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Math Poem

Mental stretching, the required sacrifice
Addition, subtraction, multiplication and division
To all exercises, these four are the basics
Hell on paper but sweet in its understanding
Equations and formula, serving as raw products
Mastering the existence of numbers to gain its wisdom
Arithmetics also in a graphical representation
Then its technicalities in shapes and planes
Into life's activities, these applications silently integrate
Calculation of numbers and expressions
Sum up all problems via solutions to an answer.
Copyright © Funom Makama  Year Posted 2016

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Math Poem

Why do we need math?
Because it puts us on a narrow path.
Even though it sometimes makes you swell up in wrath.
To most,
Math just causes you stress,
But thats not the case.
Its a workers base,
Math is in every place.
Math doesn't have a realistic face,
But when it is used,
It leaves a remarkable trace!
Copyright © Ettie Christian  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

Probabilities
fallen fruit exists
earthen harvest and ground meet
jars in the pantry
Robert J. Lindley ,07242014
Copyright © Robert Lindley  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

line count and word number are equal in this selection....
"Make It Count"
by: Eric L. Boddie
A
Man may
Come to play
But if you say
Oh no baby, not today
Do you think he would stay
Or would he go so far away
In search of another lover he could lay
Doing everything associated with rolling in that infamous hay
And if push came to shove, maybe he would pay
To relieve all the stress stemming from your hips' distant sway
Because something must give, there are more than fifty shades of gray
That's common knowledge to the freaks and all those upon which they prey
And once you learn them all, I promise your lover will never ever stray
But if you miss just a single one, then you may experience that dreadful day
Where you lose it all so try to find True Love and remember to always Pray
Copyright © eric boddie  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

“MetaFour”
I “met a four”
when I was three
and oh the things
it did to me
and fingers counting
onetwo three.
When the four
brought in a five
all my counting fingers
came alive.
Reaching for the
other hand
said “times two”
is oh so grand.
They ran through
six, then seven – eight
danced with the nine
to celebrate.
Then the quantum leap
to ten
and shouts of
let’s do it again.
Somehow the
ones and two and threes
increase in size
exponentially.
Still, my fingers are
mathematically smitten
seeking warmth
within a mitten.
John G. Lawless
12/4/2014
Copyright © John lawless  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

Pythagoras once fell off a ladder
And landed on a venomous adder
This adder couldn't add
Calculus made it sad
Algebra and theorems made it madder.
Copyright © Nandita Das  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

Fear of Numbers
Fear of numbers is real
They carry adding machines on their backs
And loaded numbered guns
Divide and subtract from families and everyone
With two times the pleasure two times the fun
Double their trouble on the run
You cannot escape the digits on your hands and toes
They are counting on you to pull them through
Children fear math and numbers like the plague
Run from them at multiple fractions of a second
Poof!...Like zero, (Is that a real name and number?), they are gone
Figures hide behind accountants glasses
Hitting you with tons of taxes
Not to be divisive or derisive
Or taken down in dividends
I think they’re out to get you
In the end they have no =
Something’s don’t add up
You can count on that
Copyright © Earl Schumacker  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

Mathematicians
Use a complicate language
Hard to understand.
Things are quite simple
When are thought in simple words.
No mathematics?
Copyright © Mario DE PAZ  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

Can one count the pieces of a broken heart?
Can a flag half staff proudly wave?
Will kites still rise in staccato weather,
or partial freedom be less than a slave?
Explain this measure of a hearts half beat
wind that blows yet never reaches the trees
the disfigured countenance of a dreamers disgrace
how half body dreams cry imbalance in between
Tarnished stains of unpolished silver
flyblown details of a life unabridged
groping for a fortress forged by slivers
unfit by the stages between and betwixt
shifting weight from east to west
dodging shadows of intent and neglect
standing at the post where the middle never met
like a chromosome missing beholding whats left
Oh to be pregnant with hope
then giving birth to a portion revoked
How does one survive the division
of two halves opposing a whole
What brightness can a light once shining
affect through half of a soul?
and where is the joy in knowing
without two halves you'll never be whole?
A heart scattered in fractions
equations refusing an algorithms find
These are the conundrums which riddle
and the factors left baffling the span of time
Copyright © Sarai Virden  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

