Languages
Add the numbers and letters to mix,
Entombing this folly creates alcoholics.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Zero One Slash Seventeen Slash Zero Nine
he does not like to use numbers
and so all his numbers are letters
and all his thoughts in numbers
are written in letters including the
date when his poem is written
making it the very title of the same
and all his emotions are in letters
even though he knows that each
feeling has a corresponding number
and even the colors are numbered
in letters. Blue is the number four.
Nine is class. Forty-seven is pride.
ninety-nine is not perfect and
one hundred is too much for an
old aging man like him who likes
to arrive at zero and then enjoy
his much needed rest. He likes to
be happy and wants to sleep, so he
begins to write, one, two, three, four,
five, six.... and so on and so forth.
autistic savant, they all call him.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Who Are The Anonymous
There two kinds of alcoholics those who can function and those can not
We call them functional, and nonfunctional alcoholics.
One works every day just to celebrate
The other calls off sick, bums money for another drink and continues to celebrate
So to the alcoholics who are anonymous which one are you?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Knowledge Of Letters And Numbers
Knowledge of Letters and Numbers
are essentials and EQUIVALENT to EYES;
In those days, say in olden days
the scope of education was very low;
Those people acquired the knowledge
by way of learning numbers to count,
And letters to interact with, in a learned court.
Ref: ThirukkuRaL 392
eNNenpa Enai ezhuththenpa ivviraNtum
kaNNenpa vaazhum uyirkku.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Old Man Kensey
Old man kensey wants to be a sign painter
First hes got to learn to read
Hes gonna be a clown on tv
Flexes his elbow taunt and free
Thats my folly, I believe
Drink up the lake kenseys awake
Thats my folly, thats my mistake
Old man kensey wants to be a goalie
First hes got to learn to count
Hes gonna be a clown on a circus mount
Letters to be signed and dropped off
Kenseys going far
John, bill and ed, stand on your head
Thats my folly, Im ready to go
Old man kensey wants to be a dog catcher
First hes got to learn to stand
Hes gonna be a clown in a marching band
Letters to be signed ransom greed
Thats my folly, I believe
Drink up the lake, john, bill and ed,
Thats my folly, thats my mistake
Kenseys awake, stand on your head
Thats my folly, Im ready to go
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Love Creates
Love creates mysterious things,
Love creates beautiful expressions,
Love creates everything we need,
Love creates without a thought :)
Love creates no thinking mind,
Love expresses from hearts,
Love comes through effortlessly,
Love becomes the place we share :)
Love is our greatest gift,
Love shares our hearts as one,
Love is creation and our intentions,
Love knows our beauty without pretending :)
Love creates ABUNDANCE always,
LOVE CREATES OUR INTENTIONS,
Love creates our endless wants regardless,
Love is our self expression SHARED :)
poem by Paul Jensen Jr
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War...
war creates fighting that kills everyone...
war creates hate where love should be...
war creates tears that will never dry away...
war creates pain that wont go away...
war creates sadness that wont feel better...
war creates destruction that will take too long to fix...
war blinds us of what’s right or wrong...
war steals us of the right to be happy...
war creates gaps that keep us apart...
war creates a fire you cant put out...
war drops bombs on our hopes and dreams...
war creates children without a father, no one to tuck them in at night...
war makes it hard for a parent to say “everything will be alright” when then don’t even have anyone that they can say “good night”.
war scars a child's mind with things they cant erase...
war makes a good nights sleep a living hell...
war creates nightmares that are never-ending dreams and then, just screams
war creates guilt that eats you alive inside...
war makes you see things that make you scream inside...
war creates scars when all you've seen is blood and more...
war only leaves death when every body drops to the floor...
war creates silence after it ends, so how long till it starts again?
and when all the willing that will fight, die and say their last good night
the war will end, the living will mourn, all for peace but what was it all for? For all those people who died, just so now everyone alive, can do nothing to cope but cry...
