"theorems" poems
A catalyst is a chemical that speeds up reactions.
At least that’s what I learned in chemistry class.
Catalysts sometimes are the major factors in a reactions and without them,
The reaction could never happen.
Catalyst can be lab chemicals,
alcohol,
drugs,
coffee even,
or a person.
While lounging around one afternoon you were talking physics
And I turned it on your head and spoke of chemistry,
Knowing full well that I was speaking of our personal chemistries.
You were right, the physics of a relationship gives us the laws,
But CHEMISTRY can predict the outcome.
If you do the math and follow the directions,
you can determine the product without even doing the experiment.
Unless the reaction you are creating has never been attempted before by the scientists preforming the experiment.
They can flip through the books,
Read the essays,
Study the theorems,
Even attempt the calculations,
But if they don’t do the actual experiment,
They will never find their outcome.
Some things need a push,
A catalyst,
For them to form a bond,
React,
And combine into a stable combination.
Hypotheses must be TESTED, ACCEPTED, and RATIFIED
Before becoming a law.
No matter how based in logic your hypothesis might be,
You need the universe and its fundamental laws to back it up.
There are still surprises left in the universe.
Maybe you and I can be one of them.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
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.
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 12:20 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
we lay together, 6:00am, body warmth touch-sharing,
as the June morning summer chill coming off its night nadir coolness
surrenders very reluctantly,
full length pajamas, blankets and coverlets in use,
keeping cold out while bodies touching generate heat -
a big difference
through these layers of cotton controversy, my right arm,
my cunning, falls awkwardly upon her, advising I am woken
and aware she is as well, hear her earbuds emplaced, make shushed
whispering noises re the future of artificial intelligence
and other such mental knottings
my awkward angled arm rests on her landscaped outline of shape,
coming to rest where legs meet at the top of an upside down V spot,
which makes no request, but accepts my bequest of steady
stroking of her ****** as an unnecessary
but atheist-acceptable to her
morning prayer ritual, kept at the intersection of the
physical and physics theorems
funny how some prayers,
where recitation comes thoughtlessly and routine,
uttered without any contemplation are yet
deep comforting for their inherency,
so I pray a stroking repetitive on her body,
well hid neath a summer coverlet,
wordlessly chanted, wordlessly accepted, silence connoting approving permission
I comfort her,
above and through a floral coverlet for her floral coverlet,
till the sun rises enough to truly warm up our plot,
my praying reaches the end of its rope,
where quality and quantity achieve unanimity resolution
no longer needed,
but am appreciated, besides my arm is cramping,
not designed for the rising, unleveled angle of her breathing bodice
my comfort is her extra comforter,
an offering of coffee my reward,
for my daily work has begun,
and I have many more poems stillborn
that require coaxing stroking
to become
witnesses to living
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 7:32 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
My edges have no border
I seep & blotch the air
My thoughts a chaotic disorder
Laughing in silent despair
Who am I?
I’m the colorful mix
Of the pills I take at night
Grappling at the latest “fix”
But I never get the dosage right
So broken I shall stay
To listen but not to obey
I’m the perfect daughter
I know I ought to be
Smiling sequined next to my father
A beautiful sight to see
Painted fingertips, quiet lips
But I’m slipping from sexist grips
I’m the crash of atoms & molecules
The patterned DNA that labels our culture
Theorems, functions, evolutionary tools
Poe knew: Science is a “vulture
Whose wings are dull realities”
Fact blinds what my mind sees
Forgive me I’m singing
Of what I am & cannot be
& My ears are still ringing
With who society has asked me to be
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
I'll have my heart in a gift box wrapped in see-through,
embellished with flowers, dedicated to you.
I'll spread a smear of glitter on it, maybe a little gold too,
so it doesn't seem so bitter, so overdue.
I hope it's vivacious; if it was pumping still,
and with prudent words you would overkill.
Its liveliness--once, now long forgotten--will decay in your palms.
Daffodils and daisies will melt into your hands, betraying all qualms.
