Long Nau Poems
Long Nau Poems. Below are the most popular long Nau by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nau poems by poem length and keyword.
#84
TEN UP
10^0
Ten to the zero is really just one,
positive power, its a whole, not a part.
We don’t move from the decimal,
it’s just where we start.
10^3
Ten cubed, or a kilo,
when dealing in drugs.
It’s a measure in metrics,
it’s the math of the thugs.
10^6
Ten to the sixth, or one million we say,
a number so big, you truly will cringe.
It’s the needed storeage for data,
we’ll use to stream in a binge.
10^9
Ten to the ninth! A billion or look...
it’s near the wealth of Bill Gates.
He’s fifty times this base and exponent,
let’s buy his stock at the lowest rates.
10^12
Ten to the twelfth, a trillion, so great!
In the Lascaux caves with ancient heart,
it’s the number of years,
since they painted this art.
10^15
Ten to the fifteenth, a quadrillion for scale,
one hundred seventy light-years, is this.
We could travel to Kappa Andromedae b,
a Super Jupiter planet, we’d not wanna miss.
10^18
Ten to the eighteenth, just a quintillion!
It’s all for the counting in our niche,
in molecules, for one drop of water,
or gains of sand on one beach.
10^ 21
Ten to the twenty-first, or sextillion, not less,
while counting this high to figure it out.
It’s the stars in the universe,
in total, on their misty nebula route.
10^24
Ten to the twenty-fourth, septillion the count.
It’s a layer of dollars covering the ground,
a blanket of money, each inch of the earth,
a kilometer thick, and easily found.
10^-3 and falling...
Be glad I didn’t go this other way,
with negative exponents dividing so small.
A ten raised to three, going left to a minus,
to Planck scale and shrinking, to nothing at all.
Given the powers of ten for such ease,
dividing with negatives, or growing in positives.
You’ll find you won’t need to write so many zeros,
when grappling big numbers and their causatives.
When meeting the sciences with powers of ten,
then quite easily, you’ll see all the fun!
Writing scales of the universe, or quantum realms,
in plus or minus, starting with zero, or one.
-Edlynn Nau
©April 2, 2019
For anyone trying to understand huge numbers!
Inspired by Neil deGrasse Tyson, and by students trying to
make sense of scale.
A POLLEN PUFF WAND
Puff, puff, a pollen puff
That blows from a single rose;
The Field Fairy blonde, waves her gold wand
Constructed from giggles and bowes.
Butterflies know when springtime is late
And the moon is covered in cloud;
The Field Fairy blows a honey gold mist
Over flowers that bud in a crowd.
And Hummingbirds know, she takes from the stars
A glistening light for their wings;
She sprinkles the shimmering silvery stuff
So every hummingbird sings.
And the seedlings dance in burgeoning spring
As dressed little joys of green;
And the pollen puffs given soft pearly tuffs
Are tossed from this Field Fairy queen.
Puff, puff, wand of the fairy
That fell from a single rose;
Brilliant in light and conjuring flight,
Constructed from giggles and bowes.
Then the tree top knows as it rocks to-and-fro
To drop a warm breeze from the south,
So the dolphin doubles, can be sent foamy bubbles
That she blows from a straw through her mouth.
And the Forrest Fairies dance as April arrives
And the days grow emerald and new;
The Field Fairy touches lacy cobwebs
With the wet morning mist’s sticky dew.
Butterflies know when springtime is late
And the poppies sleep snuggled and proud,
The Field Fairy blows a honey gold mist
Over flowers that bud in a crowd.
Puff, puff, a pollen puff
That blows from a single rose;
Her wand splashing stardust with magical gust
Constructed from giggles and bowes.
And butterflies know she dreams of her field
With wildflowers waving hello;
Then wielding her magic for three baby chicks
That fell from her wand, plumed in yellow.
And the butterflies know when ice starts to melt
And the jubilant snow goes away,
The Field Fairy brings lanky spring colts
To buck and frisk in the hay.
Butterflies know when springtime is late
She’ll sail colors brilliant and loud;
The Field Fairy blows a honey gold mist
Over flowers that bud in a crowd.
By Edlynn Nau
© December 5, 2018
(For Lilah Hanlan on her first birthday)
LINES
We LINE up in traffic, or clear out the door,
And there are BEELINES we make, to the seashore.
Get mad and we're "DRAWING A LINE IN THE SAND,"
He USES A LINE when he asks for her hand.
You're in A LINE OF WORK, it's where you can shine:
LINEBACKERS, LINE EDITORS, and TECHIES ONLINE.
