Long Math Poems
Long Math Poems. Below are the most popular long Math by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Math poems by poem length and keyword.
Nature can be expressed in terms of math
'Tis full of quantities and relations
Bounded by the law of interactions
Endpoint implies our dream; segment, our path
There are as many symbols that replace
As there are things in this wonderful place
A plus signifies accumulation
Of things we desire and of friends we need
Constancy of amount of which will lead
To a process called multiplication
A plus is the most legal for the mind
'Cause it never keeps anything behind
But everything has to undergo change
We're bound by this law of the universe
That we can see a thing and its reverse
Just as a domain produces its range
Our gaining results another's losing
Hating this we'll find us violating
Nature is as compliant as we are
We have a minus which means subtraction
Of something from our accumulation
Like seeing true friends going home afar
For memory 'tis the most illegal
Putting this sign between minds is lethal
To Eric and Michael
Western natons lead, womens emancipation duration
Contraception..Anti-creation wealthier relating makimg
Less, so lower fabrication false elation.' House prices
Prized possesions ownership rising 70s 80s 90s got
Into the naugtys, now deflation a dragging serration fraying
Politicans are braying, demographors are playing trying to
Be God, I see its also playing; many billions still dying.'
Starvation intesifiying as with insects as susteance some are vying?
Farm land left lying; fallow..what are they just before us lie-ing?
Italy Japan France Britian Germany Ukraine depopulation decrying
I see, so where is the growth? Is it stable other countries
Can they boast? at the very most ? Is gaslighting? And ghosting? are
Its proponents false hosting ? Claims at odds I would see in the
Glare of reality.'
An adolescent of the 60s,
now nearly sixty years later,
I still at least half trust
thirty and under agree
If you and I
are not part of our cooperative solution,
then we are part of Earth's competing subclimate problem,
pattern,
economic anti-ecological policy,
political bicameral bipolar procedure...
In fact,
or so I subjectively feel
is objectively pointed fact,
I could agree
this is precisely
an important half-balancing dipolar truth,
Because
if we are part of Earth's cooperative health intent,
motivation, both spiritual and natural
raison d'etre,
holonic gestalt,
then we are also not not competing co-operators,
as LeftBrain logically calculating
as RightBrain silently, holonically, listening
for non-violent co-operating potential;
Which is why I feel as fact
when +1 is not(not) 0-squared egalitarian,
then, at last, and least imbalanced,
we are getting some co-operative bilateral ego/eco-binary where,
phallic-1 and orifice-0 icons
following patriarchal and matriarchal behavioral passion powers
Both ego-here and eco-there
no longer quite so either/or square
LeftBody v RightMind, and Wing, and Wall
competitively dividing future opportunities
for health care circle giving
and receiving ZeroZone cooperatively owned
and managed
recycling wealth of binomial opportunity,
Like a universal patriarchal capitalist Right
bowing namaste with
uni-dipolarian matriarchal sacred communion Left
grace- and peace-full,
which feels awesomely like a square diamond
rational polynomial fact to measure
in a potentially flowing kind
of fleeting non-violent wave-function
ultra-violet brilliant
reverse dualdark
non-hierarchically inclusive
WholeSystem True
HolySpirit/Nature
ElderRight/NewerLeft ZeroZone healthy Life
whole warm womb
wealthy wet-flowing
wiki-nomial WuWay.
Spectral light resounding arcs,
healing atheistic justice,
positively bow toward resonant
pantheistic patterned peace
and negatively bend
dissociating dissonant monotheistic trauma.
So too,
wealthy sounding polyphonic cadence
can feel drawn
toward deeply panentheistic
meaning-fullness
Despite no healthy polypathic narrative
widely polymathic democratic speed
of inspiraling light
and fractal-powered purpose
When justice shows up
I don't have to solve your world,
nor you resolve my mind
to body shows peace cadence up
maybe isn't quite so marching down.
Just grow out capital His-story.