Being the human that I am, obliged me to always seek knowledge.
I loved everything. Everything was a wreckage.
The fact that humans can cause this much damage enlightened me,
yet the thought of persuing self-destruction further could never set me free.
I was distraught till I was numb to the bones,
paralyzed on the cold tiles, silencing my own moans,
because what future awaits those who are namely the sick-minded,
the delusional, the know-it-all, the blindsided?
For spectators like us, we set everything into action,
to those who are less fortunate; the earth is flattened.
Their ideas, their meticulous theorems and allegories would all be dispersed,
by those who ignited the fire from the beginning. By the universe. By us.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Science is governed by theorems and laws, but I think its more important to learn, live, and love from nature’s flaws. Ideal reactions exist on paper created by pencils, but really its nothing more than a flawed man’s stencil. Something unable to exist in freeform untempered by the creative storm and unblemished by the perfect mistakes that prove its not fake. Thats not of what I partake.
You make my world spin and keep my gravity down. It’s just the physics of our situation, is this our mind or the worlds creation? Einstein was the founder of relativity but I’m sure of our brevity. A whirlwind thats almost out of control, the dance of days that composes our souls. Linked rhythmically together no longer singularly apart joined at the heart never to depart and so we start. I’m not sure how this equation functions but its a positive conjunction. I want to linearly progress without regress never to suppress or obsess but to travel and caress but I digress with my interest to express.
I haven’t done the math but I’m almost positive one heart plus one heart equals one heart. Thats real arithmetic, a force surely kinetic. Attracted and reacted to form a singular product of an environment construct. You make my world spin and keep my gravity down. It’s just the physics of our situation.
Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 10:19 PM UTC
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
First of these eight categories is math.
From axioms to logic it takes a very exact path.
Deals with conjecture and theorems; creating laws about the world.
Sometimes this complicated topic makes me want to hurl.
Next comes ethics with many complicated questions,
Using morals and values to give the proper suggestion.
Depends on people's views that differ by culture,
Questions from "Theft to save your family?" to "Killing a vulture?"
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Up comes history dealing only with the past;
It is only concerned with evidence and the facts.
Studies government propaganda to the plight of the peasant.
Deals with any kind of knowledge from creation to the present.
Fourth on the list are the human sciences,
From many loaded questions to our stream of consciousness.
Observations to conclusions, free will to determinism,
Deals with our knowledge of the world from the atom to reductionist
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Religious knowledge systems deal with people's beliefs;
Knowledge of God and the heavens to the world beneath.
From polytheism in Athens to life after death,
Knowledge coming from religion concerns us to our last breath.
The natural sciences, knowledge of the natural world,
Explaining how things work like biceps d'ring a curl.
Hypothesis, theories and all sorts of paradigms,
Knowledge so revolutionary that in the past it was a crime.
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Indigenous knowledge systems, the customs of the tribe,
Using folklore and storytelling to spread ancestor's pride.
Knowledge or tradition and customs of the ancient nomads,
Anything about the indigenous from the good to the bad.
Last on the list, the final area of knowledge,
Is the arts, all the way from elementary to college.
Dealing with aesthetics, forgery, kitsch and catharsis;
Without this types of knowledge we'd be stuck in the darkness.
Areas of knowledge answer: How do we know?
Looking for the origins of our knowledge flow.
From mathematics to the ethics,
History to the arts,
These are the ways we tell types of knowledge apart.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Push false math theorems between slices of white bread.
Shove it down my throat.
When I choke,
refuse to perform the Heimlich.
Open up my insides.
Force the twisted logic through my intestines
like a broken machine.
Sew my mouth shut so I can't throw it up.
Carve the periodic table into my arms
with your sharpened Swiss army knife.
Smile while my skin is replaced
with ****** atomic numbers.
Saw my fingers off
so I can't use them to cover the halogens.
Glue my eyelashes to my eyebrows so my eyes can't close.
Color my irises black with permanent marker:
just like yours.
Force me to see the way you do.
