"euclid" poems
Samantha Fox
Was a panther
In a previous life
As well as an ox.
Not to mention
The wife of a
17th century cobbler
On the outskirts
Of Gillingham.
Which is unusual
As those who remember
Past incarnations
Are usually the wives
Of Heads of Nations
Or helped build pyramids.
Actually said Samantha
I forgot to mention
I was also the transistor
In Euclid's protractor.
Can you get anachronisticer?
Oh reincarnation
The rebirthing
Mother of invention.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
Hail to Thee, Immortal Three
Knowledge we sing on laud
Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates
Philosophy, to be human awed
Teach through time, consciously
Nod not, what others fraud
Socrates taught, Divine Being
God not of brutal Athens’ passions
Entity of Beauty, Truth Seeing
Goodness unseen in day’s fashions
Soul for unalloyed agreeing
Lessons humanities’ compassion
Talk eternal justice, everlasting life
Socrates’ Sovereign Right of Reason
Clearly mind deceived sense’s strife
Invincible perfection be God’s season
Thus, our key to knowledge ever rife
Priests who find this, absolute treason
No church or Socratic school
A barefoot man roamed to teach
Socrates mocked for looking a fool
His speech not one to simply preach
Plato witnesses a martyr’s drool
Cruel hemlock, words did so breach
Handsome aristocratic youth Plato
Followed Socrates’ Eternal Wisdom
But soon to find his own credo
In Medara to find Euclid and freedom
Egyptian geometry to provide dado
To Plato life, expression; not a system
Eternally an artist, Plato did develop
Philosophic circle in Academus groves
Bring Athens, world knowledge envelop
Discretions of sensations, be not oaths
What man may be, an animal jealous
Plato’s allegorical cave found in droves
As Plato once be Socrates’ disciple
So too, to Plato would Aristotle be
Passing comprehension archetypal
Successions of genius’ visions do see
Aristotle taking it step further, as vital
To science of hands-on discovery
And this is where we see a parting
Of two distinctly opposing philosophies
Plato being at odds, with science starting
Aristotle’s truth, finding no apologies
Things not happening by chance imparting
Frivolity of duopoly, dichotomy to Socrates
But a new era has surely now dawned
Science exploring an invisible atom
And the seen and unseen correspond
So to Aristotle’s, Plato’s, Socrates’ datum
Brilliant new philosophies have spawned
An abstract notion of conceived stratum
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
XVIII
Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench
Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc’t and in his volumes taught our Lawes,
Which others at their Barr so often wrench:
To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
To measure life, learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heav’n a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
2.8k
AOK: Mathematics
By Rohan Baishya
Now listen up y'all imma give y'all a lecture
About how my intuition led to some dope conjectures.
But to verify these knowledge claims I'll need a proof,
No need to worry though, my logic's up through the roof.
I'll steal yo girl with my geometric paradigms.
Not to mention my bank balance is on a sharp incline.
Imma use derivatives to find the slope of that *****
Euclid used geometry, what a big loony.
Now Pythagoras used deduction to find the sides of triangles,
Now I can use induction to find the curves of this fine-angle.
So listen up homie, you're a bore with your empiricism;
I can explain everything with this dank rationalism.
Now math ain't 'bout using memory to cram some equations,
It's all about getting that intense sensation
of using reason to season your supported argument
but sometimes to calculate my Lambo's rent.
But now imma be busy with my new calculator via Fed-ex
So listen up girls, no *** until I solve for x
In conclusion, math is the secret to success
If you believe in the numbers you'll be relieving your stress.
Word
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
I'm seeking to amass a Collection
of the World's spiritual, mythic and philosophical codices.
I want to collect them out of veneration
for those who came before who have tried to illuminate the Paths:
The following is my library of such books of yet.
Entries in bold are my recommendations;
entries italicized are strongly recommended.
-Old Works:
**Egyptian Book of the Dead
Tibetan Book of the Dead
The Bhagavad Gita
Euclid's Elements**
Tao te Ching (I have 3 translations)
I Ching (2 translations and a workbook)
The Qur'an
The Bible
-Newer Works:
Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar: Philosophy explained through Jokes
*Quadrivium: Number, Geometry, Music, & Cosmology*
The Pulse of Wisdom - College Eastern Philosophy Book
*Food of the Gods by Terence McKenna*
The Elements of Reason - College Logic Book
1001 Perls of Buddhist Wisdom
*Net of Being by Alex Grey*
*Art Psalms by Alex Grey*
**The Portable Nietzsche
*The Red Book of Jung
The Portable Jung***
The Subtle Body - Encyclopedia of chakras, auras and other personal energy systems.
