"formulas" poems
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!
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
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
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
O Geometry,
How I loathe the,
with thy prisms and proofs,
and thy figures and formulas,
and thy compasses and conjectures!
Why must thou require such mental strain?
- Wait,
What's that you say?
Calculus next?
O my dearest Geometry,
How I adore thy common sense and logic-based nature!
How I dread the day when we shall be forced to part!
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Math is witnessed at everything
It is behind infinite things
Capable of solving problems
From simple operations to Complicated theorems.
Math possess a long history...
Once taught by Physiologoi
Improved by history's Philosophers
Now being indoctrinated by Teachers.
Heart of all academic disciplines,
Bearer of intricate formulas,
The key behind all creation
Knowledge passed through generations.
From past mathematicians
To future problem solvers
Math changed through millennia
And so its problems and solutions.
Math can never be removed
It helped the world to improve
All society won't be like this to date
Math helped us all the way.
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 9:31 AM UTC
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.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
I want to speak your language. The language of warfare. Intellectual fornication. Lewd romance.
I want your socio. Your mad scientist. I want your hot breath and the touch of your whip.
I want your contradictions and your lies. Your formulas and numbers. I want your cold, cold hands upon mine.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
I love a good debate,
[science mixed with illusion]
and this year was no exception:
the debate on the best shapes for a kite
from design implementation, inception and execution
some sturdy string and industrial-strength glue
the machinations of whether to use plywood or bamboo
and of course built by your own fair hand
such was the intensity of discussion it continued
with an after-lunch stroll on the beach, where the uncles
drew their prize-winning geometry
with a primitive stick
in the sand
a question on the mathematics of aerodynamics aside
its currently a battle of the cyclic quadrilaterals
and documented film of it successfully tested and tried;
years of perfection honed by the skills of Fatherhood
to know instinctively the difference
between the brilliance of genius
and the borderline
just plain good
If nothing else has come from this
I now
know
[so as not to lose]
K = p/q over 2
or
K = ab – sin Ø
[are the formulas to use]
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 3:56 PM UTC
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
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
I go to school
I sit in class
I love to write
But I hate math
Behind my desk
I try to add
I draw the shapes
I make the graph
Learn formulas
I get confused
It's much too hard
Too many rules
Daddy can teach
He goes to schools
He shows them math
He knows the rules
I leave the bus
Dad gets the door
"How was your day?"
"I learned some more!"
Dad says, "Good Job,"
And turns to leave
I yell out, "Wait!
Can you help me?"
Dad hesitates
He sits me down
I bring out math
He starts to frown
"How is this hard?
Here's what you do!"
I smile as he
Explains the rules.
"I get it now!
Let's do this one!"
"I have to go
But you have fun."
My daddy leaves
I wear his frown
I try the math
It's harder now
"Daddy come back!"
I start to yelp
"I'm sure at school
That they can help."
I go to school
I sit in class
I love to write
But I hate math
Behind my desk
I just can't see
Can Mrs. teach?
She's not Daddy
I raise my hand
I wait a while
"Can you help me?"
Mrs. just smiles
"It's not all wrong.
Here's what you did.
Let's try it slow
And get it fixed."
That's not so hard
That's kind of cool
I laugh as she
Explains the rules
"Mrs. please stay
For just one more."
"I'm glad to help!
It's not a chore."
Before class ends
We take a test
I'm scared but I
Wish for the best
I turn it in
I start to leave
"I'm proud of you!"
Mrs. tells me
I check my grade
Right by the door
An "A" in math?
What in the world?
I leave the bus
Dad gets the door
"How was your day?"
"I learned some more!"
Dad says, "Good Job,"
But doesn't stay
I yell out, "Wait!
I got an A!"
Dad smiles. "In math?
I'm proud of you!
Maybe one day
You'll teach math too!"
I'm really glad
I learned the rules
But math should still
Be banned from schools
Thank you Mrs.
