
noise
The noise, it won't stop.
Violent, grating waveforms
Squeaking, screeching, piercing
Sine, cosine, tangent
Like playing a chalkboard on a turntable
Like playing a vinyl on a pizza crust
An endless
poem
Of meaningless
Load Me
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 4:19 PM UTC
*whatever we speak, it's hardly going to
be spoken of.*
which means two kettles...
mind you: target practise
or as i mind
the 2.4
of said: superman
in Iowa...
do i care to mind?
well, **** me!
they verse in acronym
i.n.d.i.a. & c.h.i.n.a.
akin to a billion...
i'm tongue tied and heaving,
das bōt...
this doesn't help the aesthetic...
with prolonging dies
the excess o...
kaiser schweizer min took!
whatever that means,
they say funny accents in ****
to **** a thought of a zeppelin...
yhwh: or the hollowing-out,
awaiting the god to lift us out...
Pythagorean umlaut
into a macron joinery...
depending on your aesthetic...
Kreisler schisser...
twins anti avid,
interchange s and z...
Charlotte
and sharpening, shearing and cheering,
and so many excuses...
the chard and the sh and the charcoal
and the shattering of, of the chatter:
cheap and sharp
or the acute variations of śarp & ćeap...
or what the first H represents:
an upper punctuation marking,
above the letter,
Y or gamma γ vs. Υ (upsilon)
in latter phrasing comma...
or what's pinpointed with Y
and what's later replicated in trigonometric W
of sine and cosine, as is Y the tan divergence...
excesses bound to later and latter...
how to differentiate? the lay'ter
from the latté of not mopping up the surd
h and the vocalised h that's asphyxiating
within catching breath asthmatic?
people forgot punctuation
in the same way they forgot diacritical markings
but at least they got a pretty picture
and dyslexia, and iconoclasm, and
modern illiteracy;
as said modern conspiracy theory:
far **** away from 1990s cartoon network...
everything you just said: doesn't
prop a need for me to buy things;
which is why, i guess, you need
a drugs trade that's the alternative
of consumerism.
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
WE DON'T HAVE THE TIME
FOR ASTRONAUTICAL
ARCHAEOLOGY OR GEOLOGY!
IN NAUTICAL TERMS
COPERNICUS SAID THAT
THERE'S NO EAST OR WEST
WITHIN THE GEOMETRIC
CONSTELLATION OF THE STARS...
THERE IS NO ARCHAEOLOGY ON MARS
THERE'S ONLY GEOLOGY -
WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR
ASTRONAUTS PLAYING THE GIMMICK
OF GEOLOGISTS...
IF THERE'S NO ARCHAEOLOGY WORTH
INSPECTING ON MARS,
THEN ALL GEOLOGY WILL
ONLY PROVIDE US A GEOLOGY
we could easily find carbon dating on earth...
mind you, didn't we like ******* too much?
WE DON'T HAVE THE TIME -
WE DON'T HAVE THE TIME -
UNLESS YOU WANT IT TO BECOME
A CINEMATIC PROPHESY OF
THE RICHEST GET OFF FIRST AND
BY BEING FIRST THE ONLY ONES TO GET OFF;
THERE'S ABSOLUTELY NO *******
REASON TO FICTIONALISE OUR SITUATION;
GET IT?!
I GET IT... THERE'S ONE PANIC ATTACK
PRIOR TO THE TSUNAMI, AND NO ONE MINDS...
THEN THEY ARE KNEE-DEEP IN
SEAWATER, THEN "SUDDENLY" EVERYONE
REMEMBERS THE WEATHERMAN PROPHETIC
ABOUT THE WEATHER ON MONDAY
AND "CARING" WHETHER YOU TOOK OUT
YOUR UMBRELLA OR NOT...
AND YOU THINK... SHOULDN'T I'VE HAD
A WASTED THOUGHT RATHER THAN WASTING
TIME IN THE UNDERGROUND LABYRINTHS
DURING THE BLITZ... WELL... A WASTED
TIME, BUT HARDLY A WASTED SPACE,
SINCE YOU'RE THERE, A SINE OR A COSINE
CURVE OF CONTINUITY...
