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"equations" poems
I, a woman of letters, have been waiting for you, a man of numbers. I’ve been fantasizing of the day when you would deliver at the porch of my heart your algebraic equation. The x’s and y’s merged systematically with all the symbols, forming an indelibly inked pattern that would finally make sense. I have been waiting and hoping and praying, but all I’ve got so far are your invalid equations, the confusion, the uncertainties, the unsolvable mathematical sentence that I want so desperately unscrambled. How can you not, in your genius, find the right equation, even as I now try to draft a coherent verse? for j.e. 013115
0
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
algebraic equation
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 undefined!
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
Tomorrows Exam is Mathematics
cesspool of fat and numbers of mathematical equations you could never solve because for all your love (obsession) with variables, you were never smart enough to understand them. in the back of the room you coagulate, broken formulas and broken you
0
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
calculus
Dear Friends, I had composed this poem in 2008 after reading an article by a Lady Doctor who was a Biologist, and had initially posted it on 'Poemhunter.com'. Hope you will like it! Thanks, - Raj PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE ! Love’s physics and chemistry, has forever remained a mystery! There are no permanent equations to resolve, Love's unseen wave like force! It travels through three dimensional space, At frequencies higher than electromagnetic waves! It remains unhindered by barriers of cast, creed, or clime, Giving two beating hearts a feel of the divine! It generates a magnetic force field, making two hearts in unison beat! Yet Biologists claim that a chemical called (PEA) Phenylethylamine, - Triggers loves molecules in the human mind! Chocolates are rich in this PEA content they say, And is a perfect gift on the Valentine’s Day! The chemical Dopamine makes the lovers to glow and feel fine, When they live on love and fresh air and may even forget to dine! While Norepinephrine, which stimulates our adrenaline production, Makes the lovers world go round in a joyous motion! But Oxytoxin that 'cuddling chemical',  requires constant contact for its effects to prevail! Cupid’s arrows may be dipped in its pail, Before those arrows on lovers begin to hail! Creating unbearable attraction leading to infatuation, Making two hearts beat as one with love’s magic potion! But such feelings remain for a limited duration, Varying with people with different emotions! In a 'mercurial type' loves ecstasy gets mixed, - And they frequently require a PEA fix! But those who stick to a single mate, Are said to be rich in Vasopressin content! And finally when infatuation gradually subsides, Chemicals triggered by Endorphine slowly overtakes, When calmness and stability with loving bond prevails! This Endorphine is reputed to be rather addictive, And firmly binds those forces released by PEA, - which are rather seductive! (All Copyrights with Raj Nandy of New Delhi)
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE!
Dear Friends, I had composed this poem in 2008 after reading an article by a Lady Doctor who was a Biologist, and had initially posted it on 'Poemhunter.com'. Hope you will like it! Thanks, - Raj PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE ! Love’s physics and chemistry, has forever remained a mystery! There are no permanent equations to resolve, Love's unseen wave like force! It travels through three dimensional space, At frequencies higher than electromagnetic waves! It remains unhindered by barriers of cast, creed, or clime, Giving two beating hearts a feel of the divine! It generates a magnetic force field, making two hearts in unison beat! Yet Biologists claim that a chemical called (PEA) Phenylethylamine, - Triggers loves molecules in the human mind! Chocolates are rich in this PEA content they say, And is a perfect gift on the Valentine’s Day! The chemical Dopamine makes the lovers to glow and feel fine, When they live on love and fresh air and may even forget to dine! While Norepinephrine, which stimulates our adrenaline production, Makes the lovers world go round in a joyous motion! But Oxytoxin that 'cuddling chemical',  requires constant contact for its effects to prevail! Cupid’s arrows may be dipped in its pail, Before those arrows on lovers begin to hail! Creating unbearable attraction leading to infatuation, Making two hearts beat as one with love’s magic potion! But such feelings remain for a limited duration, Varying with people with different emotions! In a 'mercurial type' loves ecstasy gets mixed, - And they frequently require a PEA fix! But those who stick to a single mate, Are said to be rich in Vasopressin content! And finally when infatuation gradually subsides, Chemicals triggered by Endorphine slowly overtakes, When calmness and stability with loving bond prevails! This Endorphine is reputed to be rather addictive, And firmly binds those forces released by PEA, - which are rather seductive! (All Copyrights with Raj Nandy of New Delhi)
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49
Focus. Linear equations. Quadratic functions. Pythagorean theorems. Sunshine sacrificed for symmetry. Daylight dropped for diameter. Windows that confine. Tease. It's the way yearning clouds hug lonely trees. It's how the sun graces all with perfect, gentle hands. The passion behind these eyes are hungry for escape. Focus.
