Long Pythagoras Poems
Long Pythagoras Poems. Below are the most popular long Pythagoras by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pythagoras poems by poem length and keyword.
Love of truth
the very light of Greece
A peninsula thrust out
like a bony hand,
‘God-tormented Greece,’
Zeus exclaimed,
“I shall give man ‘an evil,’ as the price of fire:
They will clasp destruction with laughter of desire.”
The Gods live on-even though obscure.
Fate rules them too, as Zeus learns
the heroes must die; and the greater
the heroism the earlier the death.
Greece being, itself so divided
between the rational and irrational,
between logic and instinct,
between the scientific and the magical,
between the state of self possession
and that of being possessed,
and one can continue……
between symmetry and diversity,
between the recognition of limits
and the pursuit of the limitless,
between restraint and vaulting ambitions,
or hubris, Pythagoras in all his wisdom
could achieve no resolution or harmonia.
Of all these diverse elements, what was
greatest in him, and in Greece,
was the recognition of these conflicts
for what they were…….
that by grappling with them
a better order in life might then arise.
If Newton hadn't done his thing
How would we all stay down
Pythagoras said his pies are square
And that the world is round
Columbus sailed an open sea
And found a landmass there
If Einstein had no relatives
Would M C still be square
Now Alexander Graham Bell
And this might sound quite drastic
Without his input all of us
Would talk to lumps of plastic
Fleming gave us penicillin
He made it out of mould
While good old Bill Lord Kelvin
Gave us ways to say we're cold
Armstrong took just one small step
Which then he said was giant
Some say it was all a fib
But NASA stands defiant
But all of that is history
It's stuff that's gone before
What a shame it is that we
Don't make it anymore
FRIEND of WISDOM
Philosopher, they call me,
Following Pythagoras of old,
A friend of wisdom it means and
Nothing more.
For years philosophy’s principles
I tried to understand and
For decades her ethics strived
To apply
Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Heraclitus
My subjects were, thus
Faithfully devoted to
Their teaching
With no success, I confess
From my part
But not because of a lack
Of trying
And now,
That my life's end, I discern clearer
By the day
To my horror came to realize
That although loyal a FRIEND of WISDOM
I have remained to this day
WISDOM herself NEVER thought of me
THE SAME WAY!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
13 January 2013
This poem, which is loaded with math terms, is to be sung to the tune of Subterranean Homesick Blues. What was I thinking?
Johnny’s in the basement
Working on geometry
You’ll see my intent
A theorem in development
Presh is on the website
Hit pause, scratch head
Trick problem, misled
Try another approach instead
Look out kid
Better check it again
God knows man
Another paper in the trash can
You better try trigonometry
Lookin’ for a new way
The man with an isomorphic map
and a toupee
Wants eleven equations
You only got ten
Maggie writes chicken scratch
Paper full of cross hatch
Says she wants to attach
You better detach
You can’t find the hypotenuse
Maggie says you gotta use
Pythagoras or you lose
But the angle is obtuse
Look out mate
This spheroid’s oblate
Get on the rack
This nut won’t crack
Better get back from the ledge
With a compass and a straight edge
No primes, God knows,
Can decompose
You don’t need Terrence Tao
Can’t square a circle nohow
Add y, add x
See the roots are complex
Closed loop, subgroup
You need to jump through another hoop
Let’s see, try three
Take five, relax
Eat snacks, do tax
If you should fail, take an ax
Look out bub
Surely you’ll flub
By blunders, errors
Five-choose-two-sers
And logical abusers
Girl with a slide rule
Lookin’ like an old fool
Don’t copy Euler
Get yourself a lawyer
Ah add four, add five
It rhymes, it’s prime, then derive
One two, buckle your shoe
It’s one-to-one and onto
Square here, cube there, eggs poach
Twenty years of schoolin’
And you’re workin’ on a roach coach
Look here Jack
This nut still won’t crack
Break your hands accidental
Use a tail prehensile
Be inferential
You’ll find it’s exponential
You’re gonna have a fit
You’ll never solve it
Ken Chesebro says
‘Cause Mike Pence’ll take your pencil
If she had to cross the rubicon for lack of sorting colours
A Rubik’s cube remained an unsolved puzzle
If numbers granted her the wish to live another happy day
Sudoku would refuse transformation from a maze
If chess could move to manifest the pawn’s hopeless plight
She’d marry black and white together
If life dealt yet another set of hands tied to brave surrender
A poker face turned red hot poker in her eye
But when emotions garnished poetry and muses’ feathers
Ink fell into place from selfless fountain quills
Quite possibly she is unbalanced on a spread sheet of lost time
And yet her pen embraces harmony with words
Pythagoras still dangles angles and straight lines in broken sequence
But there is no bloody razor in Archimedes’ bath
She has no rubber duck but sails with Poe’s dark ravens
Unfolds her plaits for darkened Sylvia
When foam caresses treasure island in her tub at night
She sails the seven magic oceans
A dolphin croaks another oracle at Delphi’s flood gates
As she postpones hemlock for another day
When she reaches cataracts of blurry vision in despair
Zero sum games twist algorithms of illusion
She cannot square roots and circles will not divide her prime
However much adding up fracture pulls the plug
Regardless of whether steam or tears moisten her parchment
The misty fog finds metaphors to embrace healing
24th January 2020
We sit together in the shadowed halls beyond time—
Plato, Socrates, Spinoza, Protagoras,
Aristotle, Pythagoras, Kant, Descartes, Aquinas—
our words once rivers,
now dust in the mouths of men.
I, Plato, speak first:
“I left you the Sun,
the realm beyond your cave of illusions—
but you turn your face from the light,
content with dancing shadows.”