Zero.
By which nothing is divided.
No zero
no negative
no opposite
no hope
no Adam, no apple, no marriage, no morning.
No mirror
no knowledge
no God, no soul, no ear lobe, no Iliad, no Odyssey.
No universe
no black hole
no zodiac
no hero
no mission, no omission, no fission, no fusion.
No beanstalk
no tractor
no yellow
no 7:30, no wind, no window, no owl, no one.
In 773, at AlMansur's behest, translations were made of the Siddhantas, Indian astronomical treatises dating as far back as 425 B.C.; these versions may have been the vehicles through which the "Arabic" numerals and the zero were brought from India into China and then to the Islamic countries. In 813 the Persian mathematician Khwarizmi used the Hindu numerals in his astronomical tables; about 825 he issued a treatise known in its Latin form as Algoritmi de numero Indorum, Khwarizmi on Numerals of the Indians. After him, in 976, Muhammed ibn Ahmad in his "Keys to the Sciences," remarked that if in a calculation no number appears in the place of tens, a little circle should be used "to keep the rows." This circle the Arabs called sifr. That was the earliest mention of the name sifr that eventually became zero. Italian zefiro already meant "west wind" from Latin and Greek zephyrus. This may have influenced the spelling when transcribing Arabic sifr. The Italian mathematician Fibonacci (c. 11701250), who grew up in North Africa and is credited with introducing the decimal system in Europe, used the term zephyrum. This became zefiro in Italian, which was contracted to zero in Venetian.  Wikipedia
After my father's appointment by his homeland as a state official in the customs house of Bugia for the Pisan merchants who thronged to it, he took charge; and in view of its future usefulness and convenience, had me in my boyhood come to him and there wanted me to devote myself to and be instructed in the study of calculation for some days. There, following my introduction, as a consequence of marvelous instruction in the art, to the nine digits of the Hindus, the knowledge of the art very much appealed to me before all others, and for it I realized that all its aspects were studied in Egypt, Syria, Greece, Sicily, and Provence, with their varying methods; and at these places thereafter, while on business, I pursued my study in depth and learned the giveandtake of disputation. But all this even, and the algorism, as well as the art of Pythagoras, I considered as almost a mistake in respect to the method of the Hindus (Modus Indorum). Therefore, embracing more stringently that method of the Hindus, and taking stricter pains in its study, while adding certain things from my own understanding and inserting also certain things from the niceties of Euclidxs geometric art, I have striven to compose this book in its entirety as understandably as I could, dividing it into fifteen chapters. Almost everything which I have introduced I have displayed with exact proof, in order that those further seeking this knowledge, with it preeminent method, might be instructed, and further, in order that the Latin people might not be discovered to be without it, as they have been up to now. If I have perchance omitted anything more or less proper or necessary, I beg indulgence, since there is no one who is blameless and utterly provident in all things. The nine Indian figures are: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1. With these nine figures, and with the sign 0 . . . any number may be written.  Fibonacci, Leonardo of Pisa
Copyright © Robert Ronnow  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

