One before the why
Neutrinos dance, the tenet
Encoded gem I
Hopi hydrogen
Unified twins, Gemini
Numbers, count by staff
Divided even
Release the energy chi
Equal scales by 2
Decide upon one
Y photon will equal c
Energy Ion
Arc flight of eagle
Ram or goat the choice be I
S- Martics be arc
Oscillate on thoughts
Fermions amount to sum
Quantum quarks made you
Unified field net
Alpha the numeric n
N number alpha
Tau weight equals au be you
Unit be star Q
Mass measured by staff
Set started on go
Catapult be to the stars
Independent Star
Electrons are a
New negative light of one
Cascade reason why
Elect charm at end
2 by way of the release
Infinity roar
Now finite beyond
For I am born one with sun
It’s all inside you
None but bold be the one Thoth
Inside the fire be one
Together be the ocean
Yet the ocean be drop too
By Steven Willis Henderson
6/23/25
one star is unlike any other star
a cosmic snowflake by any other name
the universe playing the maestro from afar
assigns numeric labels - their claim to fame
a glowing ball of unprecedented energy
each star in motion on an unparalled journey
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
The combination lock I had
In high school, for the gym,
Would open with a special code;
Though memory’s grown dim…
I still remember: 2 – 8 – 2
Turn right, then left, then right,
Those numbers etched into my brain,
Which I can still recite.
Those were the only numbers that
I had to memorize
To access something locked away
(My sneakers, I’d surmise).
Yet nowadays, we have to learn
Numeric codes, as well
As passwords to protect us
From where hackers hide and dwell.
And each one should be different,
With 8 characters or more,
Some upper case, plus numbers
Or some symbols, por favor.
It also is expected that
Your brain will, on command,
Be able to cough up those codes
When apps make that demand.
Those years in school so long ago
Did not provide a clue
That some day my stuff would not be safe
With simply 2 – 8 – 2.
We are a species gnawing at the roots of existence, hellbent on self-immolation, our every endeavor a funiculus of futility. The argent legacy of our forebears, squandered by imbecilic hands that molded us into hollow effigies, devoid of essence, yet rictus-grinning with vacuous ignorance.
Fear, the petrifying shackles that bind us, rendering us ciphers of compliance, indentured servants to the whims of the elected elite. We toil, mesmerized by the tintinnabulation of trinkets, and the numeric abstractions that promise ephemeral solace, but deliver only eternal enslavement.
We are fallen titans, parasitic echoes of greatness, our nebulous dreams reduced to flickering embers, as we succumb to the siren's song of servitude.
Worst of all someone is reading this right now thinking I am gloomy and need to smile, but can’t say I am wrong, my question to you is, your joking right?
Ashes of humanity
Scattered and lingered in hearts of purity
Hallowed and spirited within the psyche of infinity
Weaving with man's joy and sorrows
Entwined with lattices of honey yellows
Drifting in clouds of human form
Numeric and linguistic crypts of cuneiform
Endearing are thoughts and words, not jive
Sprinkled ashes etched on books of archive
Doors that opened to human interest
All come alive in ashes, blots and dearest
Your ash is the strength, honor of the fittest
Grand Canyon darkness—city nights,
towering votives in wingless flight
Elevator to the desperate peak,
ninety-nine floors above the waiting street
Torment and doubt ride to the top,
buttons numeric finally stop
Ten steps to the railing, writhing in pain,
the cure within reach—calling your name
(225 West 57thSt, New York: June, 2022)
Panic at the food bank where people are numeric
Disorderly behaviour brought wildly hysteric
Fits of frenzied actions triggering great fear
pushing, shoving all around with piercing screams in ear.
The lady was in queue as were the rest of us then
suddenly her water broke and oh my gosh- the fuss!
Now all are fine back in line and many are impressed
how ideal the babies meal made from mothers’ breast.
Luminaries revel on a blackened velvet canvas;
swirling, whirling, tops in centrifugal dance.
A galactic party is in full swing,
at the end of every transpiring day.
Cosmic bliss betwixt sun and moon,
casts its gifts down from the heavens.
Twelve houses borne of numeric scale,
expressing events all the way to Pi.
Mathematical is the sacred tree,
where the Tetragrammaton rebirths its essence;
the seed of life in everything,
gives forth for those of third-eye sight.