Tear from my mind every original thought.
Shout at my dreams until they run away in fear.
Vacuum my favorite memories out through my ears.
Fit the remaining contents of my brain into your incorrect physics equation.
Extract my heart from my rib cage with kitchen tongs.
Watch my skin go pale.
Watch my eyes go still.
Tell my empty body it's for the best.
Tell this shadow of my soul that you love it.
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
She's an emigre,
From the Old Country
Her side of the bed,
To a new continent,
My rising and falling chest.
With every breath,,
An oath of allegiance pledged.
This continent,
On the Planet Bed,
In the Galaxy, Our Apartment,
A speck, a neutron,
In the Universe of My Mind
Her action, precipitates a chain reaction,
And the atoms rearranged, present themselves
As first poem of the day.
Tho time doesn't exist in this space,
Einstein's theorems irrelevant, passé,
Nonetheless, a passing-by comet,
To its tail, an airplane banner affixed,
for the beach blatherers,
To read:
*Son, you're late for work,
Time for you too,
To emigrate.**
~~~~~~~~~~~
In a taxi
7:12 AM
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
A Division of Mathematics
Adding great value to it
Multiplying its applications
Reducing laborious means
Going on logical steps
Riding on its riders
Gliding on its theorems
Solving hitches and glitches
Assuming things as “x”
Applying rational methods
Adopting sequential steps
Solving problems complex
Starting with assumption
Running through derivation
Following brilliant notion
Deciphering through perception
Grand in concepts
Grand in derivations
Grand in suppositions
Resolving problems in a grand manner
Mother of mathematics
Mother of logics
Cracking all mysteries
By initializing things as “x”
Assuming God as “x”
Following tenets and commandments
Living life on virtues and truth
Surely shall we know what “x” is
And what “I” am and what “V” (we) are
And surely shall we know that
X=I=V is Life’s Algebra.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are sound
Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how crazy we would
Be without it
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:41 AM UTC
Like all others, I hated high school.
It was a scrawny waif that I remember seated at the front of the class.
I raised my hand at every question to endless ridicule,
and people whispered I was weak for trying to be "such a ********
Now people think I lack brains because I own a barbell and bench.
What they don't know is that it's all an extension of my first love: Science.
Every morning, I don my hooded polyester lab coat.
I write theorems in drops of sweat on a rubber padded mat.
I experiment with the practicality of the theorems I wrote;
I know my hypothesis is correct when veins bulge and muscles catch.
Breathing shallow, in ragged determined gasps of air,
I put my theory to the test. Veins bulge, muscles strain.
There is no joy like the joy I know when I find my theory correct. I call it
The Warrior Poet Principle: One can in fact have brawn as well as brain.
I've accomplished the task I set myself in high school's lonely halls,
I vowed that I'd never be that weak waif again.
Hiding bruises from pimple faced tyrants who had me by my *****
I persevered, and I grew my thews and thesis in twain.
Now by neither tyrant nor textbook will I ever be chained.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
This is like Schrodingers cat.
The trees bend and sway to impossible feats, but the moment I notice them, they stop.
What an amazing world we live in that is able to produce such absurd and seemingly unrealistic mechanics.
Oh what a day in the life of a quantum physicist must feel like.
Does he experience life the same as I, the "artist," based solely on creative expression and abstraction, or does he live in a purely mathematical realm where theorems and equations are the only facet of creation and intelligence?
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 11:49 PM UTC
For we're only
accepting and depending
different theorems in life.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 5:17 AM UTC
I wish to study every point on your surface area
Let me rationally master your geometry
You prove your own stated theorems
And I love you like the salt loves the sea.
Our equation has no solution
No particular angle of elevation
Lost in all those likely probabilities
Your place in my heart has no substitution.
Your graph work and figures make no sense
Before the volume of love in my heart
You are as confusing as Algebra can get
And I tried ever so hard.
Your imaginary roots and relations,
Beautifully intersecting truth and lies
Your complex imperfections I adore
Pain from within fills my eyes.