AND NOT A TANGENTS CURVE OF:
HERE ONE MINUTE / GONE THE NEXT...
well, wouldn't we all like to enshrine our politics
as the pinnacle, and our lack of co-operation
as the dire foreseeable exclusion to mind the
ecclesiastical Eden of our hopes ****** minding
the flag of Wales prior to the unearthing of
the fire-breathing lizard skeletons; at least we gave hope
to the third and last world - who will lazily
accept its fate as if a brightly lit room
and the mammalian candle extinguished without
a sadistic approach to industrialise the poll of death.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Oh the enchanting
Silhouette of the winter bird
appearing
On such January morning
with a tail
Implying the precise degree
of an acute angle
Between two **** branches
You are making an imaginary roof
for your sweet roundish oval head
Fitting it exactly
under a perpendicular space
equal to the height
of the opening
of one missing panel
of my venetian blinds
through which I am peeping right now
safely below the closure points
Of a spectral line
Made by your precision
to manifest
a beauty of an
illusively two dimensionalized
Isosceles Triangle of a
branchy reality
These ever changing orange blue
dashes of an upcoming
Early morning With smoky fumes
are wisely making the volatile
roof for your house
an opposite line
halves to deliver
two adjacent lines
at a perpendicular point
to reserve permanently
its never changing cosine
and still it seems to be
Preserving some of the
fading brittles of stars within
Ah such a home is to be!
where you can peacefully
Fatten and
Rest the tip of your
Belly
to say
This dot of the tangent
Belongs to me
Inhaling
Exhaling
And changing
to a new colored
vitreous roof
of yours
Unmoving
there
Like the buddha
of all silhouettes
Sculpted to
Guard skies only
Oh wise bird
Please
Will
You stay here
And meditate
For me??
I said carelessly
through a slightest
slip of the tongue
and tired body
but before I could
realize and correct
correct it as:
And meditate here
With me??
He instantly turned
his head towards me
And flew
Away
Rightfully :(
Leaving
Me
Helpless
Looking
at a reflection
of my silly longing
Between
The deserted
Space
Of two skinny
Fragile
Branches
Once served
As a melodious
Golden
Cage
Fruiting
Seeds
Of
Reality Dreams
of an Old Tree
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 4:28 PM UTC
when i was young, all i wanted
was to work in record shop,
i involved the nick hornby *high
fidelity* bug / virus and i was all set,
but them the music game changed,
it wasn't tagged as -sony, ******
or some other record company...
but entitled self-,
see the hyphen is historical residue
awareness... but there are a few music
outlets open, the h.m.v. on oxford street,
or the one at romford,
the ****** mega-store where classical
music was caged behind soundproof glass
doors is gone... i guess the owner of the h.m.v.
is a benevolent billionaire philanthropist...
we all know richie branson sent all the artists
to hell and actors to the stratosphere
with income from tubular bells by mike oldfield...
i get that... but what you miss with instant access
is the randomness of waling into a vinyl / sly mercury
(c.d. it has to be more than compact disk,
it has to have a status of a vinyl, it can't remain
an acronym... vinyl.... and... mercury, cosine it's
silver, the end, 80's rule, or rulebook,
brick sized mobile phones, it's part of history,
you ******* tartan yuppies),
well, as divergent as a tangent can be,
all i ever wanted was to imitate the high fidelity
case presented in fictional medium by nick hornby,
never got the chance, did work experience at
Burtons (a clothes outlet), even though
i wanted to sell music... the hamster napster beat me
on the treadmill... never got the fairytale godmother
to wish-blink wish-blink magic pogo stick makeover;
but h.m.v. is still open, and went in and played
the lottery genie, i got https://goo.gl/KdB7oY:
why do you why do you why do you voodoo?
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC
*I remember the night
I was awake with all my might
Watching stars above my head and
Asking myself, "do I really need to bend?"