When oppositional cognitive dissonance deflects focus,
it tends to go back to when I deflected focus from her.
She sends me passiveaggressive messages,
bread crumbs leading back in time
to where she began to feel alone,
marginalized,
siloed,
anxious.
If you don't want a sopping wet tile bathroom floor
because I have thrown all my naked Barbie and Ken parts,
especially their waterfilled hollow insides,
and the five saturated pools of stained white washcloths
I took out of that drawer just like you said not to,
and the nice sudsy soft bar of soap,
then you might want to reconsider leaving the bathroom
during my bath.
You might want to think of telling a story
or imagining with my behavioral lectures
I so mercilessly inflict
on the shattered heads of my daughters,
oops,
I mean dolls.
Perhaps oppositional cognitive dissonance
is what Republicans have about Democrats.
If you folks would be so kind as to return to cooperative civic and civil discussion,
about my intrinsic dignity, royalty perhaps,
sense of anthrocentric entitlement,
immaculate integrity as a permacultured Orthodox Tradition,
utterly necessary to optimize sustainable and resilient health
for All Americans,
(although perhaps not quite sufficient),
including those who happen to have become embarrassed
by their unhealthy wealth and extravagant disregard
for undercommodified values,
like caring and nurturing, loving and therapeutic
mentoring relationships and trees of life, and economic
and ecological environmental (0)sum cooperative networks,
like the synergy of all natural systems,
most especially religious cultures
delivering a united and interdependent positive teleology
that we all created this rapacious, extractive mess together.
So, please stop leaving the bathroom of discourse,
regardless of how rhetorically insane and polemic,
every time we complain about your shitty attitudes
about wealthy compost and sustainable,
resilient,
optimized economic growth.
Then you democratically complain,
by voting for the one you hate the least,
as we go right on doing
what we intended to do
while we were throwing water
on your slipperyfloor economics
of radical,
reversehierarchical interdependence and mutual subsidiarity.
Much too "solidarity" for Republican taste as True,
much less Just to those who prefer their
economically entrenched competitive silos.
And,
our Democratic family value parents
hear their oppositionally disordered Republicans
as if they were bionically alien unitarian utilitarians,
like honey bees and ant hives,
devoid of deductive rational accessibility,
of even one of four dimensions of truth,
and without capacity to empathize with their wellmentored praxis,
of continually forgetting you could not climb a higher priority
right now
than telling your oppositional daughter Dr. Seuss's The Lorax,
interpreting each voice as your own Lorax Logos,
wondering why you continue competing
to reach a WinWin Cooperative Game,
and political
and economic
and ecological
and cultural
and biological karmic finish line,
alone in your Permaculture Designed polycultural PolyLife Tree Paradise.
When you think about it,
you can see that your competitive political
and economic assumption,
that WinWin cooperation will not have our final say,
is not ecologically, scientifically,
or even permaculturally, metaphysically
sound, rational, integrated,
sustainably designed to benefit future generations,
much less synergetic or holonically comprehensive.
You can't win a P=NP,
4fractal/spiral (0)sum
cooperative economic logistical plan
until everyone else has the freedom
and integrity
and ecotherapeutic orthopraxis comprehension,
intention,
to winwin with you, coincidentally.
With this perhaps unChristian,
and vaguely irreligious perspective
that Democratic mutualredeemer culture
is closer to (0) sum Core Value Balanced Heaven
rationality, and intuition,
than appears to be the case
for our benighted Republican
wealthy fatcat anthrosupremacist residents of Earth,
we have turned rather too far
our spinning cultural revolution pendulum
away from the racist sin of monocultural monotheism,
poverty and the overpowering commodification of human lives,
and the commodification of other species,
and the commodification of Earth's fire, water,
soil and sky,
Her capacity to regenerate fertile seeds,
turning away from sin as sterile insanity,
disability and absence,
to now prophecy the sins of monopolistic wealth,
and power;
to notice challenging, dissonant tipping points
within monocultural,
monochromatic,
monopolistic
bicamerally competing economic uncertainty
and ecological dysfunction for all consciousness
all nations,
reconnecting our more humane DNAinformed
bicameral information processor branch of EcoTribe,
RNAinscribed,
transliterate,
multisystemic and polycultural Climax Community,
diastatically
interdependently
coincidentally straining and stressing to comprehend
Polynomial SpaceTime = NotNot Polynomial Open Systemic Binomial Prime Relationship Temporal "Now"
as Yangconvex/positive = Yinconcave/negative,
as +1.00% QBit = +/(0)% Soul Coreemergent universal Vertex/Dark Recessional Vortex (Perelman, 1993)
So, yes, maybe somewhat closer,
but closer doesn't count
when playing WinWin economic ecotherapy.
Horseshoes don't fit elephants.
Speaking of elephants in toonarrowminded oppositional spaces,
where was I?
Oh, yes, she’s in the bathtub again,
better watch that floor.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