I must admit that I never understood why
We were never collinear or side by side
The distance between you and me is parallel
I know, but I don't know why.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
I wanted to know what was real knowledge,
so I went to the wisest master, God,
Not to learn things of school or college,
But to go where no foot has ever trod.
.
God said," I know what you seek, child,
But if real knowledge is what you wish to gain,
You venture into mountains dark and prairies wild,
And go through joyful hurt and honoring pain."
.
I was ready to put up resistance,
Said God," To men you shall speak,
Who are the wisest of this existence,
And at the end you shall get what you seek."
.
And so I went to the Physicists,
On whose principles this world exists,
They asked, “Pascal’s law, Bulk modulus, Doppler effect, can you tell?"
I said," No sir, but like Newton, even I wondered why the apple fell."
"Sacrilege!" they said," You inelastic plastic, may your soul rest in hell."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Then I went to the scholars of Chemistry,
Who are the wisest in mankind's History,
They asked me," What about Dalton's law, KTG, inorganic Benzene, can you say?"
"Nothing, sir, but I wonder about molecules and atoms, night and day!"
"Sacrilege!" they said, " You miserable molecule, May in hell your grave lay."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Then I went to the supreme Mathematicians,
Whom I consider as God's own magicians,
They asked me," What on methods of solving DEs, LMVT, can you speak?"
"Nothing, sir, but I work on theorems of Euler, the mathematician Greek."
"Sacrilege!" they said," You rootless equation, may you end up in the Devil's steak."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Indeed, I felt sorry for their and the future generations' plight,
But at the end of the road, I realized God was right,
It’s not about knowing Pascal's, Dalton's or Euler's shouts,
Its knowing how to live life to your fullest, every time you breathe in and breathe out.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
i am a man of science—
something like that.
i was never one to put things up to faith or religion; no, i am a firm believer of all things formulated out of reason;
until you came along,
with galaxies in your eyes and star dust in your hair; (when i kiss you, i swear i see supernovas)
and who do you think you are, anyway?
to come barging in to my perfectly explained universe and re-arranging all my theorems,
to come waltzing into rooms, acutely unaware of how you send every ***** of mine in to overdrive;
dilated pupils, and an increased heartbeat, and a spike in some hormones, and a light going off somewhere in my brain— (diagnosis: love)
i despise the effect you have on me,
the churn in my stomach to have you smile at me, the thrill to hold your hand, the constant train of thoughts about you that has muddled the part of my head that can explain all this in a more scholar-ly way.
but no. all that i knew could not explain what i felt for you;
no, you had me denying newton's laws of motion— with every action there is an equal and opposite reaction— (you had me hoping my love would recieve, instead, an equal and similar reaction)
no, you were not just a lump of atoms born in to this world for the mere purpose of recreation and, inevitably, death— (to me, you are much more than a scientific construct)
no, all the chemicals boiled down in to nothingness and all the formulas were void of their values and all the terms were mere jargons that could not help me fully comprehend
why you are warmer than sunshine;
why you could take away the oxygen in my lungs faster than anything else;
why the planets seem to align in order to keep you here;
why gravity does not exist in the spaces you occupy;
why distance is my enemy;
and why i am in a love-hate relationship with the rotation of our earth (it depends on when i can see you again);
it was suddenly not just physics, or astronomy, or biology, or chemistry
when you came along.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
“Hold me in your arms”
You scream at me from those powder blue eyes.
But I can’t look at you,
I’m too scared to acknowledge your obviousness
In this subtle world closing ‘round us three.
Mankind only began with Adam and Eve,
There was no Johnny.
Yet the apples, in our world, are almost ripe
And for the picking.
And it was only ever going to be Eve who’d take the first bite,
Even if Adam and Johnny both ignored what they both knew it meant,
Sending their world crashing among rolls of thunder
And daggers of lightning
Leaving just two and one out in the cold.
In spite
You could never make right, only wrong
In a world you never wanted
To leave
Life’s unsolved theorems
alone.
