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<title>Poem Collection 1</title>
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<h1>Poem Collection 1</h1>
<p>
Had witness my fall you recalled the path I took,<br />
Projectiles to pass by space; time closed thy book<br />
To ram but slow I shut my ears and eyes<br />
Flowing through called history thy trust no doubt?
</p>
<hr />
<p>
Damaged walls, flake of snow<br />
Fluorescent bulbs to the wicked glow<br />
Copper-plated zinc, as electrons fly off—<br />
Less energy, more mass,<br />
Bonds fuse and dissipate through.
</p>
<hr />
<p>
Call for distress I pull through wind and <br />
Reciprocal squares guard my flame!<br />
Gift of time we lost our brain,<br />
Collectively trialed to the scent of law.
</p>
<hr />
<p>
A tie, a knot<br />
Blank tile of red paper<br />
No truth I behold<br />
booklets I then fold<br />
Leaves have fallen through<br />
The last rupture of space<br />
Time hauls, halts, as<br />
My inertia approaches the essence<br />
Subjectivity I entail<br />
That last, final mail.<br />
First straw thy burnt<br />
Reducingly brick red I turn<br />
Why, the notion of myself?<br />
What basis vectors I base upon?<br />
Me, contra-variant perspectives<br />
Limited at zero but never approaching<br />
in finite steps.<br />
Impedance to the arrow<br />
Coils induce, right thumb.<br />
Like a diverging series I pass<br />
Through covariant species.
</p>
<hr />
<p>
Maple trees that vanish<br />
While last it's me who's banished,<br />
FLEE, RUN WHILE YOU'RE ALIVE—<br />
Equations you cannot derive.<br />
Integrate; syndicate; resonate!<br />
Iterating through the ashes of history<br />
We being in the gory and your glory.<br />
We're all in a hurry, but worry you not;<br />
I had my best at calculating my determinant,<br />
What's left is all but ultimately permanent.<br />
Clot! Shot? Weeding through time and space.<br />
No eigenvalues that mind could could encompass,<br />
While you still have the privilege for forecasts!
</p>
<hr />
<p>
A game of roulette<br />
That starry of a couplet;<br />
Seeking knowledge<br />
Without that assuage.<br />
<i>Thy brain is <b>squishy</b></i><br />
Heart ceases to be wishy.<br />
Dreams crushed,<br />
Faces blushed.<br />
Perpetually elevated,<br />
Never subjugated.
</p>
<hr />
<p>
May the base case be proven, by induction<br />
we arrive at a construction.<br />
Blocks of clay invisibly built,<br />
No sense of pride or guilt.<br />
Cold and austere,<br />
Painting a sphere clear near.<br />
Dreams of symbols,<br />
Winge for the last call.<br />
But it always awaits,<br />
Never do you demodulate.<br />
No need to be redemptive,<br />
Truth itself relative.
</p>
<hr />
<p>
At the end of the day I phew<br />
Lips turn blue;<br />
Falling into misery<br />
No degree that I've deprived!<br />
Painting my soul,<br />
Let go of that control.<br />
Strolling enrolling a whole percent.<br />
Nothing to represent, scent of intent—<br />
Reproaching the limit<br />
only Pis and Sigmas<br />
By what they underlie.<br />
Goodbye?<br />
No reply.
</p>
<hr />
<p>
Deprived of truth that I see eternal,<br />
I swear to god, none that saw feudal.<br />
Coaxially aligned my heart's contrived,<br />
By pen and ink thy mind has arrived.<br />
<br />
Standing on the shoulder of giants—<br />
or rather under the shoes of no alliant's.<br />
I burn, I oxidize, but then reduce,<br />
But no theorem or method could induce.<br />
<br />
May those not maligned shall fly,<br />
No key of mine might apply.<br />
Bombard the idea that I survive<br />
All I am is alive.
</p>
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