Numbers
I like the generosity of numbers.
The way, for example,
they are willing to count
anything or anyone:
two pickles, one door to the room,
eight dancers dressed as swans.
I like the domesticity of addition--
add two cups of milk and stir--
the sense of plenty: six plums
on the ground, three more
falling from the tree.
And multiplication's school
of fish times fish,
whose silver bodies breed
beneath the shadow
of a boat.
Even subtraction is never loss,
just addition somewhere else:
five sparrows take away two,
the two in someone else's
garden now.
There's an amplitude to long division,
as it opens Chinese take-out
box by paper box,
inside every folded cookie
a new fortune.
And I never fail to be surprised
by the gift of an odd remainder,
footloose at the end:
forty-seven divided by eleven equals four,
with three remaining.
Three boys beyond their mothers' call,
two Italians off to the sea,
one sock that isn't anywhere you look.
poem by Mary Cornish
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Related quotes
Ludwig von Beethoven had never mastered the elements of arithmetic beyond addition and subtraction. A thirteen-year-old boy whom he had befriended tried unsuccessfully to teach him simple multiplication and division.
quote by Jan Ehrenwald.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Umbrella!
The white umbrella!
The muse of your love;
But, i am ready to stay with you always because of your care.
Action,
Passion,
Mission,
Nation,
Attraction,
Addition,
Subtraction,
Multiplication,
Division,
Vision,
Emotion;
But, i will always stay with you my love.
The white umbrella!
In the land of your love;
Searching and reaching out to you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Liquid Generosity
The ocean offers her abundance;
Are you jealous of the ocean’s generosity?
Why would she refuse to give this gift to anyone?
Fish do not hold her sacred liquid in cups
They swim in huge liquid freedom…
Be a fish;
Swim in your boundless abundance
Share that abundance
Generosity is only limited by unwillingness
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 24
A weak fisherman caught a strong fish in his net and not being able to retain it the fish overcame him and pulled the net from his hand.
A boy went to bring water from the torrent.
The torrent came and took the boy away.
The net brought every time a fish.
This time the fish went and carried off the net.
The other fishermen were sorry and blamed him for not being able to retain such a fish which had fallen into his net. He replied: ‘O brothers, what can be done? My day was not lucky but the fish had yet one remaining. ‘Moral: A fisherman cannot catch a fish in the Tigris without a day of luck and a fish cannot die on dry ground without the decree of fate.
Silver Treetop School For Boys
Heres the town in which I live petunia green
Heres the shop and heres the man who sold me laces for my shoes
There is mr.marcus. boys they say hes mad
heres the battle that they won silver treetop school for boys
Early days were good as gold
An apple here an apple there
And everywhere a yes sir, no sir
They made me roll the cricket pitch once a day
Ive never been so happy than at silver treetop school for boys
The mowing machine was leaving small piles of grass
That when the ? ? ? had risen to the pipe of mr.marcus
The smell of teaching fell upon the cricket field
Smiling, laughing, rolling about at silver treetop school for boys.
Hey there
They call in the staff room
They call in the canteen
Hey come and look at what I found
I found some boys and masters sitting
On the cricket ground at silver treetop school for boys
The english master, sir, he wores a purple mask
And the head, was usually sad, was swinging from a tree
Mr.brown the physics man is off his head
And everyone just loves the grass at silver treetop school for boys
Lalalalalalala lalala lalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalala
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Addition
I do not question whether I am happy or unhappy.
Yet there is one thing that I keep gladly in mind --
that in the great addition (their addition that I abhor)
that has so many numbers, I am not one
of the many units there. In the final sum
I have not been calculated. And this joy suffices me.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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When I remember the fish
When I remember the fish,
The river longed me to go,
Wriggling and meandering, slippery in this
Imaginary waters of my world,
I become a fish.
When eye sea them eat the fish;
They cast their nets for a random catch, they
Drop their hooks for a strangling pull, then,
I become a fish no more.
When them fail to catch the fish;
As the fish wriggles an escape,
Then eye long to be like one as eye
Wonder whether or not am a fish.