Socrates leans forward,
his eyes burning with quiet fire:
“I said, I know that I know nothing,
but you still clothe ignorance in arrogance,
mistaking noise for wisdom.”
Spinoza raises his head to the heavens:
“I told you God and Nature breathe as one—
but you split them apart with the knife of pride,
searching for the divine in the clouds,
while trampling it underfoot.”
Protagoras’ voice cuts the air:
“Man is the measure of all things—
yet you measure yourself by gold,
by conquest,
by the trembling of those beneath you.”
Aristotle sighs:
“I gave you the golden mean,
the path between excess and deficiency—
but you still feast on extremes,
drunk on desire,
starved of virtue.”
Pythagoras strikes the table once:
“I showed you the harmony of number,
the music of the spheres—
but you play only the drumbeat of greed,
drowning the stars in smoke.”
Kant’s gaze is unblinking:
“I told you there are things
reason can never touch—
yet you batter mystery with logic,
as if infinity would bow to your syllogisms.”
Descartes whispers coldly:
“I think, therefore I am,”
but you think without being,
you are without knowing,
you live without awakening.
And then Aquinas, heavy with sorrow, speaks last:
“I showed you the marriage of faith and reason—
but you have divorced them,
making orphans of truth and grace alike.”
We sit in silence now,
watching your world from the edge of eternity—
a world that thinks itself wise,
yet gropes in darkness,
holding the candle
backwards.
The face in the mirror has changed
No longer do I see a handsome youth
Instead I see the ravages of age
Hair falling out and turning grey
Lines in my forehead
Well, I'm holding up pretty well
considering that have touched the face of death
in my past
and lived to tell of my ordeal
I watch the tableau of trees outside my window
Taste the light while I still can
Drink deeply from the well of life
I now know that I will be able to face the darkness
which all of us must face
I smile - knowing that the years (to quote Pythagoras)
are but the stream I go fishing in
This poem was written by poet : Anish Matthew
Poem Title : Facing The Darkness
Posted at PS : May 9, 2018
Ambition is to play the Cello
Becoming a most talented fellow
Cellists make such sumptuous sounds
Delighting audiences the whole world round
Encouragement to take up lessons
From former cellist Hubert Hasbeen
Grimacing when he hears me play
Hasbeen lasted a week and a day
I was downhearted ~ I began to cry
Just when I spied her grandeur from the corner of my eye
Keyboard ~ Kettle drum ~ neither one did I desire
Laughing loudly I had found the one to set the world on fire
My heart it skipped a beat as I approached her silver feet
Nothing else would do for me the sound was so unique
Once I stood in front of her she smiled ~ it was so sweet
Playfully I stroked her keys as I began to feel at ease
Quivering with excitement and dropping to my knees
Resolute to practice every day and every night
Stoically determined to reach my ultimate peak
The Royal Philharmonic well they called me up one day
Unknown to me they’d heard my work and wanted me to play
Vowing to do my very best
When I auditioned with the rest
Xylophonist extraordinaire
Yells and cheers from all my peers
Zenith reached as played Pythagoras’ music of the spheres
Written 9th February 2020
Contest ABECEDARIAN
Sponsor Caren Krutsinger
1st PLACE
Contest Strand Select J
Sponsor Brian Strand
2nd PLACE
(Voices of Galileo & Pythagoras)
On this day—
September 9th, 2025,
an echo rose from the ninth portal of the universe.
Galileo spoke:
"Mathematics is the language
with which God has written the universe."
The proof was everywhere—
the ninth month,
the ninth day,
the year 2025
folding into the number 9.
A trinity appeared:
999.
And when I added 9 + 9 + 9 = 27—
it fell again to 9.
A cycle completed.
A circle closed.
Galileo’s voice trembled:
"This happens once in nine years.
The world has finished one chapter—
and now, it begins another."
I asked—
“What does this cycle mean for humanity?”
He answered:
"Nine is compassion.
Nine is wisdom.
Nine is completion—
and awakening.
It calls the soul to service,
to live for the greater good."
Then Pythagoras appeared,
his face burning with sorrow and light:
"The world was in meditation—
now it awakens.
The true hearts of compassion
will rise for humanity’s sake."
We raised our eyes to the stars.
They shimmered as if lifting glasses with us.
And we whispered:
“September 9th, 2025—
the day of 999.
A cycle ends.
A cycle begins.
Cheers.
To the honest police officers who lost their lives in the line of duty.
The city sleeps light under a copper moon,
''The law is a tyrant'', his internal tune,
He runs the dark streets in the heat of the
noon.
Chasing the shadow,a ghost in the swoon,
''No man is free who is a slave to his passion,''
He runs the dark streets in the heat of the
noon
His chief is a pharaoh of the modern saloon,
His superior'wealth a golden,slick fashion,
''The law is a tyrant,'' his internal tune.
''A fish rots first from the head'', a grim boon,
The corruption a cancer in every transaction,
He runs the dark streets in the heat of the
noon.
He keeps his small oath, an ancient
monsoon,
A warrior of conscience, a silent reaction,
'' The law is a tyrant'', his internal tune.
A single just man in a world of lagoon,
He is the thin blue line in a sick,broken
nation,
He runs the dark streets in the heat of the
noon,
''The law is a tyrant,'' his internal tune.
1. The law is a tyrant-aphorism from ancient
Greek law and philosophy
2. ''No man is free who is a slave to his passion''-
A maxim from the philosopher Pythagoras of ancient Greece
3. '' A fish rots first from the head.''-A proverb/maxim with ancient
roots in various cultures,including Chinese and Italian.