Japanese Jabberwocky
Jabberworky, Jabberworky tale
lone night walk on Onitaka
(tall ghost in Japanese)
Shimousa Nakayama, Chibaken
back to the haunted house
- we did not know until told -
where we lived with them
for two quiet years - japanese
jabberworky ghosts - an old man and woman -
penniless - killing themselves
and we were sleeping on where
they had laid, as they bade
the world goodbye, cold like stones,
but did they leave, fly away, jabberworkies?
they were there. the two who kept the days
in numbers, who even foretold my life -
two lives which had ended - or did they? -
telling the living how his life would be?
what a Jabberworky dream it was?
stretching their hands and fingers
into my life - but then how accurate they were -
-i wouldnt amount to much....almost a stamp,
their words turn out to be after 30 years
japanese jabberworkies using numbers
to get to the nitty gritty of my life
and how good their prediction was!
two hair raising japanese jabberworkies
how easy they had worked to tell this
fragile poet he would not have
the numbers to boast about and they had
surely meant the savings account -
japan where when you have no money
your legs and feet cannot take you anywhere
even two jabberworkies who had gone away
from the world were still caught up with
figures - the all important notes and yen
the two jabberworkies - they were discovered
when they were rotting, hadnt eaten for
days. Jabberworkies they were,
numerologist of the excellent kind....
a table like the one you do your word puzzle
only that they have more squares, and each
with a number, criss crossing
numbers, an ocean of life pinned down
to its very penny's worth
the very art that could have seen the
jabberworkies through the cold damp winter
but then perhaps they too had unravelled
the secrets, seen the figures that told
them where they would be here, now and then?
jabberworky ghosts walk the lane of the mind
haunting every inch of the real world
heavy the air became after the secret
about them was given us - the Japanese woman who
always came over to borrow money - could not hold
her tongue anymore - and everything in the house
suddenly became cold - like corpses - so that
even taking a shower was done in seconds
with the hair raising....despite the water
Jabberworkies - the two knew me to the bones,
yesterday, today, the next 50 years
unperturbed of the world of light, seen and unseen
they shared with me the art of seeing the future,
numbers in a puzzletable so easily forgotten
after we woke up to the world
where real numbers matter
jabberworky ghosts...they have been
wandering penniless, meritless...
wishing somebody would come
to their needs, sharing their prayers,
affording them a better realm where they would
not be bothered by figures, yen or yuan, anymore
jabberworkies..all those hotel rooms
where they walk on lonely dinghy verandahs,
corridors, disturbing our souls, straying
into our path in the dead of nights
for some warmth they could not never have
jabberworkies..the way out of their
claws...is to have your deities sleep
with you, ..jabberworkies...i prayed
for some of them...giving them merits
jabberworky children tales, jabberworky.
jabberworky, a bird flies into the house
at midnight, pays homage to the crsytal buddha
and flies out so steadily as if it has imbued
full confidence of a fine reincarnation...
no more jabberowrky, jabberworky...
and yeh i am looking to the next Japan trip
were i would go visit ghost to see if
the jabberworky numerologists are still there
after 30 years, using numbers to help
new tenants see their own lives
- japan where you dont have the figures
in your savings, you would be better off
as two ghosts wanderiing helplessly in
a house seeking to figure out the world - for us
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
Figures Don't Lie (edited)
you must understand that what costs
us sleepless nights
and these ugly eye-bags are not
really the words, but the
numbers,
yes the numbers those digits
those symbols
they are the least common
denominators
and numbers are figures and figures
as you must have been briefed by the famous adage department
figures do not lie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Figures Don't Lie...
you must understand that what costs
us sleepless nights
and these ugly eye-bugs are not
really the words, but the
numbers,
yes the numbers those digits
those symbols
they are the least common
denominators
and numbers are figures and figures
as you must have been brief by the famous adage
do not lie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Numerical Tyranny
Who conspired
this needless need for
the numbers?
Now we all live in fear of
the numbers
tremble at the feet of
the numbers
live our lives according to the demands of
the numbers
Identify ourselves by
the numbers
we've sold ourselves short with
the numbers
locked ourselves in a cell with
the numbers
no one believes they can escape
the numbers
our status our worth
our health our happiness
all dictated by
the numbers
Who are you?
Are you just another
number?
For if only we could see the truth behind
the numbers:
the truth being
there is only one number
that number is one
and that one stretches on
through infinitude.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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A Poem in Maths
Count your blessings, God-given;
Add them one by one, each day;
Subtract your pessimism;
Divide time for all your works;
Multiply your joys in life;
Get success in earthly stay,
By praying to the Lord.