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Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
Pythagorean Theorems.
He owned books on many subjects leather bound, with complex concepts on which he'd ponder and reflect He had it all, in some respects. He could lecture quantum physics, English literature and economics He was renowned in academics Though many found him quite eccentric He explored the world only to find That there's more to life than a brilliant mind That there was a piece of him...undefined See, He had never loved. He'd never pined He knew all the math, knew all equations He'd been to every corner of every nation He'd learned 28 languages, knew every translation But he was distraught by this realization The pain he felt was too great to bear He sank into the deepest and darkest despair His heart was in need of dire repair Finding love was his only prayer He bumped into her by happenstance and what began as an ephemeral glance became a sucker punch from romance She thought he was sweet, so she gave him a chance That's when the world's smartest man finally learned how to dance
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Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 2:35 AM UTC
World's Smartest Man
Months have I waited For a particular celebration Not of getting drunk nor even wasted Just a quiet simple sweet vacation Need not have to go far It could just end up to be here We could get in a car Fully automated no gears This life's is ours Never was theirs Now that then I know Little could I ease my ears To take a minute from my conscience Allowing my minds to weight in options A simple easy minor equations Could be the one that set my final decision
0
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Decisions
#*Words are the chemicals Packed in vials sublime Untouched pure in time Their base Property lyrical Words are the coefficients Reactants , The Thoughts and Emotions To balance the emotional equation Poetic are the words omniscient Combustible the thoughts, fragile the emotions Handle with care , the equations Cold storage processed, refilled Magnanimous ,the words distilled Thoughts never too dormant Never static the emotions The words a kinetic solution Potential they have Charmant*#
0
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
The Words
And it is braided with silk, but woven of plastic- -materialistic; corrugated ridges on burnt iron legs. But to the streets of suburban deforestation, Her influential deciphering - infatuated - purged Of seamless equations and reincarnated followers, Abides by the diamond-bleach, the sultry circuits, Poised in the foetal position for the last - yet first - Time.
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
Materialistic
Sinking To a familiar imprint in the sand Salt traffic jams Shark teeth and flared nostrils Fingers numb Curled around the trigger Cannot let go. But through the noise Ripples Quadratic equations I see a blurred sunset It feels like the day we first met.
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Distortion
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Under curves and over slopes, Equations rise and fall endlessly In a perfectly measured void. Optimized, rationalized, sterilized; Formulas that never lie, Theorems looming before us Like an archaic God, A golden deity whose Volume is maximized. How I dream of drifting in this flux, Concave up and concave down, Riding the sign of my second derivative For positive and negative, For better and worse. I would not travel alone; With C by my side, Friend, ally, brother, Always paired with my antiderivative, For whenever we journey back Into the past, it is necessary To have a companion to pull us out again In case we are unsure of where we started. Rules and laws Strict organization, control; There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Order; two plus two is always four. Sines and cosines and theta All dancing in the unit circle of life, A conga line that joins itself To form a mathematical ouroboros. But the harshest of the harsh beauties Presented in this Divine Subject Is that though there is an infinite capacity For positivity and growth, So too is there the possibility of stretching Endlessly towards negativity forever. However, it is much more terrifying To lie in the middle; To be undefined, unknowable, and to add Or subtract to no effect; The most fear inducing, mysterious, and gorgeous number Of zero; nothing yet something, Infinite yet not, The most grand of all contradictions. A hole; a jump; a discontinuity, Easily removed from life and smoothed out If you just apply the formulas. Graphs and coordinates, integers and ordered pairs, Is that not what life is? We live within the grandest equation, Each our own variable, Constantly solving for ourselves With the harsh beauties of mathematics.
