Like somehow letters and numbers over more letters and numbers
Can somehow be translated or as the case may be transliterated into the
Delicate sloping roman arch
Of a grid locked and grid defying line
Reserved for infinity and Monet's bridges.

So if one were to tell another that
This is what they could do,
And it would somehow make something that could support everything,
Would it be a lie?

Because
If you plot the x's and b's in the right way on a piece of paper
You could make it work, the parabola and things will be right again.

But then
Who has the time to plot each individual point on the parabola, an infinite number of points?
And who has the time, once the plotting is finished in it's neat little row, to take a pencil and a couple of years, and connect the dots?

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all the days were a sun-drenched haze
while the salt spray crusted on the windowpanes...

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That shit was like poetry.

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It is poetry. It's in the poetry forum.

Nice poem.

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Daisy chains, Christmas plays, winter nights and summer days
Fireworks and starry skies, sunset and moonrise.
So much more to see and do, and hopefully it's all with you. ♥
seemenow1990 is worth her weight in gold.

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Quote: from TheFamousLivingDead at 3:43 pm on Jan. 12, 2009

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That shit was like poetry.

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It is poetry. It's in the poetry forum.

Nice poem.

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awesome idea

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Leave well enough alone, annihilate the telephone
Be what only you can see: a curious and odd belief
Meant to walk the crooked mile;
Never blink, never smile

(I hate this length requirement thing in the Intellectual Forum. Sometimes you don't NEED it. )

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Very nice poetry Nora. I applaud you.

(I hate this length requirement thing in the Intellectual Forum. Sometimes you don't NEED it. )

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