"orthogonal" poems
Mystery girl, let me make an ansatz about you:
You are like an anti-gravity wave -
the farther I go, the more I pine for you.
Some kind of growing exponent:
yes, you are the solution I ignore in my
quotidian root-finding mission;
Ah, the annihilation, those killer eyes!
Now I see, we inhabit orthogonal planes.
Your uv, to my uw, you are IR to my ivy.
Wonder-woman, let me make an ansatz about you:
You are elegance. Ripple-play at pebbles,
those dimpled cheeks.
Deliciously symmetric. Alpha 180, no Beta
at all - well not Cartesian.
Guess it's subterranean, Artesian,
in the k-space, transform domain,
my mind-space, where, girl,
you are a wonder of beauty and grace.
Magicienne, let me make an Ansatz about you:
You are the particle for Love waves. A lovelet.
Dressed in that kaftan when you walk in,
I will sublimate. Ether-maker, you solve
the Hamiltonian, I see now how matter's made.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
The first moment
Was divided by the total mass
The center of..
The moment of inertia
Rigid in body
How much more torque
Will turn this rotations
Secondary
In a moment
Notice the rotational axis
Of the earths fastest acceleration
Mass times the square
Of the perpendicular distance
To the rotation of our sphere
Can anyone else hear
Could anyone else here
Understand the scalar magnitude
Of a poets Newtonian mechanics
And the motion of macroscopic objects
Circling his metaphors
If the present state of an object is known
It is possible to predict by the laws
Of classical mechanics
How it will move
The spherical harmonics
Are a set of orthogonal functions
Yet periodic functions composed of sinusoids
Is the assumption of weighted summation
Discrete time fourier transformation
In relation to a quills synthesizing rotation
Is the explanation I'm trying to relate in
What do you think I'm saying
Need I explore the atomic orbital electron configurations
Their representation of gravitational fields geoids
Fiber reconstruction for estimation
of the path and location
Of a poems explanation
For the spin of its formation
Is just a calculation
Differing in interpretation
By the readers relation
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 12:19 AM UTC
you say it's not about the ***
but the declaration does nothing
to ***** the boiling terror
to shoo away that yawning hole
digging deeper and deeper
into the root system of my ribs
tilling the lush soil that is
my traitorous stomach
and ever shrinking lungs
it uproots me
grinds the stump where I once stood
a towering oak
or was I only ever a sapling
that was snapped in half
severed the exact moment
that the floodgates opened
and the raging storms remnants
poured forth unshackled by the walls
I carefully constructed around my trembling heart
how I screamed when they fell
the resounding crash
of my fingers digging into your back
pulling you closer
and closer
I can't stop wanting you closer
to inhabit that feeling
the safety of a harbor in a storm
you somehow can protect me
from the radioactive wasteland
that I am still traversing
dodging gamma rays of manic frenzy
and alpha particles heavy with the
black hole that swears it will consume all of me
its final sacrifice demanded my life
how can I trust this?
when the reality of the matter is
you are no lead apron
absorbing the radiation for me
some kevlar vest that can ever protect me
from the bullets of vitriolic bile I hurl inward
not to mention grenades thrown my way
by wayward neural firings
which find me craving my blood
a box of razors is
a box of friends
and reality diverges into an orthogonal plane.
you could be snatched from me
you are a small worm on
the biggest hook to make the juiciest
most succulent amuse bouche
for a big world of sharks
how ******* stupid am I
to be a fisherwoman who has
fallen in love with her bait?
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
From labyrinth in Istanbul, my eye spied a familiar cord
Education
How can any education
Be a sufficient insurance
For a pathetic population
Keeps favoring ignorance
From <https://hellopoetry.com/>
Truth known makes free,
truth hid is not ignored,
it waits the fire the next time innocents
are sacrificed to lies. ... thanks, you gave me a spark,
as real as any angel a self anoints another, go
be a lying spirit in the mouth of the tyrant's prophets,
let all the wise
laugh at the possibility of one peacemaker's leaven,
leavening the entire lump, liked or not.
Plop. On to the publisher's desk, piles of wonder and ifity.
A fantasy realm,
counter trope, here the so-called victor-victim ratio,
is imperceptibly low,
we have a regulation: each day requires
its sufficiency of evil,
no harm done is intentionally not possible,
otherwise you get a dimension of flat metric orthogonal
constructive critics
assuming unassigned roles. Do you dance? Or only read along?