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Calculus
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Under curves and over slopes, Equations rise and fall endlessly In a perfectly measured void. Optimized, rationalized, sterilized; Formulas that never lie, Theorems looming before us Like an archaic God, A golden deity whose Volume is maximized. How I dream of drifting in this flux, Concave up and concave down, Riding the sign of my second derivative For positive and negative, For better and worse. I would not travel alone; With C by my side, Friend, ally, brother, Always paired with my antiderivative, For whenever we journey back Into the past, it is necessary To have a companion to pull us out again In case we are unsure of where we started. Rules and laws Strict organization, control; There is a harsh beauty in mathematics. Order; two plus two is always four. Sines and cosines and theta All dancing in the unit circle of life, A conga line that joins itself To form a mathematical ouroboros. But the harshest of the harsh beauties Presented in this Divine Subject Is that though there is an infinite capacity For positivity and growth, So too is there the possibility of stretching Endlessly towards negativity forever. However, it is much more terrifying To lie in the middle; To be undefined, unknowable, and to add Or subtract to no effect; The most fear inducing, mysterious, and gorgeous number Of zero; nothing yet something, Infinite yet not, The most grand of all contradictions. A hole; a jump; a discontinuity, Easily removed from life and smoothed out If you just apply the formulas. Graphs and coordinates, integers and ordered pairs, Is that not what life is? We live within the grandest equation, Each our own variable, Constantly solving for ourselves With the harsh beauties of mathematics.
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54
study, cram, call, make plans... power point, presentation, speech, rewrite... theory, materialism and idealism and the difference, Marx, Freud to psychoanalyze... on to polynomials, linear equations, I make a scientific notation... take a break. (eat) ham sweet and thick with lots of pineapple and some cherries potato bread and cheese PowerAde to rehydrate little vodca with o.j. and cigarette after lunch, breathe . and it’s back to study lab to mentally beat meat. paper due, final today, did I remember to triple check and get rid of paper clips, include a cover sheet... ready to evaluate... I think. ready to second guess, miss dates and time, "you're late" again... 95, 98, 3.5 GPA? pre-test, for final, make sure your research is done, site, source, quote, student rate and double space power nap, smoke again, is the day over yet?..
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
first half of today
I used to think in numbers. 1: There’s one of me. Alone. Plus 4: my family. Still 1, but 5, or 4 plus 1; that’s me, alone. I used to think in numbers. 36: That’s weeks of school; That’s weeks of math class, math class, calculator; Father, Son, and Calculator. Trinity: the holy three, the three, the 3 times 36: that’s 108. I used to think in numbers. Math class, algebra, room 108. I hate, I hate, I love, I hate, I hate the way they look at me. They look at me like man at dog, like planet hogs, throw books at me like cannons cogged at ninety-minute intervals at cinder walls until I fault and cringe and fall, and fall like London Bridge and crash, and fall like Blown-out glass gone back to class. I pass the tests and cash regrets like rent checks bounced across the bridge that they knocked down. Because I used to think in numbers, yeah, but now?         Well, sure. Abrasions hurt. And yeah, we all want friends. But at least equations work and keep their balance on both ends. So I will rock this scatter-plot of social contract to its peak until my hands are red meat. I am no dead beat; I hold the world record for blood lost to a summer camp spread sheet. But then, but then somewhere along that number line, a 6 stared down its stage fright when just 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 days before the show, I met a girl who barred my better judgment like a cage fight, and thank God she did, because for once, I put away the calculator, and I listened to her voice, and it sounded like… well, it sounded like it sounded. And for once, I sat and wrote about the things that can’t be counted. I surrendered to the cage fight, and I fell into a deep hole. And to be honest, I don’t miss spreadsheet summers, ‘cause it’s easier to keep cool. I used to think in numbers, yeah, but now I think in people.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
Summer Camp Spreadsheet