Who are you? - 101 Ways of Seeing Yourself
--
I seek to compile this Collection
not to have a nice looking bookshelf;
nor do I seek to find which one is right.
I seek to learn from each of these
the lessons that are intrinsic in our Lives;
they're all matters of perspectives.
I want to compile the aspects of each philosophy with which I resonate
and integrate them into my own,
forging a dynamic and holistic individual philosophy.
All of these books are Mystical masterpieces.
All of these books provide insights to the nature of our Holy Reality.
All of these books ultimately attempt to express the same ineffability.
All of these books are interpreted then translated and interpreted again.
The way I see it,
I may as well do it for myself; draw my own conclusions:
Think for myself.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:13 AM UTC
FROM his shoulder Hiawatha
Took the camera of rosewood,
Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
Neatly put it all together.
In its case it lay compactly,
Folded into nearly nothing;
But he opened out the hinges,
Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,
Till it looked all squares and oblongs,
Like a complicated figure
In the Second Book of Euclid.
This he perched upon a tripod -
Crouched beneath its dusky cover -
Stretched his hand, enforcing silence -
Said "Be motionless, I beg you!"
Mystic, awful was the process.
All the family in order
Sat before him for their pictures:
Each in turn, as he was taken,
Volunteered his own suggestions,
His ingenious suggestions.
1.8k
I said fate plays a game without a score,
and who needs fish if you've got caviar?
The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass
and turn you on--no need for coke, or grass.
I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen.
When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often.
I said the forest's only part of a tree.
Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee?
Sick of the dust raised by the modern era,
the Russian eye would rest on an Estonian spire.
I sit by the window. The dishes are done.
I was happy here. But I won't be again.
I wrote: The bulb looks at the flower in fear,
and love, as an act, lacks a verb; the zer-
o Euclid thought the vanishing point became
wasn't math--it was the nothingness of Time.
I sit by the window. And while I sit
my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit.
I said that the leaf may destory the bud;
what's fertile falls in fallow soil--a dud;
that on the flat field, the unshadowed plain
nature spills the seeds of trees in vain.
I sit by the window. Hands lock my knees.
My heavy shadow's my squat company.
My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked,
but at least no chorus can ever sing it back.
That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders
no one--no one's legs rest on my sholders.
I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express,
the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash.
A loyal subject of these second-rate years,
I proudly admit that my finest ideas
are second-rate, and may the future take them
as trophies of my struggle against suffocation.
I sit in the dark. And it would be hard to figure out
which is worse; the dark inside, or the darkness out.
Anonymous Submission
Joseph Brodsky
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC
XXI
Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws,
Which others at their bar so often wrench;
Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth, that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intends, and what the French.
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heav’n a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
1.6k
I’m chasing an early grave down Euclid Ave
and no one is looking in the right direction
Did i mention i was on fire?
This is store-bought depression
with the white plastic bag that says THANK YOU in red lettering
Now its turned to blood
This is how you feel
when you can’t recall where you were during 9/11
Give me your mass-produced discontentment
I want to smoke and not die
Sometimes i dont want to die at all
Today the oldest person in the whole-wide world took her last breath
she was 117
On her birthday last march she said her life felt too short
Where the **** does that leave me
I wish i were born a lobster so id
get stronger and meatier with age
and then when I’m at my prime they’d ****** me up
to sell on the market for a few hundred dollars
When you devour me remember to wear something nice
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
Flatten the Earth. Peel the orange
into a butterfly
Octahedral symmetry guarantees it
**** Euclid assumed
How can we be sure of anything anymore?
If we question the fundamental postulates
Do social norms work as postulates?
We assume X, therefore X is true
Cease your baseless premise
Stop the assumption
Deconstruct and be free
Yet we can never be free
Liberation is what we crave
A liberation from power
from language
from truth
from meaning
and yet it chases us down
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC
of Euclid's Parallel Postulate
I feel like a line to never touch
in geometric space veering off
into infinite angles,
always congruent
I need to enjoy the parabolic
spherical
stand in one spot
and the focus of the parabola
will become
an axis of symmetry
if I hold still
long
enough
to the curves.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
I told myself I would never do it again
as my body sank into my best friend's bed
"are you okay?"
"yeah, you?"
"yep."
the trip home was silent
and the sedan suddenly turned into an eighteen wheeler,
the rear view mirrors sticking out like Dumbo's ears.
we are in a cartoon.
I am convinced we are in a cartoon
and we are flying
Dumbo could fly, too.
through euclid, and vernon, and lund
we are mute
and we are
happy
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
In this beautiful place of worship, the pews are padded but uncomfortable, the sanctuary large, candle lit and cold.