Age 14
poem by Alexander SaPonte
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Mother creates the Universe
Mother creates the Universe
Mother creates Prakriti
Mother creates Purusha
Mother creates the world
Mother means creative power
Mother is Shakti
Sakti is Brahmaswarupini.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Letters Never Sent
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
In a suitcase tied with string
On the highest shelf
In the closet down the hall
Hidden from myself
Fits of madness, pools of grief
Fevers of desire
How peculiar these remain
Slavaged from the fire
For some I crumpled some I burned
Some I tore to shreds
Lifetimes later, here they are
Ones I saved instead
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Never reached their destination
Mostly born of pain
Resurfaced with the purpose of
A trip down memory lane
Broken hearted, breaking hearts
All the way it went
Evidence of what I saw
My experiments
Lifes a riddle, lifes a dream
Lifes an accident
Now Im gonna set them free
Letters never sent
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Once upon a time taboo
Letters never sent
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Incongruous, and overdue
Letters never sent
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Red Letters
Red letters
Cut deep
Soothe the pain inside.
Red letters
Bold and loud
Scream silently.
Red letters
Secret and hidden
But a cry for help.
Red letters -
A way to deal with this pain.
As I cut these words into my skin
I remember seeing red words somewhere before
Then it hits me like a lightning bolt -
Words of Jesus are printed in red. Words of Christ in red.
Red letters
Real truth, piercing deep
Soothes my pain inside.
Red letters
Your passion, Your blood
Covers me.
Red letters
Hope and life
I cry, 'Fill me! '
Red letters -
You were pierced and bloody
So I wouldn't have to be.
'What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
Oh! precious is the flow that makes me white as snow!
No other fount I know -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus! '
Red letters... Nothing but the blood -
Red letters... Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
poem by Zoe MacRae
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In his image
god creates the physique
as a compass
to him
the body a sanctum
to cultivate
the soul
god creates the physique
as a guide to
finetune his soul
god creates the physique
a tool to upgrade the
vibrations of the soul
in order that it can fit
nicely into the mould of god
god creates the physique
to see how far man
can veer away from him
the physique a piano
songs of the soul
are played
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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The Natural Numbers
My numbers never ending
Stretching to infinity
But never ever reaching there
And always further off than me
Are those strange transfinite numbers
Whose names sound like some odd code
Like aleph and omega
And, as Mr Godel showed
We need these abstract artefacts
Even if imaginary
To prove all higher theorems
And ensure consistency
But there are further mysteries
That from my numbers do arise
Like never ending decimals
Irrational numbers in disguise
They too are quite invented
Just convenient in use
When my simple natural numbers
Do not serve to make a proof
Oh the mysteries of numbers!
Oh the madness of all that!
When what started off as counting
Becomes higher abstract maths.
poem by David Keig
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Numbers..
Numbers are cruel,
When the heart beats ninety per minute,
when pressure is, down very down,
High very high, fluctuating.
Numbers are cruel,
when wearing spectacles,
power can not be adjusted,
must buy a new pair.
Numbers are cruel,
when using Glucometer,
higher the reading,
must control the eating.
Numbers are cruel,
when one has thousand,
sometimes in negatives and
the other has millions.
Numbers are cruel,
when one is young and fresh,
and the other is old and in mess,
bigger the number, wiser.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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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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Ice
Pound the ice with your layers of skin,
At the edge of screaming agony,
Forcing the convictions,
Going fuzzy in mind,
Making the blankets,
Bleeding with strictness,
And being better memory.
I try to pause for a moment,
Keeping numbers and letters
In my secrets and concepts.
I always test those ice-breakers
As they are machine-guns of anger.
My lead is my fire, my iron accuses
As the thrift of the pen has occurred.
Already, the small mirror shatters
Along the fiery plane,
Asking us a sanctuary
That bleeds like the heart.
A solver is in dispute,
One-digit numbers bring on
Harmony.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love.
quote by Mao Zedong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love.