I used to think in numbers. 1: There’s one of me. Alone. Plus 4: my family. Still 1, but 5, or 4 plus 1; that’s me, alone. I used to think in numbers. 36: That’s weeks of school; That’s weeks of math class, math class, calculator; Father, Son, and Calculator. Trinity: the holy three, the three, the 3 times 36: that’s 108. I used to think in numbers. Math class, algebra, room 108. I hate, I hate, I love, I hate, I hate the way they look at me. They look at me like man at dog, like planet hogs, throw books at me like cannons cogged at ninety-minute intervals at cinder walls until I fault and cringe and fall, and fall like London Bridge and crash, and fall like Blown-out glass gone back to class. I pass the tests and cash regrets like rent checks bounced across the bridge that they knocked down. Because I used to think in numbers, yeah, but now?         Well, sure. Abrasions hurt. And yeah, we all want friends. But at least equations work and keep their balance on both ends. So I will rock this scatter-plot of social contract to its peak until my hands are red meat. I am no dead beat; I hold the world record for blood lost to a summer camp spread sheet. But then, but then somewhere along that number line, a 6 stared down its stage fright when just 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 days before the show, I met a girl who barred my better judgment like a cage fight, and thank God she did, because for once, I put away the calculator, and I listened to her voice, and it sounded like… well, it sounded like it sounded. And for once, I sat and wrote about the things that can’t be counted. I surrendered to the cage fight, and I fell into a deep hole. And to be honest, I don’t miss spreadsheet summers, ‘cause it’s easier to keep cool. I used to think in numbers, yeah, but now I think in people.
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57
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 "WHY AM I SO DUMB?"
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 10:29 PM UTC
Advanced Algebra
Why Do I have to learn this? Math hates me Didn't you know? The triangles glare The equations stare The postulates and theorems whisper nasty things The formulas judge The polygons sneer I just want to get out of here Take me away Back to English class The one without the numbers
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
Geometry
one plus one equals two  just like me and you  but why'd you have to divide your heart  couldn't you give it to me as a whole part?  I used to love math  But now it gives me problems  Literal ones Couldn't it ask for simpler answers?  I asked why I had to find your x  but you didn't answer y  oh these complicated equations  these numerous fractions  oh yes, fractions and ratios  you gave me a fraction of your heart  yes, just a half and kept the other  just so you could give it to someone else  oh why did math come into my life  WHAT THE HECK WILL I USE IT FOR?  I don't need to use my empty brain  THAT'S WHY THEY MAKE CALCULATORS  I didn't sign up for this  I won't be a mathematician anyway  Oh wait, I lost the point  IT WAS YOU WHO THREW ME AWAY  now I'll just go back to being half of everything I used to be
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC
Math
If I were a teacher, I'd teach plagiarism Like a patent office. I'd teach publication Like plagiarism, And I'll proofread Any paper that properly Cites their sources. I'd teach every Kid from age X to Y That if I can't Lift them as High as they Want to go Than somebody Else Can. I would be the man, That teaches subjects Like I'm their King, And I'd spread Knowledge to every Acre of my empire I'd teach anything. See, I'd teach chemistry By making the reaction of Why and How Always synthesize Wow. I'd be a catalyst For positive change By keeping every School-yard bully and kid that's always picked last Around after class To teach them physics, Like if you have mass And you take up space Then you ******* matter. I'd put the cool in Coulombs. I'd be so electrostatic About magnetic fields You could feel my fluxin' Energy in the hallway. I'd say His story, And Her story, And everyone in-between's story, Is about the day their parents met. I'd teach sex-ed Like it's about the Day their parents met. And it wouldn't be weird It'd be beautiful. Because anybody falling In love is beautiful. And speaking of beautiful: Mathemagics, Would no longer Be a bottomless hat But a bird. With feathers and wings And things that always Find their way home. I'd transform The Fourier of Our foundations With equations Of equality Like you, And I are Always equal to Us. It'll be cake To be genius. ....Or pie Or whatever else is rational In this situation. And I Would measure intelligence With the answer to the question Of why we are alive. I'd standardize Every test By removing Any box that Takes us Further apart I would make art Combining every Color from East to West In a masterpiece That every child can draw We'll call it "human" I would solve World hunger And war, And every other problem That stems from greed With answers to the Questions that I still Don't know But I would show Everyone whose ever Made you hurt That a broken heart Has still got the Courage to beat Because it's their words Where the heart breathes Where the heart bleeds Where the heart sleeps And it's our dreams That keep us awake In the wake of our past So I'd put every love letter And box of their **** On a bonfire, light a match, And we would watch it burn. Hell, If I were a teacher I'd say there's So much left That I've still got To learn.