You're in the CHORUS of a big Broadway play,
Or dancing in LINES with the CORPS DE BALLET.
I'll "DROP YOU A LINE," when you're on vacation,
Get there by CRUISE LINE to your destination.
Fly on an AIRLINE, but you cannot fly straight,
In crossing a BORDERLINE, COASTLINE, or State.
In HEADLINES, OUTLINES, or given the GUIDELINES,
We calculate "READING BETWEEN ALL THOSE LINES."
DEADLINES and TIMELINES we must try to meet,
In interviews for FRONTLINE of the man on the street.
She is dressed to the nines, with the highest HEMLINE,
And her jeans are drying on a breezy CLOTHESLINE.
The kids throw their sneakers to the TELEPHONE LINES,
They're outside and swimming, their TAN LINES are signs.
CUT IN THE LINE, CROSS A LINE, this may give you trouble,
Especially the LINES that are yellow and double.
You don't want to FLATLINE, when you become very ill,
But you will, when you see LINES from your itemized bill.
There are the Maths that are used for LINES X, Y, and Z,
And a BASELINE to measure what we're trying to see.
We may draw PARALLEL LINES with our ruler in place,
These LINES actually meet when they curve out in space.
Then there's games with LIFELINES, we try not to burn,
There's LINES FROM A SCRIPT that we try hard to learn.
LINES READ in poetry, played in music, sung in song,
It's the memorized beauty of the gifts passed along.
Whatever THE LINE IS, that we find most adoring,
It's NOT keeping the order we find so abhorring.
We humans are LINEAR in most of our thinking,
It's the CIRCLES and CURVES that'll drive us to drinking.
By Edlynn Nau
© February 9, 2016
Quantum Glyphs
A particle’s not a particle,
a wave is not a wave.
It’s more or less equations,
of the way that they behave.
The particles aren't our focus,
of the why and for the how.
No... everything’s the Field,
that describes the then and now.
A beauty of probabilities,
a guess where they may be.
Real or just imagined,
for particle velocity.
The jump, the spike, a double jet,
to calculate creations.
How intricate the formulas,
of mutual annihilations.
But it’s not a vacuum of particles,
that hoover up the Field!
It’s the undulating Field itself,
in the blanket of the yield.
The surf is up, the trough is down,
the pattern’s on the Wall.
They shoot the curl, or wipe it out,
the field’s in caterwaul.
Then we draw analogies,
of what it must be like.
But something from the nothing...
classic logic takes a hike.
We try to tell what’s happening,
with speech not adequate.
Some forbid the lexicon,
of the maths in duplicate.
Yet it seems, to quantify,
in a language of it’s own.
And we can hear it chatter,
though its meaning’s not full blown.
We know Hadrons are the nouns,
and the Leptons are the verbs.
The Bosons are the adjectives,
and the Field is all the words.
The particles aren't our focus,
No... it’s to the Field we truck.
Wading in our Wellington’s,
in the fog and quantum muck.
A particle’s not a particle,
a wave is not a wave.
It’s more or less equations,
of the way that they behave.
By -Edlynn Nau
©March 1, 2019
If you’ve ever studied Quantum Mechanics, or tried to understand reality from the subatomic level, or follow new particles found at CERN, then you understand that analogies are about impossible for a science that just isn’t classical. This was meant to be fun and underscore the difficulty of the English language in not being able to translate the maths.
TEA WITH ALIENS (-Revise 9-27-17)
Flew, starburst all, and dark of depth,
to travel deep in space, they wept.
From sadness in their search, to find,
some “Others” just like them, a sign.
That they were not alone, a speck,
proof others too had made this trek.
Other times they sought connection,
up and out to find direction.
They flew their ships out into space,
to find themselves a chic new race.
They’d build a home beyond, out there,
to save themselves from dark despair.
They'd find a place much like their home,
and build the Earth beneath a dome.
They'd mock the mountains, light, and sea,
and summon aliens home to tea.
They'd learn from them new tricks and grace,
and share with Earth, from outer space.
Back on Earth while seeking sameness,
paradoxes hung-on aimless.
They could never invite to tea,
their neighbors varied by degree.
With politics, and faiths, diverse,
the “Them” and “Us” became their curse.
Ever looking for each other,
in the stars but under cover.
And seeking creatures, sweet and thin,
alien folks with pearly skin.
And if they prayed to lesser gods,
they’d teach them all that their’s were frauds.
Brave space cowboys or pioneers
would soldier forth these last frontiers.
