Long Statistics Poems
Long Statistics Poems. Below are the most popular long Statistics by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Statistics poems by poem length and keyword.
Between conjecture and classification there is
observation, experiment, data (collection and analysis),
statistics, calculus, and a good guess
about God's intentions - probabilities, fractals, chaos and complexity.
This is the thunderous city.
The form of the poem, the rhyme.
Form cannot be first if you want to reach high artistic levels, since
you are then bound by form, and that form is very often a
betrayal of reality.
Yet I find I am attracted all the time
to philosophies in short skirts, jewels and eyes lined with kohl.
I love where her legs lead, to her very soul.
Three women hike by under an umbrella in a winter rain. Two men side
by side run in rhythm.
An oil truck takes the hill in low steady gear.
My old Marine, 89, died last night without anxiety or fear.
May I overcome my pain enough to reach the place where the deer lay
down their bones
and, like them, die alone.
When making an axe handle, the pattern is not far off.
The purpose of school is to introduce us to the world's innumerable
wonders.
The periodic table, World Wars I and II, Huckleberry Finn and Jim.
But soft,
what light through yonder window breaks?
It is a billion trillion nuclear detonations per second without which
nothing can be done or faked.
The temple bell stops, but the sound still comes out of the flowers.
Forests and the composite species will be nameless. Genetic prowess,
receiving the sacrament, performing Lohengrin from the Great American
Songbook,
the look of love in all the wrong places, facebook,
fakebooks, folios of old family photos on or in pianos.
When we took Pop-Pop off the ventilator,
we put him in a refrigerator.
He stopped eating, he stopped breathing. Circle with a dot.
He had his dream, he'd rowed his boat.
Organic computers using polymerase and qubits came later.
mama and papa begged their musician son
to not join a band, although hedonistic fun
we are terrified you will soon be a member of twenty-seven
we would miss you terribly if you decided to return to heaven
Sonny boy laughed, and read them the stats
twenty songs give tribute to this number, but here are the facts
in spite of what the rumors legends and myths state
there is not that much danger, and the lifestyle is great
Jimi, Brian, Jim, and Janis might have been using drugs
Amy Winehouse died of fright, fearing rumors of thugs
Statistics show that popular musicians die usually at fifty-six
He told his parents good-bye, and raced away to get his musical fix.
The season is warming up,
shirts will come off
then holes in the flesh
of babes in their beds will blossom red.
There will be no posters made,
for instant martyrs,
no outrage from politicians,
no edge of the seat television trials,
no protests or marches,
no 24/7 news cycles,
it will be just another day
for the metropolis near the bay.
People drink more
as the bodies pile up.
The rain is soft on the blacktops
blood more easily washed away.
The city is stale, ghost gusts on the lake
don’t make it to the shore,
where the still heavy air
continuous its threat of ignition.
Today and tomorrow
the guns will be warming up.
The dead are statistics -
roaming gangs of statistics
add to the deadly roll call.
It’s not all bad news
after several weeks
a child found her lost puppy.
Between the funerals
there are baby showers.
The city is doing just fine
if we close our eyes.
Your fabulous career started in Minnesota.
It ended many years later in California.
Your statistics included sixty lifetime shutouts.
You had over three thousand seven hundred strikeouts.
A power right-hander considered among the best,
your accomplishments placed you above much of the rest.
Well Bert, despite your amazing prowess for the game,
I cannot believe you have not made the Hall of Fame.
Your lack of recognition appears as quite a shame.
With two hundred eighty-seven wins in your career,
you had a lot more than many other pitchers here.
Why don’t I see your plaque? The reason is hardly clear.
Like many others who follow the game of baseball,
I want to see your name enshrined in Cooperstown’s Hall.
Bert Blyleven was finally elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame this year after thirteen
straight years of unsuccessful attempts. He will be enshrined later on this summer.
I wrote this poem back in 2004.
one
morning
I’ll awake from
this surreal nightmare
I hold my breath
I live in
fear
memory’s
flipside is a
hellish curse
I wish I could erase
dismiss the persecutions
cruel injustices
systematic
strikes
most
utterly liberating
it would so be to crush and
disintegrate persistent debilitating
memories in order to lead
a life craving to be
free
bad
things happen
every day
our experiences
shared and yet diverse
sometimes even the most tragic
in the grander scheme of things
we’re the same and
yet unique
we still choose
life
when we stop and think about it
categorically we fall into
an array of statistics
one day I hope to
choose not to
stagnate
there
in
an attic
I wait for life
to pick up where
it suddenly
left off
~
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on July 18, 2020 for contest DELIRIUM sponsored by KAI MICHAEL NEUMANN - RANKED 5TH
Continuous sobering thought crippling me :
' Seven hundred thirty six million
women, means almost one In every three'
are vulnerable to molestation.
Most shocking Global Statistics to mention :
A nasty ruthless truth , hard to believe !
Is this progress of civilization ?
