Best Numbers Poems
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
When I was young, I noticed
Many adults stopped aging at 39.
Had something to do with Jack Benny
And trying to hold back time.
Then I noticed something else.
They often spoke of retiring at 65,
And many of them seemed to hope
They might still be alive.
The difference came to 26,
A number I knew very well.
The number of letters in the alphabet
We use to print and write and spell.
Then it occurred to me,
For folks holding youth so dear,
Just add a letter to 39
Each and every year.
39A would be 40,
39Z would be 65.
After that, start letters over again
Or just be glad you’re still alive.
So, you see, it’s easy
To forever be 39.
You may fool yourself & others,
But you can’t fool Father Time.
You don’t know this but
we’re all ISBN’s. At birth,
we’re tattooed across our asses
with barcodes, ID tags, social security numbers.
The only doctors allowed
to perform this surgical move
were trained in suits and sunglasses,
were handcuffed to computer suitcases,
held galas in mansions in the hills
of Virginia, roamed secretly through tunnels
beneath Abe Lincoln’s feet, they infiltrated
every hospital, mandated staff to hand over
the key cards. Don’t be alarmed.
Chocolate brownies can still
hold good dreams, peanuts, and marijuana.
This information should not stop you,
you wondered before about those
seven digits printed across the tops of your pay stubs,
didn’t you? And the 48906 signature on every document
from your university.
Yes, you see now. All along,
that tattoo on your soul numbers destiny:
one of the numbers stands for the birthday
of your child, one for the day your parents will find
cancer sinking its teeth in their osteoperostic bones,
and one lists the street address of the building
you will die in. The hospital’s phone number
is merely a set of numbers. Ask them
what they’ve done to you, and they’ll shrug
their white-collar shoulders.
To view this poem on my blog, visit http://wordsareaneed.blogspot.com/2014/12/lucky-numbers-2-10-24-65-93.html.
Unlike the number one which stands as one straight line,
the number I am thinking of supports three other lines on top of it,
and these three other lines are also straight.
We see no curving lines like which appear in numbers
zero, two, three, five , nine, and in double-bubble eight!
Number seven has one short line jutting from its tall leg,
but the number I am thinking of
on just one leg is balancing three lines of equal length,
which if you were to finish them off, would form a perfect square.
Fair and square, this number means stability.
It’s safety, security and strength.
How strong is its foundation to offer the calmness
we would find inside the walls of our own homes!
Embodying the number of those things we most depend on -
our seasons, our directons, and the elements -
how special is this number I describe.
A number of spirituality too, it stands unique among
the single-digit numbers.
Feb. 10, 2020
For Juliet Ligon's What's in a Number Poetry Contest
Nineteen nosey newts nudged nasty nautical nannies
Eighteen eager ermines excitedly edged everyone’s ego
Seventeen sacred slugs sat sideways searching seagulls
Sixteen slippery snails slid southwards sipping sangria
Fifteen flowery foxes fell forward fondling fuchsias
Fourteen frantic fleas froze fighting frightening fanatics
Twelve twiddling tigers told thirteen tasteless tales
Eleven elderly elephants embellished eighteen ebony earrings
Ten terrified tardy ticks tricked two thirsty Turkish tramps
Nine naughty nasal know-it-alls knew nothing nearing knowledge
Eight elastic earthworms echoed eighty edgy Egyptians
Seven solemn snakes slithered slowly sensing sunshine
Six sassy silk-moths sceptically squished spinach selfishly
Five funny fatties feared following fancy French fashion
Four fantastic faithful Finnish flies faked famous farcical facelifts
Three tenacious terriers thrilled twelve tipsy throbbing thespians
Two tireless Tanzanian tapirs tittle tattled tirelessly throughout Tuesday
One obedient oily octopus offered obnoxious orangutans oranges outrageously
I see numbers every where
Numbers here, numbers there
Numbers are amazing things
One, two, three, I like to sing
I use numbers for my car
When I need a new part
Numbers used to count my money
In the kitchen weighing honey
Builders use them in their trade
Tape measures already made
Nurse’s need them at the doc’s
Need to check your pulse with watch
Numbers, numbers every where
Numbers, numbers for us to share
We use numbers every day
We use numbers, when we play
There’s numbers on the buses
Numbers on our cars
Numbers on our mobile phones
Numbers in the stars
I see numbers every where
There on our planes in the air
These numbers seem so unique
I dream numbers when I sleep
God must be a mathematician
Creating numbers for addition
He likes to add and multiply
Dance with numbers till we fly
© Copyright KC.Leake
31st March 2015
All Rights reserved
A shade of clear caresses red
dabbed upon each aching edge
a sweetened birch lies ever near
await mere embers to appear
In holy rest her amber hue
a roseate glow paints such a view
gentle strokes do pass and glide
pure color beats and breathes inside
With light and shade a vision lives
in moves and shapes a feeling gives
a pensive air floats through each brush
as passion seeks her loving touch
The stars both numb and inspire,
awe either enraptures or terrifies.
The word ‘infinite’ becomes a conjectural sum
to be defined by pundits in bow ties
and star-crazed, white coated messiahs.
Tilt your head back on a cloudless night
feel the cold mathematical anesthesia
of the infinitesimal, not anything fathomable,
not even a reckoning in an unsolvable puzzle;
a nonplus that breeds only more numbers
until like a train calculations runs out of rails
to travel upon.
