by Ewald E. Eisbruc
In Hamburg, the G-20 met, with climate change on top,
the CO2 emissions rising higher, getting hot.
Stores were destroyed and looted in this city on the Elbe;
black bloc in face masks came to share their “Welcome into Hell.”
At Merkel’s birthplace here, the second largest German urb,
hurled molotov cocktails and water cannons hit the curb,
while streets around were strewn with broken glass and charred remains
of makeshift barricades, without the tre(m)bling feedback rains.
World leaders felt the heat heard in Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,”
at crystal-wave Elbphilharmonie near the hoi polloi.
Ewald E. Eisbruc is a poet and art critic of Germany, as seen in his following musical comment: “The Second Movement of Beethoven’s Ninth is exquisite, exciting, beautiful, excelling to the nth degree in Thine eternal universe, o, Lord. If all of life were so enchanting and intense, it certainly would be too much. It would bedraggle as it rhapsodized all sense. My spirit soars—this music is so good. And yet I am not merry when I hear its power take me through so many sounds. I am attentive when my ears are near, enthralled by ‘ts moving melodies, o, zounds! such energy transports me to new awe; I just don’t want to be that close too long.”
High-minded Elevants and Asstronuts
by Sirc de Wee Balu
“…all true believers break their eggheads at the convenient end.”
—paraphrase of Reldresal, in Gulliver’s Travels, Jonathan Swift
For some time, there have been two fighting factions in this land.
They’re called the Elevants and Asstronuts, you understand.
They are distinguished by what they have soaring in their minds;
and both are sure they have the highest thoughts one can opine.
The animosities between these parties run so high;
at times one can discover their ideas in the sky.
They vex each other so, they will not eat, nor drink, nor talk
together, and would rather undergo electroshock.
And in the midst of these superlative, high-flying piques,
they both are threatened by exploding, rocket-launching freaks.
Sirc de Wee Balu is a poet and entertainer, whose name comes from the small archeological site of Balu, attributed to the Indus Valley Civilization (which was with ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, one of Earth’s three earliest civilizations). It is located 22 kilometres from Kaithal, Haryana, in India. His favourite Polish expression is “nie mój cyrk, nie moje malpy,” which translates as “not my circus, not my monkeys.”
by Bradlee Suciew
Headquartered at 200 West Street in Manhattan’s hive,
its sun-gilt, shiny 44 combs rise up to the sky,
a buzzing company providing pollen management,
advice for acquisitions, mergers and th’ advantagent;*
its clients are made up of corporations, governments,
and individuals whose worth abuts the firmament;
it is involved in honey making and in equities;
it deals too in varied treasury securities;
it raids the flowers of the land; its B2B trades fly;
it crosses every line it can with gleeful humming sigh;
it buys and stings, its pockets swell, it’s not afraid to charge;
and Golden Sacks executives swarm through the World at LARGE.
*Advantagent is a neologism created by philologist Beau Lecsi Werd. It is the antonym of indigent. As opposed to the poor and needy, it is the rich and greedy.
Bradlee Suciew (pronounced “suck you”) is a poet fond of Romantic economics—i.e., free enterprise, market capitalism, ah, laissez faire (let the people go/do what they want). He is impressed by the greed of Gates, Buffet, Bezos, Ortega, Slim, Ellison, Bloomberg, and Zuckerberg. His favourite poem is Bernard Mandeville’s “The Fable of the Bees.”
The Kepler Conjecture
by Euclidrew Base
By 1998, the proof of Hales and Ferguson
of the Kepler Conjecture had been polished and was done;
but the solution was so long and complicated that
a dozen refs stopped try’ng to find out if it was a fact.
No packing of congruent balls, Euclidean three space,
has greater density than cubic packing’s centered-face.
That density is π divided by square-root 18,
approximately equal to .74, as seen: π/√(18 ) ≈.740480489
In 2014, then, to verify this proof of Hales,
his Flyspeck team used formal logic in minute details.
With Isabel and H-O-L Light, proof assistants, they
used a computer to appraise what humans could not weigh.
Euclidrew Base is a poet of mathematica. When poet, pirate, spy, and politican Walter Raleigh asked early atomist Thomas Harriot the quickest way to calculate the number of cannonballs in a pyramidal stack, Harriot responded with the function n(k) = (k(1+k)(1+2k))/6, where k is the number of cannonballs on one side of the base.
One of Base’s favourite contemporary mathematicians is Thomas C. Hales, who, after following the suggestion of Hungarian mathematician László Fejes Tóth (1915-2005) proved the Kepler Conjecture with graduate student Samuel P. Ferguson, then also proved the next year, in 1999, the honeycomb conjecture, that a regular hexagonal grid is the best way to divide a surface into equal areas with the least total perimeter, a problem that goes back to Marcus Tarentius Varro (116 BC to 27 BC), the great Roman scholar who lived during the Golden Age of Roman literature.
Hales has also independently reproduced the most important part of Michaël Rao’s proof (2017, though not yet peer reviewed) that completes the field of convex polygons that tile the plane: at 15 pentagons, discovered by various figures from Karl August Reinhardt (1895-1941), one century ago, through to Casey Mann and his group in 2015, along with the regular hexagon and at least 3 irregular hexagons, identified by Reinhardt; and, known for some time, any nonself-intersecting quadrilaterals and any triangles. No tilings by convex polygons with seven or more sides exist.
A Miraculous Escape
by Celewu Saredib
Chaminda Walakuluge, the media spokesman for
Sri Lanka’s Navy, said an elephant, was swept from shore,
while crossing Kokkilai lagoon between two jungle tracts.
Out eight kilometres, the pachiderm was truly taxed.
But luckily it packed its trunk, its snorkel in the sea;
while des-per-ate-ly swim-ming, it could per-se-vere and breathe.
Its rescue took twelve hours, sev’ral boats and divers who,
could tow the mammal back to land from drowning in the blue.
The Fast Attack Craft on patrol were there to save the day,
and helped to reach Yan Oya area in Pulmoddai.
A Memory of Vipulananda Adigal
by Celewu Saredib
In Kalladi near Battacaloa, the Samādhi
of Swami Vipulananda is where one’s soul can be.
Upon gray, geometric squares and octagons, you look
and find a tan and whitish coffin with a giant book.
It is a memory of the Sri Lankan Hindu gent,
who penned Yazh Nool upon the ancient Tamil instrument,
and also wrote Mathangaculamani, with respects,
by using Sanskrit, Greek and English in his Tamil text,
attempting the translation of a dozen Shakespeare plays,
along with other works he wrote, like poems, laws and lays.
Celewu Saredib is a poet intrigued by the island nation Sri Lanka. Here is another tennos on one of his favourite Sri Lankan poets.