Behold how great a fire words may kindle in a satisfied mind.
Feb 14, 2021
Feb 14, 2021 at 5:27 PM UTC
My powers halved,
I am laid by four walls -
orthogonal gods linguini
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:23 PM UTC
him, a tiny
catastrophe,
speeding into the void coy.
easily disposable. the paper
head can only fold
so many times.
yet mind
the liminal and
you too
can heal.
— yes,
even you.
this
thought
came
with a routine flat gaze
through smudge on the window
on a train. it arose
crouching
orthogonal, from
one space where
felt helicals hold
the pause of holy.
he knows
this place
not well.
he feels
inadequate
to the task.
like it’s too late.
like he is an idiot.
like his time is up.
each of
his small rooms
that make him
him is
coated with a
light film of whetted necrosis,
the sharp dust, to come.
but at the epicenter
of each sits
an old woman with
braided hair blacksilverwhite down
to her knees, speaking
looping words which, upon
hitting stolid air of
pyramidal hymn, manifest
sound images in three directions:
of those horrors to come
that, if not
taken at a glance,
annihilate;
of wobbly peace
and tranquil eddy
‘round-the-rock
that heal, all in all;
of fretted final causes
where arrow of our earth-shot
finally ends up. and
upon her forhead
writ in the ledger
of four parallel
wrinkles were:
tremulous
is the inside,
keep a rattle
close by, seeker
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Some say the Singularity comes in '45
some, not the name of a movie made;
Einsteins can sing till kingdom come, but
why there should be one, some can't fathom!
But for me, this is real,
every when you walk past then,
my heart rate's on Richter scale,
Singular girl, on orthogonal lane!
There must be those spaces
called Calibi-Yau, or I get and gone how?
Hidden dimensions that don't exist
except in those, your dimpled frowns?
I know now, our branes don't meet,
but while you want to differentiate
and love that done partially more,
at the horizon, calculus is mess!
Gravity girl, don't make me loop
this quantum dude, let it emerge,
the whole thing, all am asking
is for a meeting!
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 3:11 PM UTC
the goddess opens
her arms...
a Mother's
many givings.
drafting handfuls.
here, here, here--
(nadis)
orthogonal lines.
three dimensional
mainlines to mercy.
with
love deeper than a
vanishing point.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
Sometimes we must move
Not shallow gym class work-mimicry
Empty choreography
Planned, timed, synchronised
Movement the purpose, fitness the goal
or health, or presentation
Important, worthy, needed
and yet, a slight, simplistic facsimile
of really moving
Sometimes we must move
Not gentle-stroll-incidental, ancillary activity
Perfect temperature
Sweat-less, shiver-less, comfortable
Sunshine the purpose, restoration the goal
or biophilia, or head-clearing
Cleansing, uplifting, lovely
and yet, orthogonal to the experience
of really moving
Sometimes we must move
For more than moving’s sake
Sincere reverberations
Changing, morphing, building
Action the purpose, elevation the goal
or processing, or releasing
Cathartic, detoxing, rejuvenating
in a way that leaves our world
different than before
we moved
When danger seems a looming steady state
Embrace the energy to scream and run
and channel into moving through the fear
Transmute to new found strength to persevere
To body-work at peak ‘til job is done
To push and pull, to dig, haul up, and scrub
Yield recompense for sweat and pulsing nerves
The world a little better than before
Clearer, cleaner, cared for, kept, and more
And you all terror-spent and panic-purged
Nov 18, 2024
Nov 18, 2024 at 2:34 AM UTC
The sun-baked bayou rots in sun-dried tomato heat
This is not a traditional geometric form
No cube, no circle, this shouldn’t be possible
The swamp’s stink lines blur with the waving heat of the pavement
Fresh out the oven
Flattops from the flatlands
Flamingos from the herons
Is Gaea up on new trends?
Wetlands are out we’ve got shiny new sewers
Glistening, gleaming, glowing with 4 star reviews
The development company’s shade trees are still saplings
Shade! Coming here in 15 to 20 years! Mark your calendars
I got the fast pass for the highway so I can look for parking quicker
I heard there’s parking lot with a million spots
My kids’ eyes widen in wonder, Really Daddy?
I nod with a knowing smile, thinking
Wait till they learn about Cyber Monday
Orthogonal forms dominate here
I wonder if herons wake up early for Black Friday?
Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 12:28 AM UTC