No title available
noise dept.
if i look back, i am lost
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
trying on a metaphor
Noah Kahan
Sade Olutola
occasionally subtle
Kiana Khansmith
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Mike Driver
No title available
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
🪼
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
pixel skylines
RMH
#extradirty
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Italy
seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Canada
Poetics Problem Set #4: Fibonacci YOU by Trista Hurley-Waxali
Message Received
by Trista Hurley-Waxali
My touch keyboard lights up, as I
validate his ego,
innuendo filled responses gets filed
under “Tom.”
She desperately searches, like a squirrel in a
snowy winter
but his sculpture like responses, keeps
his wife at bay.
One day she’ll find me, delete my info
and selfies.
So until that day our chase continues,
tending to my phone.
Finally! A new Poetics Problem. Solve away in any media! All submissions get published!
If so, that would help explain some mysterious things about math.
"But if math is only a product of the human imagination, how do we all end up agreeing on exactly the same math?"
Get ready! The next Poetics Problem is in the works!
The high-tech poetry competition, which explored how computer code can be read as poetic language, is accepting submissions for the next competition.
PPS #3: Hint by Khadija Anderson
Hint
Where we will land is anyone’s guess it could be on XY if that even is a place
Betty says her sister is smart but she is prettier of course, that’s always the problem in America
South by north east gets you back where you started and then there’s that pesky train
That’s always the problem worse than the others worse than XY or Betty’s sister
PPS #3: Tip your Valet by Trista Hurley-Waxali
Tip Your Valet
Valet ticket sticks to sweat. Shaking on the seat.
His wife calls, he flags the waiter. Our room unchecked.
Prada heel stabs the pedal. Lingerie goes unseen.
“Ma’am, can you move your car?” “Sure, off a cliff.”
Vi Hart explains Fibonacci Spirals with pine cones and puffy paint!
With the new year approaching, it's time to reflect on our gifts, experiences, the people in our lives, on our ever-changing selves. What better way to visualize that than with a Fibonacci Spiral? Enjoy! Send pics, send poetry, send music--math is all around us!
Everyone gets published!
On Her 39th Birthday Betty Found Jesus or in L.A. Jesus drives a Cadillac and Satan drives a Prius
By Teka-Lark Fleming
Title- On Her 39th Birthday Betty Found Jesus or in L.A. Jesus Drives a Cadillac and Satan Drives a Prius.
Betty has a car.
Betty drives her car.
Betty parks her car.
"How good are those on gas?"
"Great!"
"Important for global warming, you know?"
Betty leaves her car.
Betty goes to a bar.
Betty orders a drink.
"It is my birthday."
Betty drinks the drink.
"Are you here —alone?"
Betty laughs.
Betty orders another drink—Betty drinks the drink—Betty orders another drink—Betty drinks the drink—
Betty orders another drink—Betty drinks the drink—Betty orders another drink—Betty drinks the drink—
Betty orders another drink—Betty drinks the drink.
Betty goes to the bathroom.
Betty splashes water on her face.
Betty snorts a single line of coke.
Betty takes a single Vicodin.
"Better," Betty says.
Betty looks in the mirror.
Betty reapplies her lipstick.
Betty pays her tab.
"Are you OK?"
"I'm fine."
Betty tries to find her car.
Betty walks walks the perimeter of the parking lot.
(23 feet)
Betty does it again.
Betty finds her car.
Betty is happy.
Betty puts the keys in the horn.
Betty's car doesn't move.
Betty is sad.
Betty puts the keys in the ignition.
Betty's car starts.
Betty is happy.
Betty drives her car.
Betty has a head on collision.
(Those bright lights are Jesus.)
"Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."
Betty head cracks the window and steel impales her thighs.
Betty is anointed with blood.
Betty is dead.
Happy birthday Betty.
PPS #3 From Rebecca Vee
The plane dropped off two cities long and wide.
some man texted her tessellations and she lost.
that's when the map to the scars led her back home
with points A and B
mocking
like a Q and A
The first six books of the Elements of Euclid in which coloured diagrams and symbols are used instead of letters, by Oliver Byrne; 1847; W. Pickering, London. Pictured, pages 36 and 39 (dependent on copy format).
Possible geometries.
PPS #3 Solution from Chad
11 miles
PPS #2 Solution from Pedro
X = (desire to do something greater x vision divided by resistance plus patience x discipline) x (taking chances + allowing yourself to change your mind) + love
PPS #2 Solution: "Hooked" by Gregory
I overslept again. My eyes burned and the knots in my stomach tightened as I shuffled to get out of bed. I reached overhead for the crutches and achingly stood up.