For teaching me
Since my Daddy
Had to go.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
we always want to re-invent ourselves when we feel
rejected, unwanted, left to the side.
we dye our hair or cut our hair or style our hair
so differently, so drastically, so unrecognizable.
we pack on make-up or strip our make-up
or pierce our faces, belly buttons, get tattoos, choose a permanent mark
to remind us of something solid;
something that represents
self-sufficiency or this too shall pass,
because we know we are gonna feel
rejected, unwanted, left to the side again
(and again, and again).
we buy new clothes, give away old ones to our friends,
new shoes, new bags, new look.
and we’re always picking up new vices, new habits, new addictions.
cigarettes, alcohol, razors,
all the late night reckless binges on wine, narcotics, food, cutting ourselves.
sometimes we pick up healthy ones too,
like running, swimming, dancing, yoga, meditating, resetting sleep patterns, taking vitamins, treating ourselves to the spa, eating regularly, getting out of the house to see friends.
we either avoid intimacy at all costs because we can’t fathom
the concept of trust anymore
or we dive into it with practically anyone, just to feel something real
because we are so ******* lonely,
but we never really feel anything real at all.
we make resolutions, goals, plans for our next relationships
so that they won’t follow the same patterns as our last crumbling ones
(they usually still do).
some of us change what we like, what we want, what we need
to impress people so that they
fall in love with us and will never leave us.
we begin disregarding ourselves for another person,
or disregarding everyone else for ourselves,
both because we don’t want to get hurt again.
and then somewhere, somehow after weeks, months, maybe even years of
the full fledged wavering of
destruction meeting recovering meeting ignorance meeting shyness meeting loneliness meeting accepting meeting fear,
we start to see the intricacies of the pattern much clearer -
we make all of these sudden changes because
we just want to feel better,
we just want to be better;
that’s all.
it’s taking charge, which is healthy.
it’s also making fact and point that we need to change to deserve love,
which is unhealthy.
all of it is like learning algebra for the first time,
some of us take a bit longer to understand it all; the formulas, the variables, the balance.
and once we understand the formula, the variables and the balance,
then we can welcome back the beautiful,
real version
of ourselves we’ve been trying to
cover up.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC
The
path leading
to radical acceptance
originates with a pause.
Stepping out of your solitude,
promptly let go of fear-driven reactivity.
Embracing and accepting all of your being,
surround yourself with the warmth of loving kindness.
Begin now to forgive yourself and others again and again.
Know that your capacity to be completely open brings wholeness.
There are no formulas for navigating all of life’s situations.
Listen with your natural intelligence and wise heart then,
by breaking out of the old confining patterns,
freedom and healing are yours to hold.
As awareness to truth deepens.
show gratitude to life
that is now
open for
you
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
Simplicity is so simple that
our mind are not well informed
in it's simple formation.
Simplicity is the ultimate
form of sophistication.
In it there are complexities
and it's quite interwoven.
Beautiful in its form.
It shows us the beauty of
creation telling its own stories
with peculiar history.
Nature is so deep and
captivatingly beautiful.
Intriguing in its own way
and profoundly awesome.
It's amazing how much of
it we really know.
Its so confounding how
many people really comprehends
the principle back of it.
In simplicity nature speaks.
Spirals of things visible are
so complex that it's configuration
and formulas are of simple nature,
only to be deciphered by a simple mind.
The mind of man is sophisticated
and complex but simple.
It's rhythm pulsates within the
intricate formation of the spirit behind it
making it one of the most simple
but not so understood things of nature.
Like a jigsaw puzzle it's sophisticated
complexity is made simple by a sound mind.
The mind has to be disciplined
to decode it's hidden ciphers.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 6:14 AM UTC
I exhale.
As I fade from this life, I’ll float into the next and to eternity. I am so deeply enveloped in this world that I dissolve into all the others. My body will decompose, and I will exist again as a new collection of atoms.
I suppose through delusional, philosophical excuse I am connected to this world. And I suppose that stardust constellates and buries themselves in my bones. So I must grow in dimensions greater than height, width, and length.
But the veins of this new world are thin wires of cables and in complex codes and formulas are sent to and received by another motherless machine. Although, I’d rather break these wires and create a spark that can be felt rather than seen.