A slow, painful waking to a vessel that's shaking from the stress of its increasing mass,
And at once I'm made sure that it's all premature, for I should yet be sleeping, and fast.
Why I've not been kept deep in my long cryosleep, is a troubling notion, indeed,
For it's ten lightyears' span to the world where we plan to propagate our human seed.
The cryo's defect is a slow reconnect, with my senses still frozen and bare,
Yet I need my devices to discover the crisis, and keep safe the lives in my care.
I fight what's still left of the cryopod's deft reduction of all that I'm feeling,
Grab food from the fridge, stumble off to the bridge, the emergency sirens still pealing.
I at once raise the shield from the ship's forward field, and I stare straight ahead at what's wrong,
A bright purple spark in a nebula, dark, that is almost a full parsec long!
The shapes and the colors remind me of Mueller's "Two Girls" and his fine Gypsy lasses,
Lush watercolor hues of soft greens and blues, all the products of eddying gases.
It is beautiful, yes, but I do not need guess what the center is, blackened as coal,
What no light could pass through, a SINGULARITY, true, and one that would swallow us whole.
Too fast was our rate, we could not navigate 'round the nebulous dark 'twas our curse,
And our increasing mass was now too much to pass by a course we could safely traverse.
I thought, for a piece, we might try to increase the reaction at the core of our drive,
But with more antimatter, we were apt to just splatter in a vortex we could not survive.
If we had greater distance, or some added resistance, we might slow and alter our course,
But we were too near to the black hole to veer, and being pulled in by its force.
The process, onesided, baryogenesis provided, made our futile spot very dire,
And without the ship slowing, we were quickly now going from the frying pan into the fire.
We could not stay pointed on the course now anointed, or we'd soon meet our end there in space,
Yet we couldn't slow down, or change course to go 'round the black hole that now stared in our face.
Big on heroes, I'm not, but we DID have a shot, though a slim one, I must admit now,
I would use, (beg the term), a thing called a "worm" hole, if our increased mass would allow.
I poured three libations and did calculations required for bending the void,
Then tossed back each one, toasted daughters and son, and the ship that I'd apt leave destroyed.
I blessed the crew's slumbers and entered the numbers, hesitated at "Enter" a smidge,
And breathing a sigh, (whilst I covered one eye), I launched the command from the bridge ...
BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Well ... what happened next has left me perplexed, as I'm not on the ship, nor with crew,
But it must've gone well, cuz I'm still here to tell YOU the story ... now isn't that true?
I'm not on the lam, but just where I AM, is the puzzle I'm working on now,
For without ship and crew there's not much I can do, but try to get homeward, somehow.
Deep space, can I span it from here on this planet? (Though it seems to be one I can roam) ...
Ah yes, now, if only I wasn't so lonely, for the blue marble that I call ...
HOME.
** 7th Place in the "Jamie's Interesting Contest 2" Poetry Contest, Jamie Pan, Sponsor, Topic  The Speed of Light. **
Copyright © Gregory R Barden  Year Posted 2017

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Math Poem

Based on BBC news article "Maths zeroes in on perfect cup of coffee"
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/scienceenvironment37989169
Two billion cups a day we drink
To stay awake so we can think
Tireless workers  every nation
Need a caffeine drink equation
Lattes, mochas, cappuccinos
Our calculator super heroes
Measured, reasoned, wrote a theorem
Clockwork system  mighty fearsome
Divide the beans and add hot water
Multiplies the bean aroma
Takes away the taste chaotic
Get this right  it's sums and logic
China cups the theory goes
Helps the smell go up you nose
Cardboard mug with plastic roof
Not as good, but where's the proof?
But their reason's most disjoint
Like whole numbers  has no point
You just need a rule of thumb
QED for us dumbdumbs
(Entry for "wake up with coffee or tea" contest  shortened to meet rules)
Copyright © Mark Martin  Year Posted 2016