I was miserable. Not one of my friends came to visit, I was devoid of all human contact outside of my family. Everyone was so isolated and busy.
One night an opportunity presented itself for me to speak with a person that had caught my interest months ago but I knew very little about. I met her at a party, and she captured my attention immediately. As predicted though, she was taken and I wearily moved on.
However, on this particular night I sat in earnest as I read a group message from a now single, beautiful young woman that requested phone numbers be sent to her new phone. My interests peaked and I couldn't resist. The potential for a friend, for romance - an outlet for my humdrum existence. I picked up my phone and immediately dialed her number.
But wait, what do I say what do I do? Do I text, call, message back? I didn't even know much about her, we never even had a conversation together. How do I not mess this up?
I did what most everyone does when they are at a loss for words and are looking to impress. I picked up some Shakespeare and began to search for the right lines to quote, those that stood out to me. I typed up what I found and contemplated how I was going to mess this up. Never had I sent something like this to someone of such interest, someone who wouldn't even recognize my number or even my name for that matter. But I didn't care, this was my opportunity and by my good fortune, I took the risk and sent it.
Hours came and nothing. It was later in the evening but not late enough for a response. I messed up, I knew it. She probably read the text and had no interest in a response to some weirdo. Too much too soon. Another lost opportunity. I went to bed with a tinge of regret on my tongue.
The next morning I contemplated texting her another message apologizing, saying it was all a bad joke.
It was around noon that day when my phone went berserk. Bzzz bzzz bzzz bzzz one, two, three, four...
I counted in amazement as my phone received message after message. Like a kid on Christmas Eve, I gleefully opened the first message without hesitation.
I couldn't believe it.
Word after word there lay before my eyes an articulate and thoughtful response to the Shakespearean passage. It wasn't until the last text did she even ask who I was.
How about that?
We spoke for two weeks straight following that day, and went on our first date shortly thereafter. She was more than I could imagine. I found someone special. Someone relatable. A companion. And all of it through our words, a true reflection of ourselves.
I was hooked.
PPS #2 Solution from Ben Goddard
"All of the photographs are self-portraits in which I explore preconceived notions of adulthood, masculinity, and human success."
http://www.goddardben.com
PPS #2 Solution: "Summer Camp" by Kelly Thomas
1.
Tiny, golden incidents help us turn Seiichiro into a rock star.
“What is the man doing?” I ask.
We look at a full-spread photograph in an old National Geographic of a man walking along a cliff. The bulk of the photograph is the thin lines of elevation change and rocky slope that coat the cliffs. There are tufts of fabric stuck in broken fences. There is nothing obvious about the photograph, and I wonder why I chose it to tempt silent Seiichiro into speech.
“What is he doing?” I say.
“He is throwing away his trash.”
“And what is he thinking?” Seiichiro looks into his lap and types on his hand-held dictionary.
“He is thinking about his instability,” he says.
“Emotional or physical instability?” I point to my heart first, and then wave my hands around, signaling imbalance.
“Emotional,” he says.
2.
“I wanted to tell you something,” she says. “You know I like a lot of people here, and that when I walk up over there with my food I could sit anywhere and there would be my friends. But I think you are my best friend.”
I might have made a mistake when I decide to give one ball of flaming wick at the end of an arm-length chain to Mila. We are in that valley between our two buildings for Boys and Girls, and it is almost time for Check-In. I pull out my fire tricks to break up the sexual tension that makes these warm nights impossible and our promises to parents hard to keep.
Mila's hair is like twigs or twigs on fire—wicky underbrush crowding a forest floor. Bangs cut sharp float just above her eyes. Her clothes are always baggy. She spins round and round with my flame.
“Just keep it moving so the fire doesn't snake up the chain onto your hand,” I say.
The flame goes out and she proceeds to hit herself right in the face: a black smear, a hatchmarked circle on the slope of her nose and her cheek. She giggles and her eyes go crazy, like they did the first time we bonded.
It was the Sushi Night that I talked Seiichiro into hosting. He is not speaking, but instead demonstrating, with perfectionist standards, how to slice a microwaved dish of cooked egg with a plastic knife for Tamagoyaki. Mila walks up in front of me and nudges her back against my front and within seconds she has me on her shoulders.
“My mom doesn't let matches in my house,” she tells me later.
3.
“Of my life or of these three weeks?”
“Three weeks first and then life.”
“Three weeks will be hard. That I am not the only crazy one?”
“That is my favorite part too. That I am not the only crazy person.”
“And of life, was before I came here and I ran on the beach and then went swimming without any clothes on.”
“We call that skinny dipping.”
“It was funny. My two best friends we were on the island and there were boys watching and people on the beach. But we took our bikinis off and they laughed. And we ran into the water.”