©1998
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
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The Numbers
i think i am beginning to know the numbers
their meanings
inside the big dome the dancers are practicing
the steps are numbered
and the whole day the leader keeps the count
one two three four
five six
seven eight nine ten
eight seven six five
four three
two one
four three two one
five six seven eight
eight seven six five four three
two one
the whole day for the whole week for the whole month
these numbers are counted like
one two three four
five six
seven eight nine ten
eight seven six five
four three
two one
four three two one
five six seven eight
eight seven six five four three
two one
i am standing by the door
looking at the dancers jump to the count of
six five four three
two one
they run and stop and run again
and stamp on the left and on the right
and point and slash
and jump and
kick and sway and
stand and kneel
and kick and slash
eight seven six five
four three two one
four three
four three two one
numbers indeed
are numbing
they make us numb
they are making us dumb
five four three two one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Will you marry me
Seven years old in primary school
1944 up and running
and you in diapers one year on milk
1943 gave us your eyes
What if you I tell you I don’t know sums
and ran from whipping from teacher so furious
can’t stand a boy strange to addition
division too complex for hoarding mind
Ran away to escape the whip
spent the hours in hiding far from home
unknown to dad with a bigger cane for truant son
teacher and father in perfect agreement
What if I came and said, marry me
tattered running nose and all divided
don’t add up to much can’t multiply
would you take me in as you do now
poem by Mark Nwagwu
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A Red Palm
You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.
That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair
In an abandoned school of dry spiders.
Dust settles on your forehead, dirt
Smiles under each fingernail.
You chop, step, and by the end of the first row,
You can buy one splendid fish for wife
And three sons. Another row, another fish,
Until you have enough and move on to milk,
Bread, meat. Ten hours and the cupboards creak.
You can rest in the back yard under a tree.
Your hands twitch on your lap,
Not unlike the fish on a pier or the bottom
Of a boat. You drink iced tea. The minutes jerk
Like flies.
It's dusk, now night,
And the lights in your home are on.
That costs money, yellow light
In the kitchen. That's thirty steps,
You say to your hands,
Now shaped into binoculars.
You could raise them to your eyes:
You were a fool in school, now look at you.
You're a giant among cotton plants.
Now you see your oldest boy, also running.
Papa, he says, it's time to come in.
You pull him into your lap
And ask, What's forty times nine?
He knows as well as you, and you smile.
The wind makes peace with the trees,
The stars strike themselves in the dark.
You get up and walk with the sigh of cotton plants.
You go to sleep with a red sun on your palm,
The sore light you see when you first stir in bed.
Fish vs. Humans
The fish swim in the coral
and we get stuck in school
Some fish are trapped forever in the aquarium inside the tanks
Some people are trapped by wrongdoings, and are put in prison instead of spanked
Fish swim in schools that look similar to them
Teenagers stay in clicks that I'm sure will never end
Sometimes I go to the aquarium and I admire all the fish
I wonder how many times fish think 'to be a human is all I wish'
poem by Rebecca Bell
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Swedish Fish
Green or red, goodnight, remember
Green is best of all the flavours
Go ahead, its only water
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my secret wish
Talk to me, I need attention
Tell me all of your confessions
Tell me if I cease to mention
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my pisces gift
Im never coming back
I am too far gone
Wont you be heading this way
Before too long?
Im holding on you
To you
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my secret wish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my favourite gift
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is it really like fishing?
They say there is many fish in the sea to choose from.
But have you ever gone fishing?
They say do not worry they are like fish you lose one then get a fresh one.
But have you actually gone fishing?
They say you can be picky when fishing your fish.
But have you been in the sea and fished?
They even say some actually smell like fish.
But have you really smelled a fish?
They say there is plenty of fish in the sea.
But have you actually gone and counted the fish in the sea?
They say once you catch that perfect fish, you are bound for a good life.
But have you caught that perfect fish they all speak of?
They say some fish can be beautiful.
But have you seen any beautiful fish?
How can one compare a fish?
They are not alike.
How can one say it is as easy as finding a fish?
It is not a simple task.
How can they say there are so many fish in the sea?
When there are so many fishers who have yet to catch.
Can you really compare life and love to a fish?
The answer is of course not.
You can’t.
Impossible.
Unreal.
Not imaginable.
Unbelievable.
Unrealistic.