Colored marbles travel in abundance,
from black hole to a new universe.
As a child, I counted these celestial eyes;
now saddened that they dwindle from view.
Humankind in all of their ignorance,
beset with greed eliminates my view.
Infinity is the playground of hope
for new stars are forever-birthing.
The Winds of Time
The winds of time and their numeric certainty
are inevitable in our inner-active mortal world.
The winds reflect the turbulent nature and the
ever-changing situations that define humanity.
Time marches forth with its all due precision,
whilst the winds portray mankind’s inflection.
Time, as a constant variable, is always there in
all forms of human contact and true interaction.
The winds always speak to the uncertainty and
the factor of variability that shapes all humanity.
The winds of time also give all of us poets a true
metaphor by which we can ponder mankind’s fate.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
May 30, 2021 (Couplet)
Everything has an end which adds another beginning
Novem- the nine, now it has been eleven
Numeric big to small in functioning share
It's transitional rainy monsoon to cold winter
Neither damp nor dry, it's colder but not harsh
It's thru the red wine to pale gray, golden brown to yellow nature
Symbolically it's a representative of life's final stage
In the shadow of wintry frost it scrambles the life's stamina
Sound saints to souls creative the born one is
Live in mind to mind the hard working ideas
Queen of all fall flowers- the chrysanthemum leads it
Signifies everything from a life to death! Oh
Opening the doors of eternities it reminds the short-day life
It's natural bloom period in the late summer, early winter
It's sunbathing love life for growing hard and revive better
27.11.2020 Chattogram
Digital Era technology
Computer Age machinery
Lost and found
In the Information Age frown
Taking place, face to face
The desire to do, whatever, in grace
Necessary to get the praise
For speed and space
Of knowledge turnover
Required for super minded processor
Gathered and decided
To influence their devices
On computer reality communication
By transmitting information
Into a discrete numeric routine
Merry go round machine
Doctor Phil Sees 2020
By Franklin Price
1/30/2020
Oh two-oh two-two oh -two oh
Punxutawney Phil's big thing
The halfway point of winter days
Progressing to the coming Spring
A one time numeric happening
Comes on this groundhog day
Front to back, or back to front
Reads the same both either way
Punxutawney Phil comes out,
His shadow on his mind.
He'll look in all directions
Doesn't know what he will find
Some people call him Doctor Phil
Shadow spotting his degree
If there is none, for him to spot,
An early Spring for you and me.
If there's a shadow there to see,
No clouds providing blocks,
Spring will wait another week
Until the Equinox.
Spring Equinox is twenty March
In the event you didn't know.
The next season is Summer
That's just how the Seasons go.
Bye
Goodbye
Goodbye O the 2019
You are not old year
I couldn't cross you
But you crossed me away
Today
On the hatch of rising Sun
First dawn of New Year
White snow dawn
Good morrow with angelic foggy attire in air
I tried to buy the time,
the left times
But there I didn't find any sales agent of the time
Numeric counting number of time crossing me
1,2,3...... now 2019 Years of BC have passed
Now I'm ready in the mesmerizing womb of winter
Not to buy New Year but to greet in madrigal with flowers
Fragrance of bloomed rose embraces the time
and Time is coming on every place of this earth
as the virgin damsel to hear the voice oftogether
HAPPY NEW YEAR
-December 24,2019 Chattogram
One day I decided to aggregate what I own
Realizing soon enough I couldn't count it all,
Though I never thought I had all that much
What I had was oddly beyond simple math.
Determined I was to know what I'm worth
And I knew the formula for how that works
So I added all assets and deducted liabilities
Yet, never could I derive the right answer.
My assets were tangible, so easy to add up
But when I thought of lives I had touched
And receipt of generosity they bestowed,
I could not appraise the value of their love.
Swiftly I subtracted what I owed to others
Feeling proud of self for I didn't owe much
Till I took account of much that was given
Not expecting from me anything in return.
When I finally accepted futility of my effort
My worth resembled faces of my loved ones,
Not susceptible to any numeric computation
Well beyond the bounds of ordinary cognition.
January 3, 2019
Placed 2nd in Food for thought poetry contest by Silent One
Comes through well and woe
Numeric change in counting
For new birth or death
-December 30, 2018 Chattogram
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