With respect and peace how can women live ?
Sexual , also physical violence
by intimate partner or non partner :
Thirty percent women experience.
Sexual harrasment to count later.
Where lies remedy ! What's the solution ?
' Woman to respect and protect always.'
From very childhood, male child to learn
' That's prime duty of man ' ! I must say..
To honour a woman at every step
should be a perfect Man's priority.
Sure, this moral concept will prevent rape
building a happy healthy society.
Never Say what to do now....
Nature's Clock keeps on ticking,
Past sweet memories keep refreshing,
Future beckons to keep you moving,
Engage yourself in what you missed doing.
Enjoy every Sunrise and Sunset ,
Colourful Chemistry of Nature is cherishing,
Physics of motion will keep you accelerating,
Enjoy Gardening to hear trees speaking,
Mathematics and Statistics is fascinating,
Your Investments will keep Growing,
Chirping Birds will now sound amusing,
Guiding you to adapt to the seasons changing.
With research new technology keeps emerging,
Macro to micro and now to nano, size gets reducing,
With this scientific look out you are now retiring.
For Societal benefits you will always be striving
So, never say what will I do now.....
If you want some meaning back in your life
Then here is what you should do,
Concentrate more on Logistics and less on statistics.
There are few who really know what they are about when dealing
With statistics.
So unless you have a reliable rear vision mirror statistics are not for you.
Statistics have use by dates, double meanings or no meanings at all
I'd rather rely on the rabbit that comes out of the hat than the statistics
That some have obtained via sky hooks.
With ethics at an all time low it is wise to use logistics to check the statistics.
If you ever question the value of logistics just remember Wellington.
The man who never lost a battle.
It certainly wasn't statistics that got his army where he wanted it.
So if you are lying awake at night worrying about statistics
Maybe you you should just picture in your head the moves you need to make to
Get that job done, so the boss won't turn you into just another statistic.
"Another 150 Illinoisans have lost their lives in the last 24 hours
May each of their memories be for a blessing
2,240 residents have tested positive for the virus
Another 365 new hospitalizations were recorded
730 people are on ventilators...
"These are real people, who have and had real lives
So, the virus is out there. It is among us
Stay inside your homes. Please!
Only go out for essential trips...
"Make sure to wash your hands thoroughly
for at least 30 seconds, with soap
whenever you touch exposed skin or a foreign object
Multiple hand-washing is the message here...
"And wearing a mask at all times out-of-doors
is key in mitigating the virus
I just can't stress that enough
Don't forget social distancing either
Stay at least six feet away from the person
with whom you are interacting...
"I'm the last person in the world who wants these restrictions
I'd like to open up the state as much as you would
Yet the the statistics don't lie. And though
we're flattening the curve
the virus is still out there
It is among us..."
I could give the daily speech by heart myself
Thank you, Governor Pritzker, for spooking me
and so many other law-abiding Illinoisans who have
been foolish enough to buy into your extended lockdown
For which you had no legal authority, whatsoever --
Bully!
And which, by the way, didn't apply to your family
Your wife and kids hopped on a plane and flew to Florida
to your tawny vacation home ---
Stay at home, my foot! ---
Hypocrite!
I hate going outside with my mask and gloves
I hate going shopping or to the pharmacy
I hate going for a walk in the park
It's all on you, Mr. Pritzker
May you reap
What you've sown...
And after the next election
May your memory be for a blessing
There is a ledger written
not only in ink,
but in the quiet arithmetic of suffering.
Columns rise like courthouse pillars—
names, numbers, counties, years—
statistics standing stiff as soldiers
in the cold parade of fact.
Yet behind every digit
breath once trembled.
A mother once waited by a window.
A child once pressed his cheek
against a screen door of hope.
We are told the numbers plainly:
this many taken,
this many sentenced,
this many years folded
into the narrow bed of iron.
But the big picture—
ah, the big picture—
is painted in centuries.
It is drawn from ships
that crossed unwilling seas,
from fields where freedom was promised
but wages were withheld,
from streets where sirens learned
the geography of certain neighborhoods
by heart.
The big picture is poverty
wearing handcuffs.
It is schools without books
and books without futures.
It is laws written sternly
but enforced unevenly.
Yet I say to you—
the arc that bends through these numbers
is not made of steel alone.
It is made of conscience.
If injustice has been counted,
then justice must be measured too.
If prisons have been built by policy,
then freedom may be built by courage.
Let us not be hypnotized by the columns.
Let us not mistake data for destiny.
For statistics do not imprison the soul
unless we consent to their permanence.
The big picture is not only what has been—
it is what shall be
when compassion legislates,
when equity stands guard at every gate,
when opportunity walks unafraid
through every zip code of this land.
Then the numbers will fall silent.
And in their place
will rise a chorus—
Not of cells closing,
but of doors opening.
And we shall see at last
that the measure of a nation
is not how many it confines,
but how many it sets free.