There's a huge glass dome and I can see the stars. Are the stars our fiery heaven??
No, I don't think the stars care about us - they don't burn with affection or passion. And if the stars weren't there we could live with an empty sky.
The Greeks would call on our star, the Sun, to perform their acts of God. I imagine most of their prayers went unanswered - not unlike our own??
To me, the whole Jesus story is somewhat sinister and inauspicious, but if Jesus, the son of God, and that whole story were the deepest, truest reality - then why hasn't Jesus returned??
Imagining heaven's father and son dialog
God: "Ok, Jesus, time to go back.."
Jesus: "Go back... go back?? Daaaaad... Did you see what they DID to me???.. nailed me to a cross; ***** them, there's no way I'm going back. Why don’t you try going back, as an ordinary man - maybe they’ll set you on fire.”
These 20 millennium old bible stories aren't exactly Euclid's logical system.... I mean, the various books aren't even consistent. Are these really, I mean really our beliefs? Or are they just kind of traditions and good rules to live by?
My parents - unlikely pilgrims in the intoxicating poetry of belief - face front and appear to be listening... in all other things they're so skeptical - it's a puzzle.
If Jesus did come back, wouldn't he practically be a caveman surrounded by bewildering technology?
I'm sorry, There's something too rich in creation for these rehearsed responses and fairy-tale fragments from a primitive world to be the answer.
Now I'm not saying there is no God or no life after death.. I.. just.. hopeless shrug
So, anyway - I go through the motions, I chant the litanies with the enthusiasm of obedience; just storing up my spiritual loot and hiding my questioning, heathen heart.
Happy Easter everyone!
Apr 9, 2023
Apr 9, 2023 at 10:24 AM UTC
meeting you was like brushing shoulders with
god – once i turned around to catch a glimpse
of you, i realized it would take a requested but
granted miracle for us to intersect. they say in
euclid geometry that two parallel lines will
never touch despite the fact that they lie on the
same plane going in the same direction. as long
as that plane kept us interconnected, i thought it
would be okay to let you speak words of
resurrection to me. as long as the roses inside my
chest continue to blossom and as long as you
continue to help pluck off all the overgrowth of
thorns, i thought it would be okay to let you see
me for the beast that lies under my beauty. it feels
like i’m getting closer to the truth, but further
from the one that i’ve been looking for. the big
picture looks a lot like manifest destiny collided
with continental drift.
there is something called the bermuda triangle.
this is not to be mistaken as a metaphor for an
unrequited love triangle. a significant number
of aircraft and ships have mysteriously vanished
from thin air, so they have made a name specifically
for the catastrophic triangular death sentence
phenomenon that lies out in the north atlantic
ocean. i think of myself as the one aircraft that
plummeted into the waters early. despite how
long i’ve been flying this aircraft, it’s the turbulence
that puts me at risk for something like this. i didn’t
know being one of many parallel lines would have
a death sentence. mother nature is laughing at me
as i sink, because i’ve forgotten how to swim.
i’ve become a part of the empty space on the plane
filling in that void until you eventually collided
with a perpendicular line changing your direction.
parallel lines don’t get the satisfaction of ever
crossing into each other. they are always at arms
distance. close enough to touch, but not close enough
to feel the ghost of their breath on our cheeks. we’ve
acknowledged that the other exists, but not the fact
that we could divert from our paths towards each
other. loving you was a learning experience. it was
learning that i shouldn't swim into deep waters, but
i shouldn't stand in a three foot pool. this is why i want
to know if there is such a thing as non-euclidian
geometry, if there is hope for us parallel lines that
will never collide with our soulmates.
- kra
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 3:08 AM UTC
On the sandy shore of a distant memory, Euclid picked up a stick and began tracing the outline of some vague shape. At the first vertices he was interrupted by a hissing sound. Looking down in horror, what initially appeared a stick slowly coiled around his forearm and sank its teeth into his veins. As he watched the ocean spread its depths, he felt the sharp pain of platelets separating from plasma. Euclid walked into the gaping void and awaited reunion. Waves folding around him , his last sight was of a naked woman; she had the curves of a triangle.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 2:13 PM UTC
Like a holiday in a person
The ultimate diplomat
Gilded with tweed
Won the Euclid and the Fermat
Child prodigy
And a perfect gentleman
A perfect gentleman
You were Atlantis
when I first met you
I was so terrified
that I couldn't impress you
You were so perfect
So beautiful
You smelled like flowers
Had to know what the smell was
What flower?
Where are you from?
What are you? Who are you?
A breath of fresh air?
An angel, a fairy?
A devil, a liar?
