Best Mathematical Poems
Can you count the times you’ve crossed me
And divide it by the times you disrespected me
Then multiply that by the times you hurt me
And come up with a figure?
Relatively speaking it’s a simple equation
Resulting in a drastic re-calculation of the outcome.
Can you give me the square root of the problem
That started this whole conundrum in the first place
And tally up the results and give me a statistical
Analysis comparing the amount of times you
Left me wondering why I’m on this earth
Or if I’m not worthy of trust?
I’m sure the answer would be skewed resulting
In the necessity to rethink the control group.
I believe the right course of action would be to
Figure out the base and height of the love triangle
You thought I wouldn’t notice, and in case you didn’t know
It, I’m pretty good at trigonometry.
Cause for me, who came into this problem with
Total devotion and a faithful trust, this doesn’t
Add up.
so last night I was just sittin there, right?
and outta nowhere this huge, like,
demonic-millipede devil-thing
was right there on my computer desk, like wriggling towards me -
- ...well not nearly as bad as YOUR desk always was - oh my!
that thing was a pile of travesty!
- yeah yeah. anyway,
the thing about it was how random it was,
ya know, like, both of us were just doin’ our own thing,
then BAM!,
we were staring at each other.
- I just sat there really still.
I wanted a peaceful resolution to the whole thing-
- ...but yeah, I guess I knew that wasn't going to happen.
So at some point it just freaked out,
weaving around the dishes
and papers or whatever.
So I waited for a clear shot
and when it was near the side-edge, near the book-
- yep, your old bookcase,
which, I might add, you NEVER USED…
- so ok, I eyed it up, ya know,
built my courage, slipper in hand,
and when I attacked
it was a direct hit
and this thing just went nuts,
like spazzed out, twisting around on itself
and, get this, it actually JUMPED across the gap and went somewhere in there...
- I know! and I was NOT about to go poking around
for some vengeful godzilla bug!
melt me with laser eyes or something…
- …but, yeah, isn’t that just a horrible feeling? like,
is it still out there?
is it alive?
it's gonna come and get me when I'm sleeping or something, ugh.
- …but the thing is, ya know, devil bug or not,
I actually hope that it didn’t suffer.
- …Yeah, I mean, did it deserve it? No.
It was just this unfortunate situation that neither of us could control.
- ...you know what it reminded me of when it jumped?
remember those mathematical knots we were so into? - ...
…yes. Before you left.
My mind is a fragile terrarium—
each breath fogs the pane with memory.
I watch myself moving inside,
an echo pacing the perimeter of pain.
Hyper-awareness hums like a live wire,
every sound—a warning, every shadow—a test.
Survival becomes the only rhythm I know,
the pulse of endurance mistaken for life.
Half alive, I measure the days by tremors,
trauma’s fingerprint pressed into thought.
They called it normal, this ache that never sleeps,
they called it growing, I call it ghosting.
My body remembers what my voice forgets,
the hypothalamus—its keeper of storms.
Neurons whisper in static and code,
translating terror into muscle, into bone.
I have stood behind this glass so long
that reflections have learned my name.
My smile, rehearsed for the living,
hides a tremble the mirror can’t unsee.
But I am tired of being the specimen,
the observer, the observed, the cage.
I want the window to open—not shatter,
to let air in without letting myself spill out.
Healing is rebellion against reflex,
choosing stillness when the body says run.
Choosing love when the mind recalls harm,
choosing now when memory insists on then.
I am learning to live behind this thick glass,
until the day I no longer need the barrier.
Until touch no longer threatens to burn,
and breath writes peace on the other mirrored side.
I decide not to worry about the parallelness
Of the tangents to the circles of our life story
The equation of the curve of my initial decision
Of you being my number tan45 was differentiated
As the union of your sets and conditions of your answers
Of your reply did not intersect with the tangent of the circle of my love
I integrated my mind and heart
So as to eliminate your love
But eliminating substituted the simultaneous equation involving you and I
Using completing two squares in solving the quadratic equation
Involving you was impossible
The almighty formula came into sight
When you factorized the algebra of you mind and heart
Making the line of your evergreen heart
Intersect perpendicularly at the center
Of the diameter of my life journey
You have rotated my life 180degrees clockwise
Words would remain caged as her eyes gazed at mine
She resided in my Maths and Science book back in Grade nine
She visited me in my sleep; my dreams were no longer mine
According to my mom, my grades were no longer fine
She solved simultaneous equations for me with her exquisite smile
Took over my Trigonometry, I was Sine while she became Cosine
Theta became love to this heart of mine
Selfishness took over; the strategy was to make her mine
Formed new Laws of Physics, the attraction I could no longer hide
Dark brown watery eyes that made my feet lose a straight line
She remained the X Axis and I the Y Axis that never intersected her line
I could claim that she eventually became mine
but gravity took over as this love intertwined
I fell so hard but I was fortunate to be rescued by this pen of mine
I guess she will never know, Phumlani Mthethwa
They are bilingual,
fluent in a paradoxical
intersection of a line and a cloud.
Each language has a distinct cadence,
a unique inflection.
They can jump over the discontinuity,
the differential between
derivative and derivative,
integral and integral.
They put the rhythm in "logarithm"
and could remove the "can't" from "secant"
if words were defined
at the point of intersection.
MATHEMATICAL EQUALITY OF SEX
In a scholarly rag the other day
absurdity came blazing in my way--
drivel, i knew but tripped my mind
(like a shoe stumbled over, left behind)
"Lovers Lie"--a fact kids know--
but now deemed science--books say so--
the fact amused me--made me pause
was why it mattered--what's the cause?
when asked about love acts and mates
(tho chastity's unhinged it gates)
both males and females fib--it's said
(tho now--who keeps the score in bed?)
males multiply for grander fame
while females play division's game....
which proves--with textbook certainty--
we've reached--in Math--equality!