I tried to be so flexible about adjusting
I really had a hard time believing
Convinced to meet high expectations
Prepared for numerous explanations
Then I also asked myself why
Why am I still giving it a try
Letting a chance to enlighten my mind
Of all the things I need to find
Letters before were already at their best
But now, even x's and y's are written on the test
Never ending solution sets to a question
Slope of a line, and its points, and its equation
How can I distinguish velocity
To the speed of a car in a city
Almost all terms have the same meaning
And for me they are just repeating
Solving for sine, cosine and tangent
Is like choosing a question in a pageant
I do not know what to choose at first
Pick the best and things will be reversed
Speed of a car, man, and even horses
Together with others make up my courses
Drawing tables, graphs and designs
Follow this path covered with lines
Balancing formulas in chemistry
Is just like balancing your time with artistry
Critical conversion of units taught me
To give a careful approach to arrive at the key
I was wondering how I survived
Those tiring days that arrived
As I walk on the stage of honor with gladness
I can't help but cry with happiness
Success doesn't end in accomplishing
Hardwork is always followed by polishing
Experiences mold you to be better
Only if you aspire to be like no other
Years and year passed away
Roads and bridges gave a better way
Skyscrapers and buildings soared high
As I looked up and admired the sky
Now, as I take my white hard hat with me
Flashbacks of the past, that's what I see
Before it was only just a dream
But now, it is a success to redeem
I smile as I look up the sky again and
Whisper that dreams won't come to an end
Showers of wishes will ever be in our hearts
And no one can ever take away any of its parts*
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
you see my honourable
rabbi,
i have this problem,
Sauron just keeps
igniting me...
i either buckle and fall
over laughing
on the second h of
the gemini -
the ** the woman bit,
or i am struck with
a need to catch my breath
(my vowels) ah eh:
exasperated,
surd-surfing: f k p c s t -
gargantuan waves of
effort... in genetics
you can say xy -
but that still makes no coordinate
sense, given the z-antics.
Alice looking at the H -
and when i wasn't looking
at the YHWH i swear i could
see a sun, a sea, a mountain -
quantum physics **** right there,
a melissa mccarthy punchline
on the ready.
yep... crude trigonometry central:
starting with sharpened cosine -
and then pinpointing on the Y -
convergent exponential...
plus: so little calculations
were involved.
i swear to god... mingle the latin
phonetic encoding with
the hebraic key,
and you can attest to seeing
a million 'allah'u akbar'
cockerels shout in simultaneous
detonations and
in a Solomonic guise... barely flinch.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
i rather believe in angels
that men
who attribute themselves
a loss of free will
in order to just sell plastician’s extension
of what’s called life by the non-memorable
numberings in equal measure numbings
of what man isn’t given he chose neither devil’s tail
or angelic wings but the monkey’s ********
and guided the 100m metres beyond marathon
for a measure of a chatty shadow allowing sepia
as proof of grey...
flip the ****** coin will you!
flip it!
ah... you won’t flip it...
i’ll marathon myself ready as audience +1 for
the tragedy of aeschylus... sad cosine exhausted...
sad because the fattened actors in numerology
expanded the fate of acting with the actor’s once taken
for plasticians of doning masks to later
adorning man with a fake sexuality on stage
as a forging of forgetting the sexuality of the feminine:
woman cannot fake her sexuality
man can with homosexuality...
but woman cannot fake her sexuality should
our reproduction be usurped and lost...
but isn’t that double homosexuality of
man usurping woman from faking her ***
by acting and...
ah crap... the proof came with inter-racial ***
white girl met brown boy and sang about
a blue-eyed afghani girl in the verse of van morrisson
concerning the stranger who wasn’t a spaniard
but a scandinavian who wouldn’t return the love affair
of the stereotypical phrasing of a book material
to employ a little country in terms of how many metaphysical
spoons were sold counter to the number of soups slurred.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
ax^2 + bx + c
A formula taking me nowhere
All these numbers, these units and deltas.
I'm not understanding.
2H2 + O2 to 2H2O
A formula helping none at all.
All elements I'd even have in my life.
I'm not understanding.
e=mc^2, p=mv
All the calculus that I cannot see.
I only want to find my own emotions and sanity.
And those I'm not understanding.
All this sine, cosine, tangent.
All this math, physics and chemistry.
Even the feelings of mine that are tangling.
I'm not understanding.
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 10:20 AM UTC