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Math Poem

Yin/Yang
Ch'ang as "Constant"
natural law of growth and decay
yanging and yinning,
logically necessary alternation of opposites
universally permacultural law: exterior nature as inner conscience communicant
Interior Landscape of ecoCh'ang ego's Exterior Landscape operatives
ecoself as "true nature"
exegetical identity of copassioned operation
natural 0dimensional Core identity "soul" functioning bicamerally
expressed as Exterior natural landscapeLeft (ego) deductive convex
WITH Interior natural landscapeRight (eco) intuitive concaving implied,
predicated, predicting, Fuller's precessive
ordaining ordination,
TwoTime Being quintessential and mutual Placeholders
for One holyfractal Universe.
Fundamental Radical
Placeholders: SpaceTime Quintessentials:
death life
winter summer
Uracil Guanine
Zero Fractal
0 3
1 4
fractal octave
0timedimension 3spacedimension
light place
transparency full spectrum octave
Tao Yang/Yinsquared
Hydrogen atomic 120
aptic synaptic
enthymematic reiterative
monomial polynomial
monoculture polyculture
boundary unity
dissonance confluence
chaos integrity
intent habit
humor gravitas
tipping point closing curtain
cell organism
set universe
icon culture
communication string community
subject objectives
meme transactional network
QBit Reverse Hierarchical WinWin Climax
DoubleDark "C" Enlightening Bionically Regenerative "L"
NotNot Monomial Positive Polynomial Bilateral CoRelationship
Zerodimensional
primal placeholders
concaving within this fractal
holonic
spacetime dimensional EarthUniversal ConScience.
Ordained ordination
as coredemptive coordination
as cooperative ecological econormics.
Ordained by Host embryos:
Time, progenitor of trinitarian dimensioned space,
RNA, progenitor of DNA bicameral places
faces
forms with hopeful polycultural economic functions,
communication strings of permacultural memory
forming futures,
decomposing past regenerations.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

Shapes of the Past.
Numbers of the Present
Variables of the Future.
Shapes are different for every little hand drawing them,
every grownup touching them.
Sometimes they miss a point,
only later to remember and disappoint,
in finding it too late to mend,
that broken shape.
Numbers are the same every time you see them,
a constant in problems and mazes of wits.
Yet, with 1 careless mistake,
it changes, never to be fixed again,
because you wrote in pen,
with the confidence of a youth,
the bane and talent of adolescence.
Variables change every time you try to simplify them.
Yet they never change their appearance,
staying the same throughout.
Until that moment,
reaching the last step,
they just become additional numbers,
that might be the right or wrong solution,
later confirmed with substitution.
Copyright © Lilia Rose  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

Basketball stands for war or battle.
That's why I think about the players'
personalities, in my foxhole or squad.
Danny and Ben are fast and smart. Dan
especially can pass making him master
and commander. To defeat them as we did
is very satisfying. Ben's five year old son
is intelligent but distant. Disdains to answer
my question Why are you you?
But I'm not here
to catalogue the men's personalities.
I like them. But each of us has moved on
many times, when _______ suddenly died
the games went on with hardly a mention
and his name has since been forgotten.
But even this, absolute mortality
of not just our bodies but our names
and souls is not what I came
to talk about. Yesterday, between games,
I asked Joe how Molly his daughter likes
the high school. He mounted an impassioned
defense of reading as the indispensable skill
when I suggested math, the scientific method
and history are essential too.
Also between games
Bob diffidently asked why my kids are bald.
I was moved by the care he took to satisfy
his curiosity, concerned the subject might be
difficult. He's a political science teacher so
I took the opportunity to ask What ails
the republic? Of course I answered myself
wanting mostly to hear myself talk about Iraq
and how empire is selfcorrecting. For once I was amusing
I thought, treating the subject with a light touch
heretofore lacking.
But none of this is what I came to say.
A new guy, very big and strong, a
bulldozer under the boards with a good
outside shot if needed got into a dispute
with the other Bob who likes to tell people
what to do sometimes, about an offensive
foul Bob called which we almost never do.
The new guy said If you can't take it don't
play under the boards which is what I say
when I'm pissed and don't give a shit.
Bob said You've been pushing and shoving me
all day. I said He doesn't want to be
pushed and shoved which got a wry
smile out of Danny as I put the ball in play.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow  Year Posted 2015