They'd search for planets, clean and new,
and look for green and search for blue.
Two moons are fine, to homestead Mars,
then venture next, to clustered stars.
Earthlings different, each one rare,
in all colors, creed and prayer.
In every spirit, face and name,
the story there remains the same.
They will not see they have their treat,
the heaven sought is at their feet.
They wrecked this spaceship here called Earth,
and took their children’s cherished worth.
Making tea parties for détente,
with humans acting nonchalant.
And “Them and us” it came to be,
while visiting aliens and sipping tea.
By Edlynn Nau
© March 14, 2015
#68. MOON WINK
I took a trip for fun,
between the Earth and Sun,
slid quietly between,
the star sun's scarlet sheen,
from its radiant show,
and in it's earthly glow.
I cast misty shadows,
on planet's green meadows,
and people took up hands,
like stretchy rubber bands,
to greet me with great joy,
like a new kite or toy.
Metallic ships went by,
with sunbursts on the fly,
between planet and star,
I'm incredibly far,
I’m always just right here,
with the sun over there.
Your sable shades cloaked earthly eyes,
I heard the awe of your surprise,
I felt a popularity,
of power all had come to see,
I'd be like the great Houdini,
hide the sun and make it teeny.
I blocked the amber sun from view,
and cast dark shadows over you,
a coyote barked a gentle cough,
and Venus slid her blanket off,
the crickets sang, but not for long,
the Sun insisted, I was wrong.
Then out it came with dazzled light,
a Sun cracked smile of spewing fright,
a cheshire grin of searing heat,
red with anger and blind conceit,
he hid from me all Earth's creatures,
with fuzzy dim, blue-green features.
Then, I saw you'd all gone,
with the Sun turned back on,
you loud creatures all clapped,
with my next route well mapped,
for the light had returned,
and my dark magic spurned,
as the lesser soft light,
when you seek me at night.
Then you said you were done,
with your star studded fun,
with cameras and scopes,
and space colored hopes,
a quick jump to that car,
you lost me and the star.
On a soft summer night,
with gold glints of starlight,
look me full in the face,
as I beam from my place,
then, wave long as you think,
what I hid in a wink.
-Edlynn Nau
© August 25, 2017
Rats! Mine Poetic Submissions Once Again Deemed Floccinaucinihilipilification
/?fläks??nôs??ni?hil??pil?fi'kaSH?n/
(floc·ci·nau·ci·ni·hil·i·pil·i·fi·ca·tion)
Countless declined submissions of mine,
tipping scales massive
Earth Atlas shrugged,
(he nonchalantly shouldered
1.317 × 10^25 lbs)
sends storied ambition plummeting
millstone yoked neck analogous
to bajillion pound weight
thus yours truly
doth modify expectations
absolute zero prospect
I will posthumously
attain poet laureate status
within human league,
asper dignified luminaries
comprising cognoscenti pantheon
posthumously storied authors
renown unto posterity,
yet ever since disembarking...
fashioning, finagling, forging
building blocks of English Language
humble mission courtesy this wordsmith
never sunk entrenched ambitions
into virtual sea constituting briny deep
wide whirling webbed waters
intent to reel eyes,
neither fame nor fortune,
but wield unique signature
this landlubber mentally laboring
to heft cumbersome words
chiseling, fitting (jigsaw puzzle pieces)
interlocking snuggly, asper
analogous mortise and tenon,
or (sometimes forcefully jamming)
multisyllabic deeply oceanographic
flowingly, trending intrinsically quixotic
harmonically sympathetic...
to affect pacific effect,
nonetheless attempt to launch,
albeit figuratively shipshape anchored
literary endeavor metrically
bobbing (with square pants) along
gently down stream of consciousness
side stepping excessively
indignant, flagrant, arrogant...
undertones, yet present
political perturbations pain
this doubting Thomas unitarian,
whose outlook good n plenti grim,
especially insatiable thirst
about global/world events
can barely be slaked!
SONG OF ANALOG MAN
Don't blog.
Sing in analog.
Log-off in space.
Wasted time!
In machine rhyme.
Holding data in your face.
Past, heart shaped locket.
Present, gear and shinny sprocket.
Pendulum stops in place.
Time machine,speaks tick-tock.
Strings and loops, in quantum flick-flock.
Trying to save the human race.
What's the pattern,
what's the fear?
To everything that
we hold dear.
Endless stream of
one and zip.
Baked in a Pi
of Delta whip.
Here today and gone tomorrow.
Cry into your programed sorrow.
You are not, Computer Ace.