Each mental abacus
must be pre-set for incomprehension
and that beyond the tyranny of numbers
we can, in the end, count only ourselves in
and that is by no-means certain.
Met the first time and you blew my mind,
Hopefull you'll dial those numbers
Whenever you need me just come and see me or,
You can just dial those numbers
Talk to me slowly when I need you to console me,
After you dial those numbers
To me you were my baby you never would forsake me,
So we never had a problem with dialing those numbers
The spark was gone we left each other alone and,
Never again dialed those numbers
I see you and I just simply reply
"What happened to those precious numbers"
The numbers had a breakfast.
The numbers had a tea.
The numbers drew a line in the sand.
And none invited me.
I discovered later that it was a thought-out action.
For none of them thought I was a “proper” fraction.
There is a story within the journeÿ;
And there is a journey within the story.
Let the numbers both show and tell.
A 17 year old high school graduate
Went some 600 miles North
And stayed for 7 years.
6 jobs, 4 years of college,
2 years of marriage,
And 1 child born.
Returned to the South
And stayed for 4 years.
4 jobs and 1 child born.
Went 2000 miles West
And stayed for 43 years.
4 jobs, and 1 child born.
Returned to the South
4 years ago to retire
With his bride and
54 years of marriage.
When you add it all up,
The numbers are intertwined
With the journey and the story.
So far, by the numbers,
The totals come to 2751.
This number is history, and
The present numbers are yet
Unfolding. Mystery awaits.
But for now,
The story is not finished.
So the journey continues.
Death is a best friend
she visits often to dissolve old cells
tweak dioxyribonucleic acids
carrying silver sword and bamboo pipe
to draw breath, pointing to moon
caped in indigo velvet with hood
her whispers are silent breath on
white pillow
I invite her to sit on my bed
she admires an octagonal quilt red
removing her cape, accepting offering
of camomile tea, her eyes smiling hollows hyena, warrior, eagle, dung beetle
all at once, elegantly slow she settles
closer, fingering my ears, cold breezes
ripple down my legs
With sidelong glance she asks :
“So what is your claim to fame ?”
I reply : “I know not a name. Fame is
a shadowy flame, an orange-purple
one flickering to become lame.
All the same, I claim to be the highest
version of what Source intended
nothing more, nothing less.
This is free fame, oxygenated.
That is my game, if insane, let it not
be a shame, or a blame.”
Smiling, she asks next : “How have
you helped fellow humans ?”
I reply : “With Pluto Sun squared as
a dominant in my Chart, I undertook to
integrate escaping gloom into Light for
Self and others. As God granted Ketu
long periods of rulership over my form
I pulped Self in backwaters, where
angels fear to tread, to be a Presence
for fellow humans.”
Her hollow eyes with high cheekbones
move closer to my face. Sipping from floral teacup, fingers spindly, she asks :
“How erect will your spine be before
THE ALL ?”
I reply : “Not as erect as when I practiced kundalini and hatha yoga, though I detect
zero regrets, bereft of debts, slate clean
as an uncooked bean.”
Laughing, she replies that Divinity
will be pleased with my use of poetics
whispering : “Know that your spine will
revert to 21 years when I draw your
breath into mine, to gently carry to
Divine. You will sway on your way
into a ringlet bay of rosy everlasting days.
17 more good cheer years, hear my Dear.”
I watch quick footsteps across the
garden path. A thoughtform follows
slender caped back : “My claim to fame
is to be what HE-SHE desires me to be
~ Co-Creator of my own destiny.”
Next time Death visits, I will word it this way.
__________________
*[new form: L&N : Letters and Numbers]
Integers are whole numbers that can be positive.
In contrast, their values can also be negative.
On the x-axis, natural numbers are to the right of the zero.
On the vertical y-axis, 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.
Foot on the gas
No time to slow down
Paddling harder
Not wanting to drown
Reaching for oxygen
Atmosphere's thinner
Still in the race
Eat the dust of the winner
Adventure not waining
For some skiing off piste
Soulful confessions?
Time to contact a priest
There's life in the old dog
Though the snow on the roof
Offers no clue
To the internal youth
Life can't be frantic
Should be leisured, not hurried
We're meant to be rested
Not hastened or worried
So whatever the day brings
It's a gift to be treasured
Your age is just numbers
Not how life should be measured
This is probably the first second time
On a third bases I have had a fourth thought
On my fifth victorious experience.
My victory proves that numbers don't lie.
Since the sixth sense
Is not found on Seventh Heaven.
As we wish for an eighth day
As part of the weekend
For we are doomed on Mondays
Like 9th/11
Deja vu is the tenth occurrence of victory
Utter wonderful words on Twelfth night
With no fear shake your spear on Friday the 13th
No Jason about it
Don't be sad about it, be gay.
No February 14th in my life
Hopefully in 2015
Then my life will be sweet sixteen
Or super seventeen
Then am legally 18
Get married at nineteenth
Then its goodbye to the teens
But I am still stuck in the 20th century
Cos that's where the true meaning of life is left
And on right my 21st Birthday I got the perfect key
The key to open up my door to the 21st Century.
Its all in the numbers of life.