Numbers are infinitesimal;
Numbers are so magical;
Numbers can have decimal;
Numbers rule the modern world.
Numbers are abstract / real;
Numbers can amuse us all;
Numbers are the ‘bricks’ of Maths!
Numberless, world is dismal.
They can count your hair, these days;
They can count the stars, some ways;
Man’s progression in Maths is base,
For putting man on Moon, or Mars?
Numbers make computers work;
Hypotheses form the science;
Integers are wonders too;
A genius in mathematics
Is a MATHEMAGICIAN!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-22-2007
poem by John Celes
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When Numbers Get Serious
I have a number in my head
Though I dont know why its there
When numbers get serious
You see their shape everywhere
Dividing and multiplying
Exchanging with ease
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers are easy to please
Take my address
Take my phone
Call me if you can
Heres my address
Heres my phone
Please dont give it to some madman
Hey hey, whoa whoa
Complicated life
Numbers swirling thick and curious
You can cut them with a knife
You can cut them with a knife
Two times two is twenty-two
Four times four is forty-four
When numbers get serious
They leave a mark on your door
Urgent. urgent.
A telephone is ringing in the hallways
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers will speak to us always
That is why a man with numbers
Can put your mind at ease
Weve got numbers by the trillions
Here and overseas
Hey hey, whoa whoa
Look at the stink about japan
All those numbers waiting patiently
Dont you understand?
Dont you understand?
So wrap me
Wrap me
Wrap me do
In the shelter of your arms
I am ever your volunteer
I wont do you any harm
I will love innumerably
You can count on my word
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers
Will always be heard
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers will always be heard
And after all is said and done
And the numbers all come home
The four rolls into three
The three turns into two
And the two becomes a
One
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magic of Numbers
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
I was twenty-six, and you were twenty-two.
The Magic of Numbers—2
You asked me if I wanted to run, but I said no and walked on.
I was nineteen, and you were seven.
The Magic of Numbers—3
Yes, but does X really like us?
We were both twenty-seven.
The Magic of Numbers—4
You look like Jerry Lewis (1950).
The Magic of Numbers—5
Grandfather and grandmother want you to go over to their house for dinner.
They were sixty-nine, and I was two and a half.
The Magic of Numbers—6
One day when I was twenty-nine years old I met you and nothing happened.
The Magic of Numbers—7
No, of course it wasn’t I who came to the library!
Brown eyes, flushed cheeks, brown hair. I was twenty-nine, and you were sixteen.
The Magic of Numbers—8
After we made love one night in Rockport I went outside and kissed the road
I felt so carried away. I was twenty-three, and you were nineteen.
The Magic of Numbers—9
I was twenty-nine, and so were you. We had a very passionate time.
Everything I read turned into a story about you and me, and everything I did was turned into a poem.
“The Magic of Numbers” from The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 2006 by Kenneth Koch.
poem by Kenneth Koch
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Zero Covers All
Lately I realize.
I am a numb number,
living through life.
First child.
Date of birth.
Sixth star of twenty-seven.
Scorpio numbers six of twelve.
Studied tenth class,
Then 5-year’s graduation,
Every class I had a scroll number.
Exams written on id number.
Studied law.
Head churning three years,
with numbered sections.
Penal code, constitution.
Clauses of law in numbered sects.
Registered in bar council.
Legal practice.
Case files are numbered.
Subsequently I got,
House number, door number.
Phone number.
Mobile number.
Account numbers.
Credit card number.
Pan card number,
Folio numbers,
Car number,
License number,
Policy number,
Health card number,
Election card number,
Passport number,
Ration card number,
Ultimately, when you put me in morgue,
allotted me a number.
Which, I do no know.
However, I know a number.
I am a big zero.
It covers all my life
Yes, we discovered zero.
What a relief?
Does it not cover all?
fulfill all values!
By the way your number please?
X number or N number?
Infinite numbers.
________________
poem by Satheesan Rangorath
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Surprise in Japan - The woman next door
a japanese woman
becomes our friend
then asks to borrow money
our apartment
an old couple before us
took their own lives
We were really surprised by a middle age Japanese woman who came over to borrow money from us, students. Though Japan is an economic power, life is not so rosy as thought to be as the cost of living is extemely high. Most people in Tokyo cannot afford to own their houses. An old couple who lived in our apartment earlier committed suicide because of financial woes.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Rhythm Nation
with music by our side
to break the color lines
let's work together
to improve our way of life
join voices in protest
to social injustice
ageneration full of courage
come forth with me
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right(sing it)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
this is the test
no struggle no progress
lend a hand to help
your brother do his best
thinds are getting worse
we have to make them better
it's time to give a damn
let's work together...come on...