Throw out whatever wealth-eulogies we can find,
they'll never change our warring minds.
Justice grows unshout out
unpeace changing calm
wise-womanologies.
Peace flows up
Down deep
where old whores have discovered luck
of justice so blind she'll never He be
come slippery wet between our beats;
hungry peace flows out.
Just stand up
Down sliding stairs of glaring need,
gliding prayers of blaring greed,
crying slayers of darkened creed,
slying players of slutty breed,
flying nayers of righteous deeds
Let just Us free
Earth's cosmic karmic bleed
Flow fueling
light speed resounding spirals
associate bowing toward resonance,
patterned persistent polycultured peace
unbendingly recombines
disturbing dissonant pleas
resisting anthropocentric trauma
on justly humbled knees.
On the first day of classes, everyone was excited
To meet old friends, though new ones could be sighted
Old or new she welcomed us warmly
Wearing a smile, what a sight so lovely!
She was like our second mother
When things got rough or even harder
She knows when to be carefree or strict
Depending on the class' unpredictable flick
In the way you taught us, only one thing's evident
A method of teaching, a tactic, an element
You do not just teach and blabber all day
But you made us understand everything all the way
In times when other people would shun us down
You were the sole creature who'd lift us from the ground
You drove the mounds of doubt away
And found our courage that had gone astray
We're afraid that this poem's coming to an end
But we hope you'll gather what we mean to portend
We thank God for giving us an exceptional guardian
Happy Teacher's Day, our great mathematician.
____________________________________________
For contest: An expression of love (03-14-17)
Sponsored by: Frank Herrera
Shared 3rd place
For contest: To Honor My Hero (08-30-22)
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Shared 1st place
I’m pretty sure cringe is the most modern poetic style
Med-school freshman year is over - finals are over,
and if they aren’t already forgotten they’re fading fast
- my relief feels like achievement.
We haven’t gotten our grades yet, but I’m full
of aggressive patience and prom optimism.
One suspects the grades will arrive soon, but if they’re bad,
I hope they’ll have the decency to wait a couple more weeks.
The thing is, I’m no longer spiraling!
My moods changed from high-anxiety to summer itinerary.
Peter (my bf) and I are swiping-right on freedom, messy as that is.
Our mission is to re-write the entirely accurate school-year emotional-math,
from studies 100, boyfriends 0.
No more lectures, labs, and computer screen-time malaise,
we’ll tackle the ‘loneliness epidemic’ in a hundred ways
- because freedom always begins as a decision.
We’re on our way to the sunny-fair beaches of Heraclee
- on the French Riviera, where heaven’s in easy reach
and life can unwind, unburdened by consequence.
Our mornings will be sun splashed and surf-adjacent - I say,
“If youth must be wasted, make it a littoral squandering.”
In the evenings we’ll chase the dusk on rented bikes,
and watch the local kids flying 3D, sculptured kites.
There’s a rickety old merry-go-round that we can ride all night
on garish, multicolored sea creatures from B-movie features.
Busy Saint Tropez is right down the street (11 miles)
where there’s a rainbow ferris-wheel lit by 160,000 LEDs,
Hawaiian ices, neon lights, dance contests, and cotton candy.
It’s very festival-like, and while music spills from local bars,
we’ll sip umbrella’d concoctions under the stars.
I’ll be wearing cheaply purchased, beach-merch tank-tops,
that I didn’t own last week and I’ll donate in the fall,
with prada silk-mini-skirts so short that they’re practically earrings
- no fashion Interventions please.
.
.
Songs for this:
Hawt Heart by Born At Midnite
Celebration Lover by Chuck Senrick
Smash by Born At Midnite
.
.
littoral = seashore
Patient planets on their wheels revolve
they answer not for the treachery of their tides
But we’re made guilty of our own disasters
and we’ll hang by our own lazy geometry.