0
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
If I Were a Teacher
If I were a teacher, I'd teach plagiarism Like a patent office. I'd teach publication Like plagiarism, And I'll proofread Any paper that properly Cites their sources. I'd teach every Kid from age X to Y That if I can't Lift them as High as they Want to go Than somebody Else Can. I would be the man, That teaches subjects Like I'm their King, And I'd spread Knowledge to every Acre of my empire I'd teach anything. See, I'd teach chemistry By making the reaction of Why and How Always synthesize Wow. I'd be a catalyst For positive change By keeping every School-yard bully and kid that's always picked last Around after class To teach them physics, Like if you have mass And you take up space Then you ******* matter. I'd put the cool in Coulombs. I'd be so electrostatic About magnetic fields You could feel my fluxin' Energy in the hallway. I'd say His story, And Her story, And everyone in-between's story, Is about the day their parents met. I'd teach sex-ed Like it's about the Day their parents met. And it wouldn't be weird It'd be beautiful. Because anybody falling In love is beautiful. And speaking of beautiful: Mathemagics, Would no longer Be a bottomless hat But a bird. With feathers and wings And things that always Find their way home. I'd transform The Fourier of Our foundations With equations Of equality Like you, And I are Always equal to Us. It'll be cake To be genius. ....Or pie Or whatever else is rational In this situation. And I Would measure intelligence With the answer to the question Of why we are alive. I'd standardize Every test By removing Any box that Takes us Further apart I would make art Combining every Color from East to West In a masterpiece That every child can draw We'll call it "human" I would solve World hunger And war, And every other problem That stems from greed With answers to the Questions that I still Don't know But I would show Everyone whose ever Made you hurt That a broken heart Has still got the Courage to beat Because it's their words Where the heart breathes Where the heart bleeds Where the heart sleeps And it's our dreams That keep us awake In the wake of our past So I'd put every love letter And box of their **** On a bonfire, light a match, And we would watch it burn. Hell, If I were a teacher I'd say there's So much left That I've still got To learn.
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127
Terrorism has mushroomed all across the world. Greenery here is not less, some terror must be unfurled. I 've heard that some desi terror outfit has taken birth. More shadowy than shadow, their secrets difficult to unearth. Help is required from security agencies of developed land. There they lock up terrorists for years without trial on remand. They've trained dogs to smell terrorists before they become one. Our country is developing fast, soon it will be second to none. Full use of the cyberspace this local foxy terror group makes. In this virtual world whose identity is real? whose fake? This tricksy group makes bombs sophisticated, smart. It targets selected only, suddenly before they can depart. But few unintended ones died in blast, must be suicide bombers, Indeed! Terrorists don't understand political equations, what is the need? Now our Police catches terrorists just minutes after the blast. Their must be some-kind of relief for citizens shocked, aghast. My little brother eats my head, wants to catch a tiger alive. Jocularly I advised it is animal dangerous, flesh and bone it can rive. Instead we can catch a cat and with continuous torture and grill we can make it confess to be a tiger, with third degree surely it will.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Voice Against Terrorism
There's this special seed inside of us That glitters, shines, and grows Planted by an equally special person One that everybody knows. The one that woke up early this morning And downed their coffee for the day While you dig out your favorite shirt And they keep their nerves at bay. The person that decorates for new children Hangs up posters and note cards Tacks up the yearly alphabet trim And clears the weeds from the school yard. Stands and greets equally nervous kids Hands them name tags and a book And hopes that their anxiety melts away To be excited like they should. The history and math books open Pages are assigned They're there to help you through it To make problems easier to find. To journey across another dimension Of equations and butterflies alike That prepares you for ACTs ahead And tests that you'll probably dislike. Well, that's all fine and dandy All these books and passing grades But what's more important is the seed inside That's planted in your brain. The seed that fuels your drive to learn Creates a light to help you grow Makes you crave another book Acquire everything there is to know. And I know a certain farmer That specializes in these seeds Who wants to make you reach the top So you'll realize everything you can be. These farmers go by 'teachers' The most amazing you can find Because of them, I try to be my best So I thank my teachers for their time.