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Math Poem

2, like all primes, fascinates
2^3, it seems, comes to eight
3, the next prime right in line,
3^2 [2 primes] = nine,
^2: Exponentiated,
x3: multiplicated.
Still it's 9?vindicated
Copyright © Paul Geiger  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

Deep Low Math
Divide the 1st number by nothing, Undefined,
That’s the meaning of TRUE LOVE,
Even the highest integer in a form of positive,
Cannot explain why this thing is greater than any negative
When you expand this formula of “X”, and why?
Why this “X” is = to 1 + 1 is = to us?
What is our common factor? Let me tell you in a simplest form,
Our destiny is collinear and coplanar
Parallel wherever we are
In the start, connection is at the end of Hypotenuse,
Problems make us become variables,
Inequalities make us strong,
But I found out that ½ of my heart fits yours, I chose,
Our life is an equation, we connect like a proportion
Whether our time acts like an acute,
100 % I will give it all just for you,
Our hands intersect with each other
Its so perpendicular as our eyes knew it better
And as I push the number 8 into the ground
It became infinity the sign of my heart
76 + 67 is in commutative Property
Where N is = to 143
These are words that I just want to say,
Let us make a perfect love story using the square root
Of the prime tree, as I say,
Please let me stay with you, Forever and ever, EVERYDAY
Copyright © jhucel del rosario  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

One plus one plus one does not equal two
For me it adds up to heartache and tears
What's going to happen to me and you
If the third one should suddenly appear
I was not very good in math at school
I'm certain the math teacher would agree
The numbers don't add up, but I'm a fool
For thinking the answer is two not three
Tell me what I'm supposed to tell my heart
When it finds out and one heart becomes two
The heartache will surely break it apart
Then the tears will come from me and not you
Sometimes equations look easy at first
And if you add too quickly you'll get hurt
an original poem by the Poemdog Daniel Turner
Copyright © Daniel Turner  Year Posted 2016

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Math Poem

Math is great
At some point I could get.
How could I get rid
When it is definitely a need?
I prefer writing an editorial
Than solving a perfect trinomial.
Math is a trial,
Oh! This is crucial.
Math has magic,
But sometimes it's tragic.
Striving for Mathematics,
Optimistic in finding tactics.
When it reach high quantity,
It challenges brain's quality.
Favor with Property of Equality,
Struggling with Conditional Inequality.
Math is a distress,
But it is a need for success.
Sometimes it makes me cry,
But it doesn’t stop me to try.
Struggles are enough,
I now ought to laugh.
Need to be even,
Thinking of my favorite number seven.
Math is use everyday
Though I deny to say.
It makes my brain an alephnull,
Yet it doesn't makes me dull.
Solving with optimistic
The problems in arithmetic.
Math I learned to love
With the help from above.
Copyright © Rhiza Periwperiw  Year Posted 2016

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Math Poem

They try to give math a happier spin
"How many times can this number go in?"
As if you are part of some numerical clique
Because you can find a square root extra quick.
It's always "add up," time's up," "divide up,"
That keeps me looking down, counting down, feeling . . . yup.
I can't find the angle for a celebration
When numbers and math are in the equation!!!
2/6/2016
Copyright © Cindi Rockwell  Year Posted 2016