Our very own hapless crookedness
is reason enough for our bankruptcy
Oh, we may pretend and invent kinder tales
but in quiet rooms, in privacy, let us confess
that we, ourselves, are the choking strychnine,
and the muscles controlling the bone-white hand
if we all become handsome skeletons
who lack marked grave stones
let’s call it karma.
.
.
A song for this
I Remember the Sun by XTC
Invisible Sun by The Police
The calendar says the Seventies
were fifty years past,
but my body insists otherwise.
Time froze at the Millennium—
Y2K the great taxidermist—
so I carry the decades like pelts,
still warm on my shoulders.
Look: born in ’73,
I entered the Eighties at five(ish) years old,
emerged at fifteen—
a whole decade was two-thirds of my life,
so fat and weighted it swallowed me whole.
The Nineties, thinner, only 40 percent—
already life was teaching subtraction.
Each decade thereafter diminishing,
a ration cut with sand,
until the present felt cheap by comparison:
the 2020s may last ten years,
but they are only a fifth of my life,
a sliver,
a slice of bread thinner than memory.
Do the math:
a year in the Eighties was worth
3.6 years of now—
no wonder the past hounds me
like a dog let off leash,
no wonder it still smells so close,
like HDPE plastic, one letter away
from hope, like ozone in a strip-mall arcade.
Maybe that’s why we live in compression:
why childhood sounds louder upon inspection
its decibelocity
more intense than any boardroom
meeting or election cycle,
why decades collapse into the scale of rooms.
Time isn't lines, it's fractions—
denominators swelling beneath us
memory shrinking into numerators
clutched, mere relics.
Still we argue—
Seventies, thirty or fifty years ago?
I’ll take the math of a body over dusty glyphs,
the ratios of wonder over history’s clock.
Because the past enlarges
the way mirrors do in funhouses—
each reflection insisting we are
closer to each other, closer to all of this,
than we appear.
I heard you from ear to ear
You jeer at me with selfish cheer
You put me down, my darksome, dreary dear
Now, I shed a single tear, you idiotic fire that do sear
My heart and its beats of utmost fear;
My mind likes to gently or roughly veer
I was faced with life's nostalgic, narcissistic nightmare
I can’t even look at myself in the blood-drenched mirror
I’m scared of who I've become 'round there and here
I’m still waiting patiently for positivity to draw near
I’m waiting for negativity to disappear
I also want sheer forgiveness to appear
I have become stronger and a champion emotionally for many-a-year
My dear, you chased away my cluttered conscious from head to rear
My dear, you are so coy and naïve…so, put on bravery's gigantic gear
Come on, keep up with me or you’ll be falling behind quickly and steer
Through the waters of Aphradere
Through the waters of Aphradere
Through the waters of Aphradere
Then, suddenly, I see drunkards, heading my way…they had one too many-a-beer
They are up in Cloud thirty-seven and some are in Cloud twenty-four…three times seven equals twenty-one – doing this math in poetry is mighty *****,
My wandering deer…
My wandering dear….
Steer through the waters of Aphradere
Through the waters that draw ever-so-near
Some say you are lost
If you are not found
On their ground
Some think you are blind
If you do not find
What they find
I am an atheist who believes
The universe is a tapestry
Not a thread
The science to chart the stars
Is but a celestial church
That medicine and vaccines
Are answered prayers
That communities
Can save each other
That math and music
Language and learning
Rebuilding destruction
And regretting a wrong
Are inherent miracles
That to plant a tree
Water a garden
Kiss a scar
Soothe a bruise
Give a smile
Hug a sorrow
Cook a meal
Play a song
Clasp a hand
Bandage a cut
Wipe a tear
Hear a need -
Is divine
I believe the soul of nature
Is sacred
and a rainbow's refraction
Is all the more radiant
For the formula it contains
I believe the finitude of life
Makes a more precious day
And, to my friends of other faiths
I believe - we can meet halfway.
4/27/20
(this was inspired by a poem I read by Anil Deo called Any Athiests out there - thank you for your kind response to my novella-of-a-comment, Anil!)