Let me ignite a craving under the continents and satisfy a spark that cannot be replicated by plastic or manipulated into energy. Let me feel the pressure of the world and the thick atmosphere that caves my posture. Let me once more feel by the fibers of kings and commoners that lace through my veins.
The world is deteriorating and has been left so deprived of life’s ecstasy that it is now hollow and I can only hear my own echoes.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
How to move on?
I really don't know.
Moving on don't have formulas
or systematic process to follow.
It depends on you.
It all up to you, on how you can handle and carry on the
external and internal pain.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
I hold the negative feeling closer; I hold them like a bag filled with candy on the night of Halloween in a little boy’s arms,
I haven’t learnt that they give you cavities yet, my brain wrapped up in folds and folds of sheets made up of envy
Envy is like an old tree roots, springing from everywhere trying to get to the surface, the surface prone to erosion, is ****** into the black hole of envy
I can’t deny that I don’t like you talking to her, no I don’t, and I don’t even who I am anymore
This is not the person that I used to be, you have changed me so much, I worsen and worsen like a sapling left without sunlight
They say I run, away from feelings, oh I have tried to run away from you for so long but I fail like the ant trying to climb the 18th floor building,
And all this time I have kept my inhaler closer to my lips than ever
You hold me close like bag full of lyrics that are going to numb your burning slashes, that’s what I am, the medicine,
But I am never the lover or the girl who speaks of things that make you laugh, like the way the poppies laugh in the soft breeze or sunflowers in the meadows
I have said goodbye more times, than the no of times, the oranges have bled their citrus in my eyes while peeling and onions have made my cry while slicing
I need to slice all my feelings, dissect them, write the formulas and theories on the white sheets and paste them on my wall,
For everytime I am on the “running back to you” stage of separation
I will hold the negative feelings as far as possible; his dentist just gave him a root canal and filled up 8 cavities,
I think he has had enough of candies without brushing twice for a while and I think I have had enough of you for a lifetime.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 7:08 AM UTC
You don't have to remind me to listen to three AM school-night words that come out in the soft whispers you've been waiting to share with me in an attempt to shield it from the rest of the world
I'll remember the things you didn't say like engraved textbook lessons
when my skin starts to dampen and stick to my body like a raincoat
my head hits the wood desk so loud everyone stops pretending to pay attention
and i have to write
"he doesn't love me anymore" one hundred times on the chalkboard
and bang the parts of my past i wake up forgetting together
watching the chalk dust from the day my mother told me; they almost lost you fall to the floor
Every negative hallway interaction bubbles over in an abandonment issue chemical reaction
and I had to drop chemistry because I found none of the connections and formulas could fix the imbalance I carry around with me like i shouldn't be failing Psychology 101.
Maybe I'm clueless because I can't tell you why weather changes or square roots of negatives
But I can recite the lisence plate of the car my dad has never visited me in
and my sisters contact information for the 4 minute and 57 second call i can pay $6.43 to make to sit on the floor and learn about juvenile detention while history notes offer me cold faux-sympathy
Maybe I'm clueless because id rather memorize the way your hand moves down my back than the quadratic formula
and give up on poetry mid sentence
and change "moves" to "moved" because it's all in past-tense and the difference between present and present perfect and banging erasers and not sleeping and
forgetting how to function off of autopilot mode
and
there are lessons I will remember that won't come from staring at a projector screen
when to stop talking
how to look like you weren't just sobbing in the bathroom
the unwritten "give a stranger a ****** if they ask" rule
I'll remember every word you tell me like the test is next period and I'll study every syllable and drown in iambic pentameter
and I'll still fail
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
Open mouth,
Exhale smoke rings of equations and formulas revealing answers only discovered with the liberation death brings
Disperse your arsenal of gray matter upon me
While I absorb your reality T.V. and high school science projects
Accepting an empty proposal
Negotiation always on your terms
You spit game with out passion
Inhale sentences of herbal essences--
Burning like open flame on my voice, stealing my breath
Never stumbling over mistakes or transgressions
Dominating any and all fields of study with which you choose to fill your brainpan
I submit unwillingly in this prison,
in this prison for eternity.