You packed up your Viper's tongue
Your lyre
Your childish analogies
It seems you have a taste for
skinny pale intellectuals
with unusual but not improbable hair colours
And now you're in Florence
Did I scare you away?
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 4:48 PM UTC
I watched. I listened. I took your hand when survival reacted.
Not anything as simple as the frail bodies we contort.
Your cry was in the wind, it was a thing from your being.
I tried. Too hard. I thought. Too much. My truth was Euclid, verity's soul it seems fracted.
Enough though it seemed. A while, we dreamed.
Enough.
Now i wake to sleep. My pen gainst my page shan't paint love this deep.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
Introduction:
She was a
Blooming flower envious as day
Primitive world could not lock her away.
She was
One of a kind
A tender heart and a beautiful mind.
She was
was a mathematician
and a philosopher
in an age where women were tied
and made to silently suffer.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
whatever I describe
must seem less
as data lie insufficient
and can not be regressed
The jewel shone brightly
reflecting light of planet and stars
and the light attracting
students from places far.
In kingdom of Alexandria
Where knowledge was power
she strode through the ladder
reaching pinnacle of the tower
All her students admired her
every one equal in her class
Like the first notions of Euclid
all equal to her and hence
equal to each other.
Never covered herself
in a cowl or cape
boldly she strode her world
even inventing Astrolabe
But alas! By religious fanatics
She was proclaimed a witch
Political victim to the
treacherous vines of jealousy
Kidnapped from her carriage
She was dragged into the
the holy caesareum
clothes ripped off by
the mob and ******
later her limbs were cut
and the body tied to a stake
only to be engulfed by the flames
and the mob around jumped
triumphantly in joy
proclaiming victory to god.
In present time too
she lays forgotten
as world desperately
tries to shed off
its masculine rag worn
for ages now torn
as some still try to stitch
it again.
And as I write with
tears in my eyes
her last words ring through
as she silently whispers
I forgive all of you.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC
According to the Euclid's first axiom of Geometry,
It is the existence of the line between you and I.
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC
You’re a cold nostalgia
because you’re still my
this time last year
sitting on the Pendleton
stoop asking me why
like you always would
and I’d always say
because. I never really
knew an answer, I only
knew I did.
And in this way we were
good but I always knew
I’d end up ****** and
without you. I cried when
I moved out the studio
off Euclid Avenue. I sat
by myself in a different
emptiness than the one
we moved into. Then, I too
left for good.
And in the ways the night
is wanted, I never sleep
alone. And all the love
that I’ve had since, I tell
them why because
I don’t.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC
Nine muses attend the burning
of creation. Sing they.
Songs of sadness. Flames
fill the night.
Smoke carries the knowledge of Ptolemy across the sky.
Fire
from Caesar’s burning fleet*
ignites the home of Euclid and Heron.
Words that knew the world reduced to embers.
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 10:21 AM UTC
See Moe with a cup of joe,
***** hair, he's old.
There's his toes through his
socks, basically bone.
The rains made his
calling card runny.
He says he wouldn't have it if
he got his car running.
His excuses are pitiful,
he's sticking anticubitals,
Planning a funeral
But he'll wake up per usual
With a cop bop of the
Top of his head.
Wipe the sleep, find a corner
Shake his hand for some bread.
The coins don't fill up in
Des Moines though.
His kinfolk don't recognize
Him anymore-
Ain't that something?
Used to break bread
But took off running.
Didn't even look back when
They heard that he was bumming.
Moe can't get out of this hole.
Chasing charlie really took its toll.
Now he's the saddest thing on Euclid
And it's stupid.
Went and fought for freedom just
To come home and lose it.
The poor man, can't even afford
A storage can.
Old school hobo
Played war with his hands.
Now we don't even give a ****
Now he's asking around for a bullet
He can swallow.
This what happens when your soul goes hollow.
What fills him rage is he lied about his age.
Woulda been a different story if
This fib wasn't played
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
It's poison by any other name,so
let's call it the politics
of the insane.
We have a boom
then
another boom and when there's not
enough room
we bomb someone.
So we call it a war and say,
there are militants and terrorists kicking down the door
and today we must stop them,
we must hold them at bay,
so
we bomb families who pray to their own prophets
in lands where
there are profits to be made.
When it all turns to dust we call it a bust
and wait for the boom to return.
A capital Idea from capitalists who sit in the rear,
on their rears and direct operations,
like surgeons with scalpels they incise the healthy,
issue more wealth to the wealthy,
build more machines to distribute toxins
dioxins and cancers sold by
necromancers to the rancid and putrid and,
(what about Euclid?)
an algorithm of this geometry means **** all to me
all I can see is death.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
I'm a Circle in a Box
I defy Euclid
I defy law
I defy words
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC