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"homogeneous" poems
Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts,  lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better    Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short    Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive    Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary    Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it.    Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out    Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant    Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned    Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns    Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule  the roost
0
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Dynamics of love
Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts,  lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better    Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short    Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive    Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary    Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it.    Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out    Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant    Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned    Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns    Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule  the roost
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79
you in quail feathers means that your red is my red and the way that you taste pizza is the way that I taste it our homogeneous brains hard mother hard father the states we were raised in melt running through area 41 where the nefarious Rolando implanted our splitting branches qualia what it means for you to have mental states pure consciousness perceiving you there in the corner your toenails still painted purple
0
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 6:00 PM UTC
diaphanous
And while she lie awake pondering existence in itself; she realised that it - it and everything else, would be always and unavoidably tied to disappointment. The two are linked- so closely to the point where they are almost homogeneous. Because people were broken. And because she was broken.
0
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
Broken
Dear Sanity, In the night, I wake to find myself without your company, but the warmth of the chain about my neck keeps you at the forefront of my mind. The heavy links rake across my flesh searing your disapproval; pulling me to your ankles so that I might kiss them for mercy. Branded at the chest by this heart of yours, though, I am the very antithesis of your will. I was seduced by the comfort of your homogeneous masses and tempted by the fruits of my curiosity. Yet, it is through fire—the deep passions of my essence—that I will be reborn. And you, who I loved through the eyes of others, will HOWL at my betrayal! Then stand upon your mountain peak and bludgeon me with reason so that I might know what your light looks like.   To what end? So that I might cling to this chain, this keepsake, which I did not need until you bestowed your judgment. Yes, judgment, though you would have me believe it is your friendship, your safety, your sympathy. Like the swelter of a thousand suns you oppress me saying, “Keep quiet your ***** yearning!” So who would know better, the hour of my discontent, than you who watches me, unblinking, during the day? It is here, at the tween of night, that I shed the scales from my eyes and throw off your burden of want—the goals for which you leave me always pining, but never appeased. Is this shirking to seek the dark? So be it. I will cloak myself in blood—for all that I am wrong—and dance in the pale light of the unassuming. —Pandora -------------------- And the faces of the homogeneous masses drew forthwith to witness dawn. In a drawer, There was found, A locket with A minor crown— Of leaf: laurel, And shaded night. When opened up All succumbed to fright. For found inside Was a broken light; Pandora’s hope Had lost the fight
0
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
The Gift of Bane: Pandora’s Conviction
Dear Sanity, In the night, I wake to find myself without your company, but the warmth of the chain about my neck keeps you at the forefront of my mind. The heavy links rake across my flesh searing your disapproval; pulling me to your ankles so that I might kiss them for mercy. Branded at the chest by this heart of yours, though, I am the very antithesis of your will. I was seduced by the comfort of your homogeneous masses and tempted by the fruits of my curiosity. Yet, it is through fire—the deep passions of my essence—that I will be reborn. And you, who I loved through the eyes of others, will HOWL at my betrayal! Then stand upon your mountain peak and bludgeon me with reason so that I might know what your light looks like.   To what end? So that I might cling to this chain, this keepsake, which I did not need until you bestowed your judgment. Yes, judgment, though you would have me believe it is your friendship, your safety, your sympathy. Like the swelter of a thousand suns you oppress me saying, “Keep quiet your ***** yearning!” So who would know better, the hour of my discontent, than you who watches me, unblinking, during the day? It is here, at the tween of night, that I shed the scales from my eyes and throw off your burden of want—the goals for which you leave me always pining, but never appeased. Is this shirking to seek the dark? So be it. I will cloak myself in blood—for all that I am wrong—and dance in the pale light of the unassuming. —Pandora -------------------- And the faces of the homogeneous masses drew forthwith to witness dawn. In a drawer, There was found, A locket with A minor crown— Of leaf: laurel, And shaded night. When opened up All succumbed to fright. For found inside Was a broken light; Pandora’s hope Had lost the fight
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18
i just need to sleep on this head full of forgotten strengths and ever-present sorrows and hope that the stale morning will come within the blink of an eye and like thick steam my thoughts will dissipate into the cold, dry air and become nothing but a homogeneous mixture of nitrogen and oxygen soon consumed into my waiting lungs too damaged by smoke to know the difference between clean air or anything else
0
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
lung capacity
Before hearing about your death I began a novel inspired by you and your struggle with the truth-- The truth of who you were, what you wanted of life and of me. And it became a journey into the past, into a life that had happened before we met, decades ago, and after we parted for good, I wove a new life out of remnants, of things I knew or just supposed. And like a good researcher, I told of your parents' failings, the darker side of love. Of your grandmother and friends, and even your cousin who brought you to me, Luring you out of the homogeneous crowd and into our perfect valley-- "the land of spires and dreams". I even spoke warmly of our artless love and our drifting apart like ghost ships. After our second parting, when you left the mortal coil, I tried not to reminisce about us, for the story was yours, not mine, But I fear that a mirror kept cropping up behind me and around corners, erasing mystery. Narcissus caught me time and again. Even so, I created times for you that I had never seen or heard. I have you swimming off La Jolla, traipsing on mountain paths in the wilds of British Columbia, or arguing with your wife in that mansion you dreamed of. I invented a girl you would like and two kids who loved you in spite of everything. Your memories of me became less urgent, locked in a chess box, in songs or on film, hidden away. I analyzed your youth, your vanity, lust, boredom, mistakes and age. And when it came time for you to make a decision: to stay or go again, either west or east, I stopped and looked over your life, rolled out flat, like the American plain from western crags to eastern city and like a broken record, the choice shuttled back and forth, not letting me decide for you. Glancing at a photo of your childhood home, I realized at last, not that you had died too soon, but that I really never knew you.
0
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 6:00 PM UTC
I Never Knew You
Before hearing about your death I began a novel inspired by you and your struggle with the truth-- The truth of who you were, what you wanted of life and of me. And it became a journey into the past, into a life that had happened before we met, decades ago, and after we parted for good, I wove a new life out of remnants, of things I knew or just supposed. And like a good researcher, I told of your parents' failings, the darker side of love. Of your grandmother and friends, and even your cousin who brought you to me, Luring you out of the homogeneous crowd and into our perfect valley-- "the land of spires and dreams". I even spoke warmly of our artless love and our drifting apart like ghost ships. After our second parting, when you left the mortal coil, I tried not to reminisce about us, for the story was yours, not mine, But I fear that a mirror kept cropping up behind me and around corners, erasing mystery. Narcissus caught me time and again. Even so, I created times for you that I had never seen or heard. I have you swimming off La Jolla, traipsing on mountain paths in the wilds of British Columbia, or arguing with your wife in that mansion you dreamed of. I invented a girl you would like and two kids who loved you in spite of everything. Your memories of me became less urgent, locked in a chess box, in songs or on film, hidden away. I analyzed your youth, your vanity, lust, boredom, mistakes and age. And when it came time for you to make a decision: to stay or go again, either west or east, I stopped and looked over your life, rolled out flat, like the American plain from western crags to eastern city and like a broken record, the choice shuttled back and forth, not letting me decide for you. Glancing at a photo of your childhood home, I realized at last, not that you had died too soon, but that I really never knew you.
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60
Numerology disturbs my fragile mind with its meanings of numbers which I think have no real meaning or use as symbols or signs and I seem to have a built-in bent ingrained in my head toward assigning definitions of meanings to these homogeneous numbers even though my conscious mind rebels at the thought so, you know, when some sign of a monster comes popping up into my life I get a bit of a freak-out twinge but, I know, nothing ever happens.
0
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 11:26 PM UTC
NUMBER RELIGION
So often I inhale your cathartic cocktail; it swoons me from my study, my brain trails. Homogeneous with my velvet red intertwines, all else hails. All exhales whisper, loftily, a separate tale. Your embers are like no other; they glow of yesteryear and retract into the present. The warmth and the darkness, you segment. Each draw, intoxicating, one after another. Like a con artist you remain vague, and disappear; any remaining inflection sails beyond the oculus; presence constant, but hueless. Those unacquainted always sneer. Knowing not, your gift is of the most diverse; but, in the end, like all else, your essence is a curse.
0
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 5:12 AM UTC
Sweet Succubus
By staring I make it blend It disappears Into a grey Filler my brain Creates to Take its place But the light In the window Gets stronger Fills more corners The birds get More social They flutter And tweet about Louder each minute Footsteps on the ceiling Flooded pipework Sounds in the walls The thoughts keep Racing dude, They don't disappear Though they blend Not quite grey but Mad colors I guess It's just my Eyes having fun When they're shut, They have a ball When they're open Too, isn't it true That "this Whole life is An hallucination?" I mean I guess so Maybe that's Why it makes No ******* sense Or maybe that's Why parents leave Kids to die And why Wives get beat Or dogs deprived I'm fairly Confident that those Things aren't necessary For us to survive But who could I be kidding Without the **** There's no growth Fertilizer for humanity Pieces of filth That sow seeds of Contempt within The homogeneous So they don't emulate Living as a **** I'm talking to you Manny, You disgusting pile of Maggot infested Skunk guts Rotting on Hot tarmac I can't wait for The mac's tires To splatter you. So little and defenseless. A monster, at best.
0
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:57 AM UTC
--So Many Beautiful Parts, No Beautiful Wholes--
The pavement is full of spurious persons, Training each other to pretend they're eclectic, Using differences to assert the vilification of mankind. Cross from them stands the truth, Perspicaciously watching The hedonists Be not heedful, Listening to their speeches full of trifling, inconsequential consequences. A furtive plan snakes from the mouth to the ears of the truth, Manipulating it to bolster the lies. The belief that everyone deserves rights Akin, alike, homogeneous, to the human nextto him, Is brought down with the laud, the praise, the inception of the end.
0
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 7:54 AM UTC
1
when the moon draws a shape maybe a flower or a heart along the homogeneous equivalence of an asphalt – oh are you driving so fast? made of the frosty glitters of the night show the generosity to accept a gift a gift that can make a difference it’s been set apart for you and only for the blessed you.
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
shape
Anna and I were sitting on an outdoor bench. To get some fresh air, our classes are virtual this week and we were feeling claustrophobic. I was working on a poem idea on my iPad and Anna was uploading an assignment with her computer. The bench is by a walkway and there were a few people passing by. I asked Anna, “What’s an alternative word for paralysis?” And three rando students walking by answer my question, in less time than Anna can even look up from her Mac. “Tetraplegia,” says a girl on the far side of the walk - who passed us right to left - her friends laughed at her for answering my question. “Palsy,” says a guy who was passing the other way, on our side - he didn’t even look up from his phone. And last, a guy behind the girls says, “standstill.” I just look up and smile - I love this place. Everyone’s friendly and collaborative. There’s an almost homogeneous curiosity about the world. “Maybe I should create a sidewalk, crossword-puzzling channel on Twitch?” I ask Anna, who just shakes her head, “No.”
0
Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 10:07 AM UTC
random answers
I can take you to the limit as x tends to infinity as you're the homogeneous solution to my infinitely many equations!
0
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 6:33 PM UTC
Infinity
Gemini 2019 (Cancer) https://youtu.be/xxKJlmVLkKc Cancer homogeneous disease inflaming and incurable, the third heaven, death inevitable catching living tails and tissues, final ending of the young and old. My family, my sister... With backs against the wall, larger than life. Beyond the white star, luminous light, en- closing her life, suffocating her living memory. Why cry and why tear(ing) our hearts out? Cancer our generation, we live on, hoping and praying...
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Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 2:01 AM UTC
Gemini 2019 (Cancer)
As I was climbing the steps, Today after school… I felt a pang of claustrophobia, Despite being outdoors… As I watched the herd of students in uniform, Both in clothing and in conversation… I felt scared. Because I was a part of that herd. One which mindlessly spent its days, Spent, In accordance to the routines of the society, Their personalities among other things. All those kids, In preparation for standardized tests, Had become standardized as well… They were forced to fit a mold, For so long, that they didn’t have to be forced anymore, And it had all happened so quickly, just like the way mold covers food, And it had come to seem so permanent, just like patina covering brass, Hiding the quirks and the character of the statue for all eyes to see, through corrupting it. They had turned fit to false ideals. The stair was full of black coats, As if to make the uniforms even more uniform. And even the rare spring-like winter day, Hadn’t made me want to break the routine that day, To run away into a field (If I could find a field in the concrete jungle, The one that I hadn’t yearned to desert just yet, Though I should’ve made any place my field, anyways.) And to dance & lie among wild flowers, Each one unique and not uniform at all. Even the trees around the stairs looked one and the same, But how could the system curb even, The one thing supposed to be unrestrainable, The uncurbably roaring nature, To bend it in its will against diversity. Just like it had done to us… But then I saw kids playing in the soccer field, Not a field of flowers, but a field nevertheless They did seem to be thinking differently, Their laughs didn’t resemble each other’s So it was growing up which had made us like that, A premature maturity, Which would be premature even at the age of eighty, (If it could even be considered maturity) Which had stripped away our individuality, And had made us a homogeneous flood, sweeping away all identity And I still am a captive of the desperation that had taken a hold of me in that brief glance, I still don’t know what to do, Humanity, help me, Aid me in melting these cages, Through the heat of the stars presents in your minds as well as your hearts, To recover individuality. For I refuse to give up, And to loose myself in the flood
0
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 9:42 AM UTC
Losing myself in the flood
As I was climbing the steps, Today after school… I felt a pang of claustrophobia, Despite being outdoors… As I watched the herd of students in uniform, Both in clothing and in conversation… I felt scared. Because I was a part of that herd. One which mindlessly spent its days, Spent, In accordance to the routines of the society, Their personalities among other things. All those kids, In preparation for standardized tests, Had become standardized as well… They were forced to fit a mold, For so long, that they didn’t have to be forced anymore, And it had all happened so quickly, just like the way mold covers food, And it had come to seem so permanent, just like patina covering brass, Hiding the quirks and the character of the statue for all eyes to see, through corrupting it. They had turned fit to false ideals. The stair was full of black coats, As if to make the uniforms even more uniform. And even the rare spring-like winter day, Hadn’t made me want to break the routine that day, To run away into a field (If I could find a field in the concrete jungle, The one that I hadn’t yearned to desert just yet, Though I should’ve made any place my field, anyways.) And to dance & lie among wild flowers, Each one unique and not uniform at all. Even the trees around the stairs looked one and the same, But how could the system curb even, The one thing supposed to be unrestrainable, The uncurbably roaring nature, To bend it in its will against diversity. Just like it had done to us… But then I saw kids playing in the soccer field, Not a field of flowers, but a field nevertheless They did seem to be thinking differently, Their laughs didn’t resemble each other’s So it was growing up which had made us like that, A premature maturity, Which would be premature even at the age of eighty, (If it could even be considered maturity) Which had stripped away our individuality, And had made us a homogeneous flood, sweeping away all identity And I still am a captive of the desperation that had taken a hold of me in that brief glance, I still don’t know what to do, Humanity, help me, Aid me in melting these cages, Through the heat of the stars presents in your minds as well as your hearts, To recover individuality. For I refuse to give up, And to loose myself in the flood
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55
I know my steps are no more the infinite wisdom of the masses has become the hideout of the scoundrel equality is the mirage of modern times it has deprived of dignity all personality and original thought even to the humble simple tasted elevated soul since modern man entered the idea modern blasphemy of equality nothing but mediocrity flies atop purchasing corpses of the living souls to admire a great man you must first belong to the unique members of humble thought a subtle mechanism of the mind where awe and emotion still exist but no says thee equal man you cannot enter the room first you must (horrible word) decline your taste and bent for exquisite feelings and a sense of beauty force has left the room instead we have complaints and a total lack of confidence in self in adventure and the legitimate claim to own your life suicide has become a crime one of the sikness of deranged mind it is a right I do not belong to this world rather to solitude an american crime Oh evil and murderous incantation in nature we seek solace from the homogeneous man civilised murdering machine my artificiality claims the ultimate prize in decadence and sanctity no more shall the ruins of judgements past will assail me the levelling field and the love of thunder behaviour of evil deeds shall flourish and man standing bent on the greyish mud will perpetually love his trap
0
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 6:43 AM UTC
Hie
Jet propulsion My verbal compulsion An anarchic animation A philanthropic fascination Writing for writings sake But not as fast as my thoughts fall and break A thousand pens, a thousand pages Shining a light through our dark ages At times medieval Our futuristic principle The world today and tomorrow, our cultures, our social status, Thinkers, doers, lovers and haters Our homogeneous habitat, segregated by points of view A world that's not really bothered about the likes of me and you
0
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
a thousand pages
Good morning. Welcome to this holistic Universe of pumpkin spice lattes with "organic" soy milk. In this indisputably beautiful multiplication homogeneous to unidentified living growth, we spawn the dawning of a new era with our own Purple Prose. It's neither here, nor there. Take a step back. Notice It. Smell the ripe air with both Sweat & Smoke. We reciprocate our feelings Of u n s u r e n e s s With a firm handshake And an avoiding eye. Here, we have fabricated the abundance! of our Knowledge, while We can't figure it out. Are We real at all?
0
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
Good Morning
Jealous ants smite by envy creepy crawlers always in dirt brains missing acts on instincts follow the leader and copy the actions bite, bite, crawl away, bite, bite crawl away alone, they are weak and small but in big numbers we can swarm just open those jaws and nip and bite if we needed brains nature would have provided so just bite, bite, crawl away, so bite, bite crawl away small and fragile we are but equal and homogeneous we all look the same, no airs or graces get in line and swarm together for the queen so just bite, bite, crawl away, so bite, bite crawl away we need no education we can climb over brick walls who needs a mind when instincts as good we just follow the leader and march off as we're told so just bite, bite, crawl away, so bite, bite crawl away We can't take it easy with Caramel tastes so good, ideal sweet unsurpassed we'll march from east to west, north and south tirelessly even climbing over each other to get Caramel so just bite, bite, crawl, so bite, bite and crawl back to our holes We, pirates of the underground heartless thieves in nights or at daylight savage, cannibalistics horned by instincts and numbers we want the sweetest and prey on dead and the living too all we know is bite, so just bite, bite and crawl back to our holes
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Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 10:20 PM UTC
So bite and crawl....!