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation(people)
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right(sing it)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing it)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
say it people
say it to me
say it to me if you want a better way of life
say it people
say it to me
say it to me if you want a better way of life
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world today
are we lookink for a better way of life(sing)
we are a part of the rhythm nation
people of the world unite
strength in numbers we can get it right
we are a part of the rhythm nation
(rhythm nation) yeah
song performed by by Janet Jackson from Rhythm Nation 1814
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surprise in Japan - A sincere apology
our Japanese teacher
starts her lesson bowing to us
and apologises for the war
I was rather surprised this 30's something Japanese teacher apologised for the role Japanese played in the second world war
in the Asia Pacific. All the students in this Japanese school in Ichikawa Japan were from Asia particularly China, Korea, Malaysia and Singapore. Many Japanese never felt sorry about the ruthlessness they unleashed on their neighbours but there are some who knew of the real situations and are ready to apologise when occasions permits it.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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M7
The world shakes again
and people begin to count the numbers
they forget
what is important is always the quality
and, for which,
no matter what the numbers are,
they do not matter anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Numbers
Its stranger how some numbers
keep recurring in our lives.
At first, we do not notice it
until one day we think of them.
Our date of birth, houses numbers we have lived in,
our children’s birth date
and our brother or sister’s date of birth.
When you look at them
and one number seems to readily appear,
you begin to wonder if that number
has some bearing on our lives.
The number linked to my life is number 8.
I was born on the 18th,
in Canada the house I grew up in was 28
and my sister was born on the 18th.
Moving to England our house number was 62.
When my wife and I got married,
our first house was 24,
our second house was 18
and our present house number is 107.
My wife’s birth date is the 8th;
my son was born on the 17-8-71.
Everywhere I look the number 8 just keeps popping up.
Coincidence I guess you could call it,
or is there something else a foot.
I will just let you the reader to decide.
3 September 2009
Author’s note.
The evening I wrote this, my wife went out, was talking to someone, and mentioned how the number 8 always appeared in our lives.
Coincidence?
poem by David Harris
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A terse poem on numbers
Numbers are everywhere
twenty four hours in a day
seven days in one week
thirty one in the month of May.
A number on your front door
and on houses down your road
numbers on your credit card
and also of your postal code.
Numbers called out at Bingo
two fat ladies are number eight
and if your numbers come up
you'll go home feeling great.
Would you like a cup of tea?
one or two sugars in your cup?
sorry but I have to go now
that's the end time is up!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Honor And Courage
In Japan, they write on rice paper,
In America, we write on the sides of buildings.
In Japan they honor their elders,
In America, we rob them on buses,
And abuse them.
In Japan there is great love for their country.
In America, people are refusing to stand,
For the national anthem.
In Japan, men are volunteering to die,
Without a second thought,
To give up their lives,
To save their fellow citizens.
Oh yes, you'll say, the Japanese are great,
At dying, at suicide missions.
But is that the point?
Shouldn't the point be,
The Japanese love their homeland,
The Japanese love their own people,
The Japanese love their way of life,
The Japanese love their traditions,
Love, honor, respect, courage,
Nobody writes on Japanese walls.
Offenders are quickly and severely dealt with.
Wouldn't you volunteer also?
Maybe not.
Honor, and courage,
Seem to be,
In short supply,
Stateside.
3/26/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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I mean it's the most objective industry in the world. If your numbers stink, you're out. If your numbers are good, you get more money. It's the most Darwinian, it's beautiful, it's brutal, it works.
quote by Jim Cramer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Feet
There was a little boy once upon a time
Who in spite of his young age and small size knew his mind
For every copper penny and clover he would find
Make a wish for better days the end of hard times
For no more cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
His clothes were always clean
His face was always scrubbed
There was food on the table enough to fill him up
His house was full of life - his house was full of love
But when winter days arrived
There was never money enough to shod his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He grew up to be a worker determined to succeed
He made a life for himself, free from worldly wants or needs
But with nobody to share the life hed made
No body to keep him warm at night
When hed go to sleep hed sleep alone with his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
One night he walked the street looking to the heavens above
Searching for a shooting star a benevolent god
When a woman passing by brushed his arm
He turned and found love
He then wished for the courage to ask this stranger
Who she was to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought shed like the party life and want the finer things
So he promised more than he could buy
And he promised her the sun and moon to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He worked day and night his fingers to the bone
Hi worried mind guilty conscience drive him on
He cant give her what she needs
He wants to give her what he thinks she wants
Her sad-eyed face, his empty pockets drive him on and his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Hed struggled all his life to be an honest man
Proud that the dirt on his palms was the soil of the land
But some guys he knew from high school days
Said they had a plan to get rich quick
And they could count him in if he dont have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought about their offer accepted it without qualms
Dreamt about the life hed buy
The comfort that would come without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He decided to tell his wife things would soon turn around
He said the little boy is dead
A man stands with you now without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Without cold feet - cold cold cold cold feet
He thought hed set his clock right - he though hed read his watch
He left in such a hurry he didnt think to wish for luck
Makes no difference if youre early - no difference if youre late
When youre out of time - the flowers have been laid
Youre six feet underground
With cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Find Rest In Numbers
I find a time when numbers rest,
We will walk afterwards in words
In fear of them, in a scare of utter darkness.
