Sunday, January 15, 2012


I want to unpeel mathematics
and hand it to you
on a plate of curiosities.

I want to find the gravel
you brushed off your knees
three years ago and tell you
"These are seeds. We could
plant them together if you liked."

I want to fly
three hundred million metres per second
(that is, to be massless)
by exploiting the nature of
multidimensionality and

I want you to come with.

But my wings grow tired
just imagining
and I can't
find fertile soil.

When I curl into an armchair
with my maths book and tea,
saying, "You should try it sometime,"

I don't expect you to listen.

In general, I don't particularly like depressing/sad poetry. Sadness, it seems to me, is not an end in itself (which is not to say it's without value). Poems can successfully take sadness and use it to another end (this reflects life, I think), but I would propose
wallowing ≠ art.
This is rather wallow-y. However, I told myself very firmly when I started writing here that I was not to have expectations of art. So I argued with myself a bit:
   This is rubbish.
   It isn't! It's true!
   Well, it's certainly not factual and I don't see it uncovering the intrinsic nature of reality.
   Didn't you like the part about maths being like flying even a little?
   Okay, that wasn't too bad, but people won't get it.
   How do you know what people will get? You're not people. And the second part is also good. The emotion is universal, but the context is specific.
   Fine then. I'm not saying it's bad, but it's not good enough. You know that's not the whole story.
   Yeah, it's not the whole story, but you haven't lived the whole story yet. How do you expect to write it?
   You can't write it yet.
   What if I guilt you about never writing blog posts?
   It's been five days since the last post. Can't I put this up?
   Oh come o-o-o-n.
   Fine then. Make a fool of yourself. But put up a disclaimer saying I had nothing to do with it.
And then I posted it, against my [better/worse] judgment, together with the transcript as a disclaimer.


  1. I liked it :D Especially the first verse <3

    I think the only "wallow-y" part is after "I want you to come with" (which wouldn't have made a bad ending itself really). It does feel a little like two seperate poems.

    1. Thanks! I think the best version of this poem might have three sections, but I think you're right about the second part here being the problematic bit. :)

  2. It's things like this that make me hang onto my love of maths ^_^ I love too many things, and never spend enough (or any) time on any of them. So I need some kind of reminder from someone who loves it more than I, that there is still a lot to discover. Thank you :)

    1. <3 Thank you! (Have you ever heard of The Hedgehog and the Fox? "The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing." Many things isn't always too many!)