Maths Poetica

I use to love numbers. It was a life time ago. It was only the first six. Seven stopped me by its prime oddness. I never counted zero, it felt too dark, like the black robbed teachers.

One was the new baby, easy to put in the others’ arms. Two was the sweet little sister, always amiable to get along. Three, the ornery little boy, always crying for attention.
Four was the responsible eldest sister, on a strong path to success. She new how to negotiate with the two older brothers. Five the efficient lieutenant to six, who saw himself the best, because he could quickly make a dozen.

I would love to trace the circle and triangles of geometry. But a line through infinity became a ray poking the core of my asymmetrical brain. Newton’s dagger quickly severed my gut-brain. Like the last swing of a passionate love affair…no mas, no mas, no mas…Adieu, adieu, adieu.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

Numbers and people. You make them come alive in comparisons. I feel some stories to be told based on numbers.

[albee]

Yes! You see the siblings, at that time when my white knuckles grasped pencil and desk.

[Sami Khalil]

:)...................

[Patricia]

This is so good! Love it, love it! Going in the library

[albee]

🙏thank you. The beautiful poets at this old cafe make me feel good, like I knew I always should🙏

[Patricia]

you're welcome