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Math Poem

Two lines intersect
an inherently
unstable situation.
Parallel lines
are better
each proceeding
separately in
the same direction
balanced by forces
of attraction/repulsion.
But if these change
the lines diverge
or intersect (see above).
Sometimes two
intersecting lines
may align
with a third
forming a
triangle.
Which is stable
but generally
disapproved of.
Very occasionally
two lines may meet
end to end
and curve
to form
a circle
which is
One.
Copyright © Dave Will  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

five steps, and i’m near you
one touch is all you got to do
not one thing you’re gonna say
just that one touch is okay.
a dozen of matters to talk
just one word would make it fine
worried six times and more
i could only listen to four.
a room for fifty, a seat for one
you let them all in, and you’re left with none
in one heart, for two people
one would rejoice, the other would struggle.
for places and times and faces
that’s just all for one
never give in for another
if you got none under cover.
Copyright © Cherie Gozon  Year Posted 2013

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Math Poem

Integers are whole numbers that can be positive.
In contrast, their values can also be negative.
On the xaxis, natural numbers are to the right of the zero.
On the vertical yaxis, they are above the zero as far as they can go.
You may think this question is moot:
With a negative number, how do you find its square root?
In a quadratic formula, if the discriminate is less than zero,
there are no real roots. So where do you go?
This put many early mathematicians in a quandary.
Somebody came along and invented numbers that are imaginary.
Copyright © Robert Pettit  Year Posted 2014

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Math Poem

One of Life’s indisputable facts:
Government reserves the right to tax;
And tho’ they waste far more than they should,
It’s supposedly done “for the common good.”
Economists use the word “propensity,”
Just a fancy word for “odds”, you see:
The odds you’ll save, the odds you’ll spend,
And how many Tax Dollars those odds will rend.
The basis for U.S. government budgets is “Total Tax Dollars Collected”;
And any overtures to reduce those collections are summarily rejected;
And should a source of taxes have declined or dissipated,
Other taxes are increased and/or new taxes are created.
Many, if not most, of these taxes are “regressive”.
That means their actual impact on income is “progressive”...
But “progressive” in a very negative way.
Relatively speaking, the Less you make, the More you pay.
Whether you make it or sell it, need it or want it, Congress will tax it;
And, once a tax is on the books, Congress has zero “propensity” to relax it.
Congresses, Federal and State, love to tax Luxury and Sin;
Smoking Sinners have had their taxes raised again and again and again.
Cigarette taxes are frequently raised, the “claim” is to drive users to quit;
But Truth is measured in Billions in taxes, so we know supporters are “full of it.”
Meantime, Nonsmokers reap many benefits, while Smokers foot the bill;
And if that should change, Nonsmokers would taste a financially “bitter pill.”
Taxed and taxed and taxed some more, but not yet into submission,
Smokers could shift their tax burden to Nonsmokers…without their permission.
Yes, what if one Fateful day, those Smoking Sinners, Each and Every one,
Just put them down and said, “I quit.”; said en masse, “We’re done!”
Congresses would be clamoring to derive Billions in Taxes elsewhere,
At first, Nonsmokers may not realize the impact they’re about to bear.
When an industry dies, businesses and people’s jobs are lost…it’s true;
But all those Tax Dollars must come from somewhere...the likes of me and you.
So righteous, whining Nonsmokers maintained their hue and cry.
Ever pushing Congresses to tax those Smoking Sinners… tax them ‘til they die;
But after quitting, ExSmokers would pay less, while NonSmokers would pay more.
Guess Nonsmokers didn’t think far enough ahead, didn’t really know the score.
All those dreary antismoking ads, many of which falsified the cause,
Would disappear. And what about all the useless antismoking laws?
Instead of Nonsmokers not liking Smokers, ExSmokers would serve instead.
"The bastards are costing me money. I wish they had smoked 'til they were dead."
So, Exsmokers would be getting healthier and spending far less;
And may be cause for some Nonsmokers’ financial distress.
While they ruefully pay more, Exsmokers' pocket books will attest
By reminding Nonsmokers daily......the Last Laugh is Best.
Copyright © Robert Candler  Year Posted 2014