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
Farmers
my intelligence is not defined by a number, nor a letter. nor should I be graded on a curve by people who don’t know me. What does knowing the pythagorean theorem have to do with me being a good person? what will memorizing words on a page help me with my rage raging about how education has become this conveyor belt chewing up and spitting out society’s warped up idea of intelligence. Throw me in a classroom with twenty-something students just to tell me I’m better than him but not as smart as her teachers saturating our brains with force fed textbook equations telling us this is what we have to know to make it “make it on time”, they say “Passing it in late is not okay” but when I am eventually thrown out of this conveyor belt of education the realization will be that life does not have a set schedule. my life will not change on time, as you ask I cannot cram my creativity onto a five-paragraph piece of paper. I cannot crunch my knowledge down onto six pages about who I am Don’t give me guidelines my future does not have guidelines you think you’re teaching us information but in reality, you’re teaching us around the system of how to get a passing grade but not the exceeding knowledge knowledge about what? Our history? what about our future? We can’t learn about our future by staring at a blackboard in a dim-lit room with twenty-something other people wondering what the hell we’re doing here but being too scared to stand up and ask.
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Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
Intelligence
my intelligence is not defined by a number, nor a letter. nor should I be graded on a curve by people who don’t know me. What does knowing the pythagorean theorem have to do with me being a good person? what will memorizing words on a page help me with my rage raging about how education has become this conveyor belt chewing up and spitting out society’s warped up idea of intelligence. Throw me in a classroom with twenty-something students just to tell me I’m better than him but not as smart as her teachers saturating our brains with force fed textbook equations telling us this is what we have to know to make it “make it on time”, they say “Passing it in late is not okay” but when I am eventually thrown out of this conveyor belt of education the realization will be that life does not have a set schedule. my life will not change on time, as you ask I cannot cram my creativity onto a five-paragraph piece of paper. I cannot crunch my knowledge down onto six pages about who I am Don’t give me guidelines my future does not have guidelines you think you’re teaching us information but in reality, you’re teaching us around the system of how to get a passing grade but not the exceeding knowledge knowledge about what? Our history? what about our future? We can’t learn about our future by staring at a blackboard in a dim-lit room with twenty-something other people wondering what the hell we’re doing here but being too scared to stand up and ask.
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46
In this trigonometric love equation You're my arcsin, You're my special angle, Secretly placed In that unit circle of feelings. You may arrange my major arcs and diameters Inside of it Perfectly triangular, Love will always have The same ratio pi. Our equation of love Is seemingly incompatible. It has philosophical numbers becoming Common geometric shapes Of love itself Like hidden spheres In triangles, But in real terms of graphing Our parallel lines of life Went on forever not crossing at any point Of this imperfect world. Our love is, in fact, A complex system of equations With the same set of three unknowns Searching their own values It has a narrative statement. You're my C. You're mister C, From c'telzing From caleptikide And from cataguerrillaism, In this beautiful madness of love. You know, our love is getting old In concentric circles, Those circles of time. Extrapolate it to infinity, sweetheart, You may be my semi-infinity Until the end of the time, That semi-infinity, In which I lose myself From time to time Each time coming From the same unique star As that already existent In an old Romanian novel, Which is called Lorelei.