How enveloping
This overload of pumping adrenal glands, excreting testosterone and overzealously prejudiced masculinity
Lack of understanding for femininity and sensible comfortability
Close your eyes
Heavy lies the head that wears the crown
So content atop a pillow bursting at the seams with $20's
1, 2, 3.
Knife. Fork. Spoon.
Drifting
Hundred dollar bills bouncing over the moon holding the cow's hand as you count your materialistic disguised happiness.
I can't read your poker face
I can't keep up
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
I may not be able to memorize trigonometric formulas
But I've sure memorized every word out of your mouth
I may find myself unable to write an essay about nuclear fission
But I could compose thousands of sonnets about your smile
I may never comprehend how millions of atoms inhabit the air around me
But I've never for a moment doubted my feelings for you
I may fall half asleep during a professor's drawn out lecture
But when I'm beside you every nerve in my body is a live wire
I may not have any idea of what I want to do in my life or where I'm going
But I know everything would seemingly fall into place
if only I could fall asleep next to you at night
and awaken in the early hours of the morning
with our limbs entangled
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Acrostic poems shouldn't be reserved for the
Mildly ******** fifth graders who still can't identify
Arkansas on a blank map of the United States.
Real "poets" use formulas, too. Are you trying to tell me
Elizabethan sonnets hold more "poetic" merit
Than this skillfully crafted,
Thought-provoking
Ode to my favorite liqueur?
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
We were states of matter
until we had chemistry
a pure of mix elements causing eradication
and more like atomic radiation
we were powerful
an affective pair
then biology taught me
to value every heart beat of yours
every tissue to cells
every cytoplasm to mitochondria
and that Czechoslovakia
that you were from
had a capital named Prague
during world history
but nothing interesting than your story
during our midnight phone call
then mathematics taught me to calculate the distance between us
and physics showed me our chance of collision in every single velocity
I have used all kinds of formulas I learnt to solve our problem
but dear
I got the answer of
good bye
Good bye,
High School.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 7:32 AM UTC
“Uni” consisting of one - one God of consistence
“verse” - His expression to all existence
The universe is finely tuned in mathematical formulas
The Maker’s way of coordinating an euphonious orchestra
No algorithm can describe - It’s undreamed of!
no song can measure the depth of His love.
But there is method to His heart
an ensemble He has chart
He had the future calculated all along
Jesus Christ- the bridge to His heavenly song
To save the lost - He paid the cost
And wrote the words which cleanse - Unwashed.
Through covenant He’s derived a relational endeavor
In hopes that you and I will make music with Him forever!
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
"What distillate can be discovered from herbs
of a witching brew," said an aesthete,
"what distillate prepared according
to the formulas of ancient Grecosyrian magi
which for a day (if no longer
its potency can last), or even for a short time
can bring my twenty three years to me
again; can bring my friend of twenty two
to me again -- his beauty, his love.
"What distillate prepared according
to the formulas of ancient Grecosyrian magi
which, in bringing back these things,
can also bring back our little room."
1.7k
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the freight of fright (one by one)
you don't see them often
out east,
the coupled cars of trains,
so long, one single train, touching,
two borders of one middle-of-the-country-state,
simultaneous
that said,
rode those couplers once or twice,
even now, sitting free fared on uncut lengths of rebar,
quiet humming on my knees, Clapton's Layla,
heading to a city that claims need for another skyscraper
but the freight train I ride and rode a million passenger miles,
so many miles, I ride now gold free for life,
that of course,
a curse,
an ironic joke
on me
the freight of fright,
of waking up tired,
after just having falling asleep
worthy of only short story nightmares,
alligator eaten dreams,
running from and to
the silver bullet band's lullaby;
*"running against the wind,
a young man,
running against the wind"*
this train, all mind mine,
don't carry no commodities,
no cars or washing machines,
its load is men, mostly me,
carrying grades of fright,
adding on and up a few more rail cars,
in strange cities,
different chemical formulas
but all prime fright, fear,
of waking up, still breathing
guess I can quit here,
no excuse making time to make a tome,
fright comes in small measures,
coupled together, this train,
this tracked, cracked dry riverbed
of a train,
and it goes on bye,
one by one
12:57am
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 1:06 AM UTC