We all heard you on the ‘phone to your Father,
Reassuring him it’s everything’s ok,
Even if the world he gave you is not how he planned;
That everyone makes mistakes.
And maybe that’s why Eve bit into that apple,
So she could get out of this world and into another.
Or maybe it’s because even rolls of thunder and lightning are comforting,
When your holed up inside and can’t get out.
Knowing your safe from secret thoughts,
Seen only through windows of weakness.
Or maybe it should be taken for face value
And Eve only wanted the apple
Because as she said,
It was juicy and tender
And it was too hot
To turn down.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 2:43 PM UTC
Bedazzled Dreamer
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are sound
Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how crazy we would
Be without it
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 10:40 AM UTC
A systematic endeavor, fevered by a passion.
Each problem, an expedition, an exaction
Of effort, time and will
In the search for knowledge - an unimaginable thrill
Newton’s discovery, my continuation:
Formulaic substance for every situation.
Seeking an answer, no approximation;
Making up for lackluster information.
We derive and we discover
One approach to solve another
Number lines, number theory,
Partial fractions and Taylor Series’.
Natural patterns give inspiration
To new problem sets and exhortation
Of genius minds globally impressed
Continuously working, forgetting rest.
Limited by time, we take shortcuts
Setting functions is a must.
e, theta, sigma, pi
delta, lambda, (m)u and phi.
Theorems and laws aid in the discovery
Of problems unsolved, answers a mystery.
New methods used almost “unpredictably”
As thought by leighmen, to scientists quite reasonably.
Forgetting what was once thought
Simply observing what is taught.
The applications of arithmetic
Endless, when you sit with it.
From counting up a child’s toys
To describing the bounds of ellipsoids.
A vital piece of money supply
It gives us reason for color of the sky.
Stretching our minds to surmise infinity
Hoping not to lose our sanity
Consciously peering into the depths of life
Our battle for survival, an endless strife
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
I wonder if the answer is in the formulas and theorems that the world has held since the beginning of time
If the limit approaches Gods thrown on high
The limit does not exist for His love of man kind
And I've wondered how deep the oceans are,
does it have any correlation to the peace in Your heart?
Divers found coral 10,000 years old,
That's only a fraction of the value for the love you have for me, I'm told
And speaking of value, if I could continue,
Thank you for her kindness
And my mothers strength
And my brothers keen mind
I've wondered what it's like to clay and craft
And how You could create so much beauty
In each and every person, from first to last,
They say you're the first and the last,
And God I never stopped wondering,
How you knew the moment that I would choose to be my last,
And why you chose to save my life when you knew I had no interest in making you my master
And why the years have gotten better but now time only goes faster and faster
When the sparkle and gleam fades from my eyes
Because my neurons don't fire quite right
And my burdens have taken their toll,
Remember I wouldn't walk so heavy if my head wasn't a fight
And my father left a permanent scar on my heart
I know he didn't mean it but he tore our family apart
God, did you know this would all happen from the very start?
My favorite lines for 8 years have been What can I do? How can I help?
But now it's just, How do I play this part?
Love me gentle love me kind
Love me love me make me remember
Love me love me make me pure of mind
My psychiatrist told me when I was 11 years old my serotonin levels were too low
Okay, I understand my neurons don't fire quite right
I'll take my medicine. I know, I'll be alright,
But then doctor why am I kept up at night?
Why do I explode and turn everything into a fight?
Why can't I see clearly or do what is right?
Will you help me to see
Help me to be me
My strength doesn't run endlessly
Oh God, help me to be
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
No high school sophomore ever grew up without
A naked lady plastic ballpoint pen -
Those furtive giggles in geometry class
Are not about theorems all risqué
After the FFA trip to the rodeo
Or the band trip to sunny Galveston
A pretty lady with a 1940s do
Loses her swimsuit over and over again
Upend the pen, and she's nekkid in the sun -
Whoever thought writing could be such fun!
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 5:43 PM UTC