I only like ice in my water Because you cant water it down Things stay the same and the ice will just drown homogeneous mixture A tasteless substance perfect diluteness Be honest to me and Help me get through this is it clear to you now Why I still pursue this
0
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 6:23 PM UTC
important water message
Awake or asleep it doesn’t mean a thing There is an empty space between everything We are carbon copies of cosmic iconography And the dawn plays tricks on our vision Swollen objects appear to arrest our women Until we give them lemon and ginger in their water A hegemony of homogeneous sums Those Suns and daughters quietly shower In the waterfall of their parent's fading laughter
0
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 9:45 PM UTC
real time writing
with at least one of                    A, B, C, D, E not equal to zero. This equation has 15 constants.                                 However, it can                    be multiplied by                                       any non-zero constant without changing              the curve;                                  thus by the choice of an appropriate                  constant of multiplication, any one           of the coefficients                                              can be set           to 1,                      leaving                                                only                   14 constants.                                      Therefore,       the space of quartic curves can be                           identified with the real projective                         space RP14 It also follows,                             from Cramer's          theorem on algebraic curves,                                that there is exactly one quartic curve                                 that passes                        through a set of                  14 distinct points                                 in general                                               position, since a quartic has                               14 degrees of freedom. One may                              also consider             quartic curves over other fields                        (or even rings),           for instance                      the complex                numbers. In this way,                    one gets m                   Riemann                                         surfaces,        which are                                                      one-dimensional objects over C,                             but are two-dimensional over R. An example           is the Klein                        quartic.                                Additionally, one can loo                k at curves in the                 projective                           plane,                 given by                                homogeneous polynomials.
0
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
Ax^4+By^4+Cx^3y+Dx^2y^2+Exy^3+Fx^3+Gy^3+Hx^2y+Ixy^2+Jx^2+Ky^2+Lxy+Mx+Ny+P=0RP14
with at least one of                    A, B, C, D, E not equal to zero. This equation has 15 constants.                                 However, it can                    be multiplied by                                       any non-zero constant without changing              the curve;                                  thus by the choice of an appropriate                  constant of multiplication, any one           of the coefficients                                              can be set           to 1,                      leaving                                                only                   14 constants.                                      Therefore,       the space of quartic curves can be                           identified with the real projective                         space RP14 It also follows,                             from Cramer's          theorem on algebraic curves,                                that there is exactly one quartic curve                                 that passes                        through a set of                  14 distinct points                                 in general                                               position, since a quartic has                               14 degrees of freedom. One may                              also consider             quartic curves over other fields                        (or even rings),           for instance                      the complex                numbers. In this way,                    one gets m                   Riemann                                         surfaces,        which are                                                      one-dimensional objects over C,                             but are two-dimensional over R. An example           is the Klein                        quartic.                                Additionally, one can loo                k at curves in the                 projective                           plane,                 given by                                homogeneous polynomials.
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35
if you could shine the darkness would evacuate but since you're potent you remain homogeneous to the darkness your subtle presence like that of a sickness hidden only till its effects are seen death far too sympathetic for you your personality so evil that transparency turns into opaque that love turns into hatred that wishing upon a shooting star turns into a death wish
0
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 2:28 PM UTC
Toxic.
altered decency positive as provisions dedicated tautologies in stated properties, indicators of philosophic indecency, a plenitude of coins and even sources, a trick of curiosity, means of kinesipathy celebrated homogeneous deemed interests of objects, resources cultivated anew, solid beginnings related to certainty mimic kyriolexy, come puppets, committed to odd logic and erroneous ideas, a spacial cases of opponents' rage unabated and unrestricted, never matched never occasioned, external perfection, pleasure, frustrated hopes, a lack of evidence contributes to predicaments, positive chances of infernal balance, concordant with sardonic desires, kaleidoscopes rarefying ****** opportunistic disputes
0
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 6:28 AM UTC
altered decency positive as provisions dedicated (DRAFT)
Upward drift in the quiet space Things falling into place for once What is the capital of your heart let's travel it Backstreet mouthwash cobblestone wordlocks Sterile wipes on your cut hands Find me out in the rotten Hyacinth Wash me clean of the metaphors of understanding I'm a child in the darkness crying out Ripped from the womb with no say in the matter Cold blank homogeneous liquid Dampness constricted and concentrated Four square corner games in crevices Ceviche on salty chips in the backroom The gloom you feel post coitus Unravel the pieces of seed pod thoughts Untravel every destination post-partum Under the bridge drug overdose martyrdom The forest is burning all around us                       DRIVE FASTER
0
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 10:59 PM UTC
Spheniscidae