A fairy tale.
poem by ReubenJames Rodriguez
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The Sound Of Your Poetry
i watch the color of your words dripping
on the still pond
i am up on one of the clouds hanging on
a tree without leaves
i see your last syllable falling from your hand
like a silver coin
getting through a layer of the water
where it falls upside down
(you have seen it when we were once
on the boat watching the Samal children
chasing your charity on the sea)
until it is gone
like a fish taking the deeper part
of the ocean floor
then you begin to travel with the last remaining ripple
to nowhere.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cat Fish
Cat fish play and leap witter-wotter. Over slow yonder. Purple mountains, apple skys, and jam taste like yip. Yap cat fish grew, so fast they licked ripe grass. Lumber slumbers in cat fish numbers. Lovers and muggers fall in deep cat fish reign. Cat fish took a long slumber on there yonder and were eaten by cat fish toddlers. The end!
poem by Shania K. Younce
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No Horse Town
i lived for a while
the fish who eat milk
stayed with me
i ran faster than the speed of tears
back and forth
the fish went
i wrote another chapter
in the good book
take it home
got to break out
of this no horse town
the question is how
the fish who eat milk
stayed with me
their story is long
the church organ harmonica
played out of tune but
it still sounds good
i sell fear
see the tip jar
all these groceries to pay for
all my life i
searched for
something to hate
the fish who eat milk
they are not many but
they have strong bones
poem by Bobby Crawford
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A Love Poem #1
I really like
To write you
A love poem
Someday
One that
Looks like the
Shadow of
A young man
Fishing out
To the sea
And spreads
His net and
Paddles his
Way around
A school of
Fish and then
He waits
For a while
Dreaming
Only about
You
Then he
Sees a seagull
Encircling
Above his
Head flying
Over him
And then
Hovers
On the side
Of his
Boat like
Looking for a
Fish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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God Asked Noah
Before the world was drenched in shame
Ere Satan reigned in man
The Father Son and Holy Flame
Wrote down salvation’s plan
Then God told man to build a boat
In faith to walk inside
But only eight were kept afloat
All unbelievers died
“I thank You Lord for saving me
For I was drowning too
From certain death You’ve set me free
And gave me life anew
Allow me in Your boat to sail
I’ve heard my Saviour’s call
In Christ I know I’ll never fail
Nor from Your grace will fall
I long to be a lifeboat Lord
Returning to the sea
Calling Your fish to climb on board
As Jesus did for me
With Christ I’ll sail to far off shores
In truth from port to port
We’ll free the catch from Satan’s claws
We’ll fish till all are caught
The wind is right the course is set
My Lord is at the helm
Let’s hoist the sail cast wide the net
Let’s fish throughout Your realm
Let’s cast our nets in every land
Let’s sail in one accord
Let’s teach the fish to understand
How safe is life on board.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Fish And Rice
Daniel phoned me today
with his usual two year old exuberance
which comes naturally when you are two
and comes naturally when you're fifty two
until you extinguish it with old damp habits,
and he said
'Fish! Fish! I like fish very much!
Daddy, fan fan, fan fan', (Chinese for rice)
and yes Daniel has already mastered
three languages, English, Mandarin and enthusiasm
the last of which he is most adept at.
Well I thought he was enjoying his fish supper
but not so, and I should have known,
this exuberance could not be the result of food
unless perhaps a rare taste
of smooth creamy chocolate.
No he was feeding fish,
fish with an appetite for rice?
No, but no one had told him the ingredients of fish food
or me for that matter
and of course he was right,
as far as the fish are concerned
this was indeed the rice of life.
And he was now suddenly very upset
standing in the corner, arms folded, despondent
what happened? I asked
I am told by my reporting wife
that there had been a message I had missed,
and should have known.
Feeding fish is more essential for happiness
than eating fish,
and on his return home, freely swimming happy fish
should be waiting for his love and bliss.
poem by David Taylor
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The Sea’s Fish
Fish are commands of the sea,
Opening our shelves and brilliance.
Guard yourself from the hungry fish,
Letting them go in the sea and ocean.
Inside the fish are fishes, of gold,
Of silver and flesh, of simple metal.
Let this be a challenge for the mighty in health,
Not for a soul too weak, afraid of fish.
poem by Naveed Akram
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