This poem by Halifax mathematician and poet, Robert Dawson, appeared in LabLit in December 2012 (just in time to offer gentle mocking of predicted disaster)! Enjoy!
Survivor's Guide to the Baktun-13 Bug by Robert Dawson
As you may know, at this years’ Winter Solstice
the 12-baktun Long Count will overflow.
Mathematical language can heighten the imagery of a poem; mathematical structure can deepen its effect. Feast here on an international menu of poems made rich by mathematical ingredients . . . . . . . gathered by JoAnne Growney. To receive email notifications of new postings, contact JoAnne at joannegrowney@gmail.com.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Solving equations . . .
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Algebra cadabra
It was my good fortune to meet Colette Inez back in the early 1990s when she was poet-in-residence at Bucknell University. Then, as now, I was collecting poems-with-mathematics, and I have long loved this poem that weaves figuring into forests.
Forest Children by Colette Inez
We heard swifts feeding in air,
sparrows ruffling dusty feathers,
a tapping on stones, mud, snow, pulp
when rain came down, the hiss of fire.
Counting bird eggs in a dome of twigs,
we heard trees fall and learned
to name them on a page for school.
Forest Children by Colette Inez
We heard swifts feeding in air,
sparrows ruffling dusty feathers,
a tapping on stones, mud, snow, pulp
when rain came down, the hiss of fire.
Counting bird eggs in a dome of twigs,
we heard trees fall and learned
to name them on a page for school.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
A poet (math-daughter) speaks of math's beauty
I met Minnesota poet Roseann Lloyd when we served together on an AWP (Associated Writing Programs) conference panel on translation several years ago. There I was considering, as I so often am, the translation of mathematics into representations that poets understand. Roseann 's father was a mathematics professor and she learned early that "mathematics is its own beauty." And she has permitted me to offer you this poem.
HOW MY DADDY CHANGED WHEN HE GAVE UP TEACHING COLLEGE FOR SELLING INSURANCE by Roseann Lloyd
Once Daddy enthralled his students at SMS --
handsome in his navy blue suit and dusty hands,
chalk clicking out equations lickety-split.
A third-grader, I waited for him every day
in the cool marble hall. Listened to the rhythm
of the chalk on the board. Even then I knew
that pure math is an art equal to music, second
only to poetry in the realm of beauty.
HOW MY DADDY CHANGED WHEN HE GAVE UP TEACHING COLLEGE FOR SELLING INSURANCE by Roseann Lloyd
Once Daddy enthralled his students at SMS --
handsome in his navy blue suit and dusty hands,
chalk clicking out equations lickety-split.
A third-grader, I waited for him every day
in the cool marble hall. Listened to the rhythm
of the chalk on the board. Even then I knew
that pure math is an art equal to music, second
only to poetry in the realm of beauty.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Counting responses
At the Poetry Foundation website, poet Audre Lorde (1934-1992) is described thus:
and her creative talent to confronting and addressing
the injustices of racism, sexism, and homophobia.
Here is a counting poem by this fine, bold poet:
A self-styled "black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet,"
writer
Audre Lorde dedicated both her life and her creative talent to confronting and addressing
the injustices of racism, sexism, and homophobia.
Here is a counting poem by this fine, bold poet:
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Inequality of Compromise
This past week I attended a wonderfully stimulating BIRS (Banff International Research Station) Conference -- a gathering of creative writers in mathematics and the sciences -- and, as I told colleagues at Banff of early days in my long-term interest in the poetry of mathematics, I recalled the fine collection Against Infinity: An Anthology of Contemporary Mathematical Poetry (Primary Press, 1979), collected and edited by Ernest Robson and Jet Wimp. Today I pulled it from my shelves and again turned its pages. "Compromise" by Missouri mathematician Charles S. Allen caught my eye. Here it is:
Monday, November 11, 2013
The minute in infinity
From Treatise on Infinite Series by Jacob Bernoulli
Even as the finite encloses an infinite series
And in the unlimited limits appear,
So the soul of immensity dwells in minutia
And in narrowest limits no limits inhere.
What joy to discern the minute in infinity!
The vast to perceive in the small, what divinity!
Translated from the Latin by Helen M. Walker
Found in the anthology, Strange Attractors: Poems of Love and Mathematics (A K Peters, 2008), edited by Sarah Glaz and me. A complete table of Contents for this collection may be found here.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Like advanced math?
One thing leads to another . .. . poet Amy Eisner connected me to mathematician Jordan Ellenberg who knew of Easy Math (Sarabande Books, 2013) by Lauren Shapiro -- and Lauren gave me permission to post her "Bent Syllogism."
Bent Syllogism by Lauren Shapiro
There was a pattern to the way the mythical beasts
flew over the dreary town, but we were too dreary
to understand it. The psychologist, too, was in touch
with extraterrestrials, but she had to stand on the spire
of a church and wear 3-D glasses to see them.
Bent Syllogism by Lauren Shapiro
There was a pattern to the way the mythical beasts
flew over the dreary town, but we were too dreary
to understand it. The psychologist, too, was in touch
with extraterrestrials, but she had to stand on the spire
of a church and wear 3-D glasses to see them.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Love mathematics!
In the stanzas below, I have some fun with math terminology. Hope you'll enjoy it too.
Love! by JoAnne Growney
Love algebra! Through variable numbers
of factored afternoons and prime evenings,
party in and out of your circle of associates,
identify your identity, meet your inverse.
Love! by JoAnne Growney
Love algebra! Through variable numbers
of factored afternoons and prime evenings,
party in and out of your circle of associates,
identify your identity, meet your inverse.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Neruda speaks of numeration
The collection, Late and Posthumous Poems, 1968-1974 (Grove Press, 1988) by Chilean Nobelist Pablo Neruda (1904-1973) offers to readers a collection of Neruda's later work, ably translated by Ben Belitt. Here is a poem that explores the vast world opened by the invention of numeration.
28325674549 by Pablo Neruda
A hand made the number.
It joined one little stone
to another, one thunderclap
to another,
one fallen eagle
to another, one
arrowhead to another,
and then with the patience of granite
the hand
made a double incision, two wounds,
and two grooves: and a
number was born.
28325674549 by Pablo Neruda
A hand made the number.
It joined one little stone
to another, one thunderclap
to another,
one fallen eagle
to another, one
arrowhead to another,
and then with the patience of granite
the hand
made a double incision, two wounds,
and two grooves: and a
number was born.