I am the number 9-poem

luke1733
luke1733 Members Posts: 1,490 ✭✭✭✭
9
I’m the number 9 in a family of tens.
I’m lost because the tens end with a zero and I can’t fit in.
So the family name leaves me off by ten times plus 9 and me.
How lonely now can a number 9 be?
I spoke once with number 99 and asked her how she felt to be one number off the 100.
Did she feel closer to 100 than the 99, but she replied no, and said for the 100th time I am not with the 100 because I am in the family of nines. One number off can change
my name and although I am a number it means the same.
She told a story and I probably should refrain, but she told of a list of numbers and how they came.
There first was one that started it all; and from this one came us all. If we stayed one then maybe the numbers would never have changed, but then came two and that changed everything.
So the battles were fought and some were lost. Some in the hundreds of thousands and we all know what that cost. To lose one is one too many, but the numbers were strong. The numbers were plenty.
The numbers split into how they came and now I should tell you of our little game.
The googolplexian is far from one, but if you add one to it than what does a googolplexian become?
From there we can say if the one was not added and instead subtracted then that one and only one makes for the entire story actually, so it’s done.
But between the two there is so much in between, not as much as colors but in everything there are some shades of gray.
The numbers classifications can now be understood this way.
The hundred million are closer to the million than the billion.
The thousand are closer to the million than the hundreds. Inside of the thousands there are many hundreds and inside the million are hundreds of thousands. It is only the 9 that stand alone. And it is because of this foundation the others have grown.

Comments

  • luke1733
    luke1733 Members Posts: 1,490 ✭✭✭✭
    edited December 2016
    Other poems:
    Albatross:
    An albatross and a phoenix met to share more than a kiss.
    From their relations came time reshaped, slowing the speed of lightness mixed within the abyss.
    The Lochness met a pterodactyl and then shared an abominable secret to which
    Big Foot found out and has been running from ever since.


    11 Alive 8'o clock News
    2 friends, 2 ski masks, 1 store, 1 car, 1 idea, 6 blue lights, 12 uniforms, 1 negotiator, 4 hostages, 4 victims, 3 customers,
    1 cashier, 2 dead, no more hostages. 8'0 clock news comes on. Millions watch time.

    I'm Looking For You

    1.

    Blisters on my back, boils on my feet, the sun cooks my head and ? is on my hands.
    Sizzling-heat waves over the desert sand, where water used to be---life is now desolate, barren land.
    Buzzards circle around the white hot sky,
    I think I'm near the end, but I'll give it another try.
    As long as I'm looking for you I have a reason not to die..
    Fish bones on top of used brittle snake skin.
    Dante's Inferno, I'm looking for love again.

    I'm Looking For You
    2.
    I smell that you were here. A clue of you my dear. Warmness locks my throat,
    I’m choking on gasps of hope. Where could you be? Who took you away from me?
    Nothing said when you left. You did not speak; not a last kiss, not a breath. All those years together and now nothing's left?

    I'm Looking For You
    3.
    Your towel is on the floor, Your nail polish is open.
    Your hair drifts through your brush on the bathroom sink.
    You've been gone for two years and I haven't been able to think.
    I can still hear you sing.
    I think your keys are unlocking the door.
    Should a priest be called?
    I'm haunted by my thoughts of you. A love lost to death. My love lost to death; cruel to see your ghost.
    I feel you in the sheets. They rise tall and smother me.
    The lights flicker and screams are heard. I thought I saw you, I know that sounds weird but that's what I heard.
    Crows nest in the cemetery where your name rests. Words on tombstones are often blessed and pale.
    6 feet under ground without a nail.
    R.I.P, no peace for me. Bats, caves, sulfuric smells, infinity. Pits in
    darkness, flames of hell. Echoing far I hear your voice.
    Tongue so dry, eyes so moist
    My skin is gone, I carry on. My flesh and b one--worn and torn.
    Gnats and worms, sticks and stones. Without you, hell is home, for the best part of me is now Alone.

    I'm Looking For You
    4.
    Left, Left, Left Right Left
    Our arguments take us away to a familiar place we play
    with feelings led astray by spite-- where wrong meets right and makes a left
    and we are left looking for love, wondering if-- there is any between us left.
    I'm looking for you and you're looking for me.
    Neither one of us is where the other should be.
  • prewalt
    prewalt Members Posts: 3
    You are really good at it, want to read more!
  • luke1733
    luke1733 Members Posts: 1,490 ✭✭✭✭
    edited April 2017
    prewalt wrote: »
    You are really good at it, want to read more!

    Thank you. I'll look to see if I have some more to post. I've been working on a novel 800 pgs or getting it published so it's taken away from my recent poetry.
    This is the latest poem, but it hasn't been worked on yet.

    Island Lost

    Reach into my happiest day and pour tears with razorblades dipped in salt to a wound.
    My blood is music crying for my love, loving another tune.
    Leaves are dead where they once were green bloomed.
    Blue skies are grey with snow where once warm islands flowed waves.
    My throat hurts from the screams of your name, my knuckles are left on the wall peeling mixed colors with the stained wallpaper. Pepper. Sugar.
    Graves, dirt, worms. Love buried. Stakes, crosses, crucified, diseased, suffering slowly diagnosis at the doctor of the incurable.
    But Doctor? What do I have to do? To, to, make her love me.
    The cure is not to love her anymore.
    Let her go.
    Feathers, doves, eyelashes, byes, water flowing, strides, paths,
    y’s, sighs, goodbyes.
    My, my, my I'd like to ? you ? . I'd try to scratch my thoughts you itch. I’d strangle you right. Souls fly. I’d give you everything. I’d be your slave. I turn in my pride, my ego, my children, my sister all in for you I would die for you to stay with me alive.

    ? you!
    Damn you.
    Ropes on your wrists, hands behind your back. Chair rocks in the dark to smacks attacked. Spotlight! Sock in mouth. Ankles tied. Lights off.

    Pleasure. Pain.
    Prison.
    Time.
    Love.
    Living just to die. I'm dying without my love. Why? Oh, why, oh why?
    Her music is in my blood.
  • DanSmith
    DanSmith Members Posts: 3
    Excellent poetry. I really love poetry.
    This is my favorite work of William Carlos Williams
    MEMORY OF APRIL
    You say love is this, love is that:
    Poplar tassels, willow tendrils
    the wind and the rain comb,
    tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip-
    branches drifting apart. Hagh!
    Love has not got this country.
  • luke1733
    luke1733 Members Posts: 1,490 ✭✭✭✭
    DanSmith wrote: »
    Excellent poetry. I really love poetry.
    This is my favorite work of William Carlos Williams
    MEMORY OF APRIL
    You say love is this, love is that:
    Poplar tassels, willow tendrils
    the wind and the rain comb,
    tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip-
    branches drifting apart. Hagh!
    Love has not got this country.

    Thank you very very much. I am not familiar with William Carlos Williams (I listen to more rap than read poetry), but I will look him up.