Find the F key, find the trouble.
Hit a key, and now it's double.
All else fails, report your case.
Don't throw ExBasic fits here!
Count the gigs to megabits dear.
Do your Loop in nested trace.
Forgot to multiply
the chain.
Did this really cook
your brain?
The functions solved for X and Y,
thrown a curve you won't embrace.
What's the pattern,
what's the fear?
To everything that
we hold dear.
Endless stream
of one and zip.
Baked in a Pi
of Delta whip.
A swirl of chips and funny numbers.
Formulas, our life encumbers.
Are we truly lost in place?
Can we backtrack and count our fingers?
Toes and noes, the feeling lingers.
Of pendulums, and golden lockets,
and crystals used for mama's vase.
He wants a song, to strum guitar strings.
Don't complicate, the how to live things.
Digital, can we erase?
Analog he really savors.
No prologue to quantum favors.
Do away and please efface!
What's the pattern,
what's the fear?
To everything that
we hold dear.
Endless stream
of one and zip.
Baked in a Pi
of Delta whip.
By Edlynn Nau
BLUE BY YOU
What’s Blue by me?
Butterfly wings,
the Blue Moth in flight,
stilettos, suede shoes,
for dancing at night.
Moonbows and rainbows,
in the spectrum of blue,
the eyes of your love,
when he’s laughing at you!
Purple Lupine, Periwinkle,
and Violets can’t be!
Forget-me-nots, Bluebells,
are true bluer to me.
Oceans, rivers,
blue lagoons in the day,
on a raft or a sailboat,
to blue Half Moon Bay.
Lapis, sapphires,
oyster shells from Cape Cod,
Bettas and Dolphins,
are deep blue in a pod.
Blue Willow, blue Fenton,
Blue Delft on their stems,
Cobalt blue glasses,
for wine with your friends.
You’re singing the Blues,
when your down in the mouth,
your blue in a mood,
if your spirits go south.
Blueberry muffins,
blue cheese, and blue crab,
and blueberry buckle,
that’ll run up your tab.
A Blue Footed Booby,
who’s feet look too cold,
a Bluebird, and Bluejay,
whose terribly bold.
Something blue for a wedding,
sing alone with this moon,
“working blue” in a gig,
when a blue moon’s not soon!
Blue bloods are said,
to be noble within,
but the silver in spoons
made them blue in their skin.
Blue dragons and Smurfs
and a painted Blue Boy,
stuffed hippos, and Eeyores,
are gifts of great joy.
We can’t forget,
those blue denim jeans,
we lay down, to zip up,
unless we are lean.
Baby and Navy,
and Cornflower blue,
Steel and Teal,
they’re vivid too.
Royal with Azure,
they share a bright blue,
Sky and Powder,
are softer in hue,
Electric and Space,
or a Midnight milieu,
these are my colors,
now what’s blue by you.
-Edlynn Nau
©April 12, 2019
WRAPPING IT IN PURPLE
-For Prince
Black onyx handsome,
Small is beautiful,
Soft campy creature,
Definite in feature,
All chiseled, boned,
Talents honed,
And used for a king's ransom.
A royal purple mist,
Rained down on fans.
A thousand in the cast,
(He's never going to last).
Sing, Hip hop, do yer dance,
It's really yer last chance;
And maybe you'll be missed.
Let's do! Let's go crazy!
Count sheep, fall asleep,
Red flag, Swag dance, Sweet feet!
Tap it, Rap it, on a side street.
Keepers, weepers, of the dark,
One chance to make yer mark.
Sigh or sing, no time to be lazy!
Speed of light, day or night,
You know time can't be defined.
Check it off, count loves,
Hope you hear the cry of doves.
Yer wanting all yer extra time,
Kiss it in yer billboard climb;
A nanosecond dove in flight.
Burning up your axe,
Ending up an icon,
Pay your ticket, seeum,
In Hollywood's museum.
Paisley is the handle,
Stiff, dripping like a candle,
Just a manikin in wax.
No birthday's, no gray, or wrinkle.
In purple paper, wrap a lost chord!
You float above a cherry moon,
Wing it, sing it, it's your last tune.
Spirit vaporized, name that's canonized,
And all your data to be analyzed.
Precious purple, a periwinkle sprinkle.
Always cry for love, never cry for pain;
Elevé, do rise, caught up, surprised!
Don't stare sleeping there,
Death upon the stair.
No liquor, no last flicker,
No barcode, no heart quicker,
An April snow has left you sleeping in the rain.
By Edlynn Nau
© April 23, 2016