The self-destruction has arrived,
The time has become ripe for the step.
Numbers and words are my language,
So I refrain from the talk of sleep,
Leaping forward like a jaguar,
And suggesting a happiness called Life.
My rest has a brick or two
In the walls of a house too comforting.
The most I call you is in words
That deliver praises full of righteousness.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Chase
you chase the numbers
and you are at a loss
how can the numbers feel?
you are in a discomfort
in some fits
and not at ease with yourself
because you believe in
numbers and like horses you
want to capture each
with a rope of your
tired imagination
disregard the numbers and begin
to believe in the words
those syllables
even in the simplest form
of the comma,
the period.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The requiem of the flies
The rain is crashing upon my face
Its like God is trying to wash away my pain
I look down upon the puddles of mud
Thinking about all the things I have done
The rain is so cold
The dark grey gloom surrounds me
My life is not as it should be
And I don't care anymore
I find that Living is such a bore
The rain is so cold
My mind is numb, cold and blank
This world is passing me by
This world is cold and dank
And I wonder why I have not died
The rain is so cold
Abaddon holds no surprises for me
Under the pale moon I danced on my grave
And I am on my way to hell
I cant deny what is to be
The rain is so cold
My soul is heavy and stained and
I don't want to carry it no more
I carry two coins in my hand
Waiting upon the water's shore
The rain is so cold
The man in white comes for me
Pretending to walk on water
Feet stuttering, hips jutting
About to fall in and he is getting closer
The rain is so cold
There will be no requiescat for me
My apple of Peru has wilted and
The lord of the flies wont let me be
He crushes the flower in my hand
The rain is so cold
It was my last day on earth
The two coins in my hand my life is not worth
My soul knows will know no reprieve
From hell I will never leave
The rain is so cold
My life is to repand upon itself
It is destined to reprise
My song has not ended
But has repetended
The rain is cold
To the Archean I was sent
Where I was meant to repent
Repentir, pentir, paenitere
Until the worlds' end
The rain is so cold
From the puddles of mud I look up
And realize I have gotten old
All my years spent wondering,
And I have no story to be told
The rain is so cold
I can only hope to die one day
And start it all over again but
The lord of the flies wont let me die
I have become one of his flies to my dismay
poem by Leonid Gonzalez
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Life Is Like A Number Line
Life Is Like a number Line,
Between negative infinity to positive infinity,
At the middle have that zero,
All are finite numbers,
Zero stands for nothing,
Infinity for everything,
But zero is some how useful,
When it is with numbers on proper side,
Infinity is useless as it engulf all!
Numbers are special on their own,
Some are positives, have mirror images in negatives,
May be integers or fractions,
May be rational or irrational,
Some are real and some are imaginary,
These make number of life complex,
Polynomaials with complex roots,
Or with complex coefficients,
If we take them on XY plane, they act and interact with one another,
Some make us laugh, as we find the answer,
Some brings us to sober, as they remain as mystery!
But life Is not to dimensional,
Multi dimensional it is,
So multidimensional space of life make it wonderful,
A wonder out of reach of all!
But modular sets can draw some with some similarities
If you want to become mathematician,
Learn to play with them, bearing all headache they cause!
Otherwise either multiply all numbers by zero,
And yourself too, become zero,
Or merge all in infinity to wash your dirty hands,
If you want to know what is life,
Become a mathematician to play with numbers,
Life Is nothing but interaction of real with real or real with imaginary, positive with positive,
Negative with negative,
Or positive with negative,
Rational with rational,
irrational with irrational, most of time a rational with irrational,
But noone is perfect like zero among finite,
And no one can't say anything about the infinite!
The Soul is that space on which all numbers play according to the karma and thoughts!
Oops this interactions of numbers is life!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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