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Pagan Paul Nov 2018
.
The hypotenuse stretched
as far as the eye could see,
across a vast lateral plain
an horizon mathematically perfect.
And yet …
In the main square of the hypotenuse
the town crier bellowed out tidings.
The Triangle Triumvirate was unstable,
the discovery, nay re-discovery,
of the Mystery, the most horrific of Mysteries,
the Mystery of the missing
Fourth-Side.

Dweeb was a box standard barbarian.
Quick to anger, slow of wit.
Like last night at dinner.
He had Three potatoes, his sister had Four.
He shouted and thumped the table,
his angry voice expunging his ire.
Then his sister had explained,
to calm and reassure him.
Three was more than Four
because it had Five letters in it.
And Five is more than Four.
He thought about his axe,
then about his abacus,
and then he ate his spuds.

The Fourth-Side drifted in spacial isolation.
Of course now it wasn't a Side.
Being attached to nothing, it was just a line,
but it had some tricks.
It could coil and curl itself
to form rude words in joined up writing.
It floated on reminiscing,
about the **** angles it had made
with all its previous adjacent lovers.
The memory caused spasms
and it formed into a rude word
that should never ever be written down.

Teena, Dweeb's sister, vomited.
She had kissed a puppy,
and was being sick in the morning,
was she pregnant?
But, it was never a puppy, always a stork.
He mum had told her, warned her
'never kiss an errant stalk'.
Her mum died of the pox, whatever that is.
Something clicked in her head.
Oh! Stork and stalk!
Well they do sound the same,
especially in a harsh barbarian accent.
But the puppy had sneezed
as she had kissed it goodnight.
She thought about her axe.
And then she threw up again.


Equations to be solved #7
Vlad the Impaler was a Barbarian
+
Vlad the Impaler was a Libra
=
Dracula was a Librarian?



Right Angle was worried.
Duly so.
If the Fourth-Side Mystery was solved
he'd have three other Right Angles to deal with,
instead of a sixty and a thirty.
The Triangle Triumvirate would cease.
An intense Quadrilateral Mexican stand-off
would ruffle his perfect two-seventy external.
He had to divert attention away,
far, far away, from the Fourth-Side.
By Jove he had it! Bingo!
Let them try to solve
the Mystery of
The Back-Side.

Dweeb loved winding up his sister.
So he hid her puppy in a box.
But now he was worried.
Was the puppy still alive?
Or dead? Or both?
This may sound like a ****** stupid question
but where did that last thought come from?
Yes!
Yes what?
Yes, it was a ****** stupid question!

Teena though it very strange.
When she rang the dinner Triangle
the cat sat on the mat,
Salivating!
Curiouser and curiouser.
Conditioned response or learnt behaviour?
Teena dismissed the thought line,
she didn't ask ****** stupid questions.

It had no idea
about its status as a Mystery.
The Fourth-Side has issues.
Complicated issues.
It had somehow conspired
to tie itself in a knot.
And spacial isolation had become crowded.
Missing links everywhere, the sofa of time,
excommunicated integers, 1970's wallpaper,
it all floated about in spacial isolation.
Above all Fourth-Side was intensely agitated.
Couldn't anyone quieten that yapping puppy?




© Pagan Paul (06/11/18)
.
My psychedelic washing machine mind on spin cycle!

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/29495/strange-world/
.
She was divided ÷ by the times × her new addition + was taken away -
Sehar Bajwa Sep 2018
mathematical
incompatibility;
a SYNTAX ERROR
star crossed lovers
fate decreed our distance
nish Sep 2018
isn’t it truly amazing
this universe
in which we co-exist
has evolved
through dinosaurs
evolution and wars
heartbreak and turmoil
happiness and moments of peace  
every single event
extravagant or minute
each occurrence played a part
to mould this space we live in
so many contributions
in the form of attributions
all the tongues created
words spoken, thoughts shared
stories passed down through generations
buildings assembled, torn down
life and death
diseases and cures
chaos and equilibrium
a perpetuous cycle playing out
continuously on loop
all of it comes together
to form this mess of an education system
that’s makes me want to **** myself.
honestly it’s 3am and I’m up studying for an exam a month away that’s supposed to decide my whole future and the career paths I can take. suffering doesn’t even begin to cut it, there’s such a huge sense of foreboding and so many children commit suicide over stress or fear of disappointment. I know there are loads of issues worldwide and I probably could’ve written a better poem about it. But here I am addressing the education system and how whack it is. Goodnight. Hope you enjoyed.
Skye Aug 2018
I
Want
To write
A poem
About things I know
Numbers and mathematics but
People don't like maths
It's boring
It's just
Hard
Work.
Jayantee Khare Mar 2018
Height of trust × volume of love × time of togetherness = depth of wound
Just scribbling
one hundred percent
is an ideal quota
there's perfection
in the quota

that's
the
quota
all
gals
so
love
on
guy­s
giving
one
hundred
percent
of
their
love

no other quota
will suffice
it's got to be
one hundred percent
that quota
is so nice

why give
forty percent
why give
sixty percent
always make it
one hundred percent

it's a simple maths equation
one and one
equals a well entwined two
and it only happens
when one hundred percent
ensues
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
“How is my work?”, she asked

If graded, 5/10.
You passed.

Happy, she was.

“But there is more to go”, later I added.

“Is there more than to pass?”, voice of  innocence.

A way long.
Genre: Inspirational
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Under
The rule of law  
With a great smile  
She plays mathematical game.  
  
Sometime,  
Adding,  
Subtracting,  
Multiplying,  
Dividing,  
Switching 
But rarely,  
Stopping  
  
On query, she replied  
“You are getting pill for”,  
Pain  
Sleep  
Wake up  
Dream  
Breathe  
Smile  
Forget, and to  
Live
  
Disclosure
My only drug dealer  
My Doctor.
Genre: Clinical
Theme: Follow Up SOS
valerie megan Dec 2017
When infinity must be finite,
When changes to one variable no longer affect another variable,
When the long tape of the cassette that records the entire memory is broken,

will everything just end?
will everything be erased like never exist?
will you think I'm not there?

I will stay right here
Stand at this point
Looking at you until this heart is powerless
Until these eyes are tired
Until these legs are limp
Until...
This heart stops beating

Because I know that actually deep inside,

There are still pieces of memory about me
About us.
it is based on my true story. ha. im sorry. this is way too cheesy. im just getting started. but it is real. enjoy.
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