Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQYZm3w3RPc
After a torturous hour of math (algebra to be exact) I start dinner: Middle Eastern stew: Cardamom, Coriander, and Turmeric. Cooking is a little like math, but much more like art. My mind begins to ease as Bach pumps out one of his symphonies from the CD player. The stew boils, and I want to go outside and play, chase windmills. Where's Sancho? Dulcinea's here, frustrated by my inept ability in the equation game. I f*****g despise algebra. Where's the Bluebird, the Sunflower, Bukowski or Eugene O'Neill? I want to smell a six-week-old puppy, taste Van Gogh yellow, f**k until I can't walk, and ease my way into old age. Vivaldi plays his victorious song. And I know I'll conquer the numbers game, but probably not before it drives me crazy; actually, it's a short putt.
i never understood algebra ... it simply had no appeal for me at all .. i failed it miserably .. didn't need it to graduate so i didn't care much about that. what a collage of scents, sounds, colors and warmth of your cooking stew ... all background to your pain and suffering ... should you change your name to "short putt"? :)))))))))))))) luv and peace brother!
E.
This piece feels like a storm of frustration turning into poetry — math versus art, logic versus longing. The scent of spices and the sound of Bach paint such a vivid tension between discipline and desire. Sometimes escaping that chaos means finding rhythm elsewhere — even spinning luck for a moment at https://spinsycasinos.com/
After an hour of algebra, I think I would need resuscitating. Maths is not my strong point and never will be. The cooking smells good and I love classical music. Bukowski though, is not quite my cup of English tea. Please forgive me :)
i never understood algebra ... it simply had no appeal for me at all .. i failed it miserably .. didn't need it to graduate so i didn't care much about that. what a collage of scents, sounds, colors and warmth of your cooking stew ... all background to your pain and suffering ... should you change your name to "short putt"? :)))))))))))))) luv and peace brother!
E.
this is raw .. it seems that we have similar tastes .. now ya got me thinking .. are we related or could it be something to do with that rogue Y chromosome .. Neville 😎👍
Thomas W. Case was born in Oxnard. He has published 3 volumes of poetry. The Bullfrog Dreams of Flying, Artichokes, Avocados, and Van Gogh, and Seedy Town Blues. He has won several poetry contests. Hi.. more..