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Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 1:47 PM UTC
An Impossible Math
death mourns a life that succumbs to suicide... classical lawless-ness? calls the jyst... a thieving; a stolen death, a suicide.... bride riddled to a bridge... baking... left half awake and half baked... you count with the number of blinding equations... your 80+ segments? i want nothing to be part of, whether polymath, bilingual, or polymath... you resd yourself into "it".... fuck you, and... **** off... in terms of .gif ***** files... no... the part where we don't parrot? for no worthwhile surprise! death is alal b & w... memory? all invigorating sepia... life? the blooming of color... you take shrooms, to invigorate the colors?! oh look... you're as loony as me... and why would i give a **** about your tall-tales of subversive religiosity?! you're right! like you have been with me to begin with... there aren't any! now?! suffer! you're in good hands... turns out?! i'm a sadist... i somehow tested the pain on myself... i enjoy... the pain, of others, having, prior, teased the pain on, myself! i forgot teasing the pain... i taste it... i welcome it... i've become welcoming in allowing it, a stature abbreviating a transcendence of victim-hood! i need pain, to craft an erasure of ever having the capacity to instruct a modus operandi for pleasure! death contra suicide... a fact contra a premature contest of pleasure... suicide is what death calls thief... there is no moral artifact of a "question"... suicide is the thief, when death is the executioner... what moral question is to be entertained? non! i can't blame the mortality arsonist... less Tartarus and more Gehenna... less S.S. and more khaki S.A. night of the broken windows and less... hyper-Hindu reincarnation, hue hue grey... woo woo the ashen pillage... no... i'm not here for the cinder and the ******** it's enough that i drink the sort of excuse, that sober people could hardly make excuses about... and that's enough... and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
death is robbed via suicide, i want to rob death of of its stature
death mourns a life that succumbs to suicide... classical lawless-ness? calls the jyst... a thieving; a stolen death, a suicide.... bride riddled to a bridge... baking... left half awake and half baked... you count with the number of blinding equations... your 80+ segments? i want nothing to be part of, whether polymath, bilingual, or polymath... you resd yourself into "it".... fuck you, and... **** off... in terms of .gif ***** files... no... the part where we don't parrot? for no worthwhile surprise! death is alal b & w... memory? all invigorating sepia... life? the blooming of color... you take shrooms, to invigorate the colors?! oh look... you're as loony as me... and why would i give a **** about your tall-tales of subversive religiosity?! you're right! like you have been with me to begin with... there aren't any! now?! suffer! you're in good hands... turns out?! i'm a sadist... i somehow tested the pain on myself... i enjoy... the pain, of others, having, prior, teased the pain on, myself! i forgot teasing the pain... i taste it... i welcome it... i've become welcoming in allowing it, a stature abbreviating a transcendence of victim-hood! i need pain, to craft an erasure of ever having the capacity to instruct a modus operandi for pleasure! death contra suicide... a fact contra a premature contest of pleasure... suicide is what death calls thief... there is no moral artifact of a "question"... suicide is the thief, when death is the executioner... what moral question is to be entertained? non! i can't blame the mortality arsonist... less Tartarus and more Gehenna... less S.S. and more khaki S.A. night of the broken windows and less... hyper-Hindu reincarnation, hue hue grey... woo woo the ashen pillage... no... i'm not here for the cinder and the ******** it's enough that i drink the sort of excuse, that sober people could hardly make excuses about... and that's enough... and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
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We are doing quadratic equations again in math. Find the domain when x is on the bottom of the fraction beneath 1 All "real" numbers, negative infinity to infinity.... ... not including 0? It can either be that or this, it cannot be "what is normal?" Jeopardy. Wrong? I think you're wrong. I'm finding something made up You're telling me to read your mind Well I can't. What about this... Let's say that I'm "x" Now find me other than undefined.
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 2:09 AM UTC
Find "x"