V. Anderson-Throop
2013
My homework has many an equation,
Teacher says math is a good foundation;
It all seems like a puzzle,
Squiggles that make my mind frizzle,
Oh please tell- when is summer vacation?
___________________________
March 8, 2016
Poetry/Limericks/Mathematical Equations
Copyright Protected, ID 16- 765-437-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Two activities I love have a similarity,
To experience and conjecture in verse,
And to explore limits of certainty.
Rhyme and meter, whether wordy or terse,
Enact seeing freshly, banning banality.
Math proofs are finding a needle in a hay source,
Needing imagination to reach finality.
Many school veterans curse,
“Algebra is not daily reality!”
“Trigonometry makes life worse!”
But poetry and math have a commonality,
They both tease out how the world works,
Neither rewards conventionality,
Both work by seeing the diverse.
I admit rote formulas draw my enmity,
Whether in word or number universe.
I’ve found in sonnets and theorems an equality,
If you disagree, you can rightfully call this poem a hearse.
He, She, they, them, their or choices .
I wonder if your world is round or maybe not because probably your mind is cubical , you are a dice, it is as similar as the dice given as an example of cube , a cube which is closed , has defined corners and one measurement perhaps it would have been better if we could deter to these bold and times old Indian fonts of sterotyped examples and ask for more pentagons and circles which were ***** , just like me .
You love explaining area and mensuration with examples of a gender entangled bangle , a match box that dosent match me , and an unwise dice but little did you realise that you have yourself become a box of typical undynamic identities , closed and formalised with prejudiced formulas of measurement .
So I want to switch your camera from portrait view to a panoramic view to notice that I am a decagon , difficult to the vocabulary of a polygon and unacceptable to the category of human.
Maybe I know that now you are old enough and you've learned about this ***** trans decagon like me but still when you hear about polygons and humans , your answers are straight line segments of triangles & squares and straight people whose gender binary is fair , well unfair to the notions of identity which remains undefined for not just me but also you swinging between choices of being extremely feminine on some days and masculine on others .
You see the problem with this arrangement is confusion of building a glass wall of hatred for people we find strange to our little knowledge of normal , so we assume them to be an abnormal comfort smelter , stone pelter , destined to give us a discomforting experience of flawed birth , flawed to our little knowledge of what's correct .
Them , their , he , She , her aren't identities but preferred pronouns which is a very basic question out of our mean calculative binary syllabus , but a question meant to be inculcated in our cubical boxed syllabus because earth is round and endless and so are my choices .
Dear Love,
I may not be good with
words
because my English
is not fluent, but What I feel
deep
inside my heart
persuades me to express
myself
mathematically. Every time
I see u, u
simultaneously divide my
life into
two equations. Because my
feelings for u cross -
multiply on a daily basis, u
inspire
me to be greater
than zero. Your smile keeps
me in
touch with the
special angles of my heart.
You
make me feel relaxed on
the X-
axis where Y is equals to
zero. When I come
across u, I feel like I'm
turning like
a parabola and
meet you on the turning
point
where I can utter 3
words to you. Words that
describe the mid point
of my heart. Without u my
heart is
like a semi circle.
Because
u stole the other half. I will
appreciate if we could come
together and solve for x so
that we both
stop to be vertically
opposite and
start to be
corresponding angles. I
know u r
intelligent enough to
understand that when it
comes to
trigonometrical
world, we r all positive in
the first
quadrant.love you so much
Space is final frontier
Like through ocean in age of sail
Spaceships cruse through space
Of course some dangers they also face
Math is fundamental to everything
Whoever possesses most of knowledge is a king
But math that we don’t know exists in abstract
And there is really no end to depth of its impact
One would not be incorrect to say
That in any day
Math and reality are only remotely connected
But that is to be expected
Everything that exists can be counted by math
But far beyond that grows math
True limit of math is beyond abstract
And there is no end to its true impact
If to math something would be
What to steam engine is spaceship that in dreams we see
The person who understands it would be
Able to do much more than live indefinitely
Life and maths have a strong connection,
Love is just like an equation.
If not solved, both could become frustration,
Thus both of them need a solution.
Start solving the equation,
Of two hearts, make an addition.
Subtract all the complications,
And then make an Integration.
Solve for 'X' and then you will know why,
Stay together and don't divide.
Be happy and multiply,
and if you don't..they'll make you cry!
MATHEMATICAL PREACHER LADY
don’t understand me
no numeral of quantity
preacher lady looking
at accusations in a book
saying infinity is proof
of a mathematical sacrifice
that saved humanity
if only we could get back
to three and then zero
says quantum physics
is why we have clocks
and space shuttles
slipping through cracks
in the fabrics of blankets
claims blankets are white
masses, says I’m mass
the tree is mass, birds
are mass and a mass
is a spot that breaks
into a speck so small
my car is invisible to god
claims i don’t pray right
because i do it with my
hands and my speech
is imperfect, can’t talk
to god with a slur or slang
says i need to be prized
and perfect like a precious
moment figurine, demands
i stop calling him home boy
he’s not your boy, throws
a piece paper at me with
nothing on it but a squiggle
in the middle of a circle,
claims it represent life
and who i used to be
when i had a brain
and understood counting
was invented for more
than money, need to crunch
the numbers to understand
my sister is the same as me
though she died in a hospital,
tells me i’m better than nobody
but I act like a stranger hiding
my divinity code under a hat
Translation unknown
Translates to...
Understated home
Undecided to condone the manifestations
"Translation?"
Expect the unexpected
Expectation
Word to the wise, no rule to be to great'n
Unleash and treat it like multiplication
Triple down the system of the equation
Confusion
Placement
Solution
-Jess