Half of Humanity


A Mystery of History or Aragon v Aragorn II


I’m 244 or 6/11

When I’m done, half of humanity will still be alive. I hope they remember you.

Thanos, Avengers: Infinity War

For Ashish Mahto & Inderbir Hair

Four four, 44, 4/4, 4:4
The most common signature
A double heartbeat
Yet an unlucky Time

For 4:44, or 11/11
Was that the time
That men were killed like moths
Or like mosquitoes

Like in the past, a fast of Spain
The mosque eat, O Man-Yet
I am mosquit-O magnet
An unlucky 48 become 24

As 88 becomes 176

0124 will become 53, 28, 1256
or 1609, 42 32, a time of Nix
For if beauty remains in pi squared over 6
Then O Magnet of Time, be in-Stillness Fixed

A Fifth of Seasons

A Fifth of Seasons
A Work in Progress


A Poet sings of a tale once writ
Melodies of the Exiled One’s ways
Of water, wind, and a fire lit
Of the end of seasons, end of days
“Be it winter, summer, spring, autumn
Sung ‘twill be till the Fifth Season’s start
Whether pitch approach top or bottom
Let neither hinder a wishful heart”
Do Forest Dwellers only talk of night and day?
Do Grasshoppers learn a MantisTurtle’s way?

I. Spring





Bells once again are rung
The song of seasons once again is sung
“Be it winter, summer, autumn or spring-ing
Be forgiving, be light, a soft April shower”
Finally, a journey’s motivations’ beginning
A Light is born even in Final Hour

II. Summer





III. Fall





IV. Winter






The poet met a being after-life, after-death
“Are you the Bard of Time, the Writer of Worlds?”
The voice of the answer was as smooth and shiny as silvering silken
“If I’m Death, then I’m Life-Bringer,
If I’m the Messiah I’m the AntiChrist,
If I’m in the past I’m in the future,
If I’m last then I’m first
If it’s spring then I’m Fallen
If I’m Light then I’m Lucifer
If it’s winter for me, it’s Summer for all, in
The mortal realm
I am not the Bard of Time, but
**I and We Contain Multitudes**
I’m Pros of Prose
I’m Gods of Godds
Fe-Male of Male
I-urn of Eye-rony
I yearn for year(n)s
For ages of Aegis
After rows of rows
Of lines and lines
I am what I am
I’m fine in fines
The fine in deFying
The Vine in diVining

I am a Spell-Caster,
Just as you cast spellings into poetry
I conduct magic into the universal orchestra
And today I decide that the Universe’s song
Needs you(re) instrument a little longer
For we’re not yet at the end of this mythology
Not yet at the conclusion of this chronology
At the apex of this anthology:

A Fifth of Seasons, aDrift of Reasons, a Mix of Lesions

The fifth season isn’t a piece of Time like the rest,
It’s a peace, it’s a rest, it’s a break
It’s a re-ordering of the Pasts,
So that better Futures might be written
It’s a Piece of the Present, It Lives in the moment
In this very moment…

So let me cast one final spell
Now Summer is spelled Fall
And Autumn spelled Winter
And Endless Winter will become Endless Summer

At Time’s beginning
Order was separated from Chaos
The fifth season is the power of re-Order-ing…
Spring then Fall then Winter’end Summer

At Time’s beginning
One became Two, and now SEven become One
The fifth season is the power of re-Fusion
The Man, Woman, Grasshopper,
The Poet, Warrior, Mantis-Turtle,
And Umer, a spellcaster, who echoes:
‘I cast magic out of language,
I cast spells out of spellings’

As what’s Even becomes odder
What’s strange, my Stranger of Death, is
The Alignment already showed the true order of seasons
The image of your writing already showed true Order
Thus we rewrite Pasts into one Past
And brighter futures can begin now,
For the fifth season was already upon you
Now return, Seven-as-One, to the past, to the present, to the future
For the Universal Orchestra needs to hear your voice a little longer

Let not one word define you,
Let not a single note bind you,
Let not your home confine you,
Let not a lone song redefine you,
Let all seasons intertwine with you,
As all colours are divine with you:
Be it winter, autumn, spring or summer,
Be it wind, fire, ice or water,
The Fifth Season’s unending shine is you”

The poet returned briefly to the world to finish his work:
“Be it sapphire or blueberry, ruby or lime
Be it metered or unmetered, rhyme or un-rhyme
Be it Winter, Fall, Summer or Spring-Time
When a line’s a circle, a circle’s a-ligns

At last, alas:

*Since there’s beauty left in pi squared by a sixth
Then time reorders itself again to be fixed

* Rewording the ending of In Glass and Ice and The Edge of Mathematics
** From the poem Song of Myself by Walt Whitman

The Edge of Mathematics II

The Edge of Mathematics

The brewing storm is steady on my heels

As perfect a storm as every storm feels…


Its violent screaming’d put thunder to shame

As it drowns out any music it finds

It muzzles thoughts of math without gain

Crunching up souls, destroying minds

So take me t’where music ‘n mathematics meet

So from this storm I may attempt safe retreat


On my journey escaping tempest’s wrath

Horizons trick me into seeing hope

Yet fate’s winding road mightn’t take that path 

Instead of light it may take me to rope

So take me t’where destinies ‘n horizons meet

So certainty in futures may become complete


I took a path up mount’nous terrain

Maybe from a height I’d gain perspective

So I may decide if I am hero ‘r bane

And thus decide to take actions corrective

So take me t’where the light and darkness meet1

So this soul’s battering may at last be beat


Atop, where sky met mountain’s ledges

The blood of skies had painted such a view

Atop I stood on that plateau’s edges

To feel the end of red, the start of blue

So take me t’where the day and night meet

So removing sun would reduce rage’s heat


I looked beyond the cliff to light below

Suicide’s in mind, watching sunsets alone,

Rewound Russel’s ringing thoughts in tow,

Still I’ll live so more of maths be known2

So take me, take me to mathematics’ edge

To that pursuit perhaps my life I’d pledge



At logic’s border, thoughts did scramble

O Mother, I’ve spent enough time on preamble…


Your sorrow still grinds my heart to pieces

Your story still brings tears to bloodshot eyes3

As numbness spreads through souls’ creases

I wish you’d never birthed those lives

That then became the seal of your fate

A binding seal to one not much your mate


The heart that’s crushed and finely ground to dust

For poetry’s very essence is a must

But no amount of petty poetry writ

Would make me for fleeting forgiveness fit

Instead, if I flung myself to my end

Would time rewind, would mistakes amend?

I’d still dream of peace, of time undone

“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil”4

Perhaps in nightmare’s storms we end turmoil…


Departing sun lead to death’s remembrance

To dreaming of another time’s semblance 

A time without noisy storms or battles

A time without me or brothers ‘n sisters

A time where mind never again rattles

A time of silence and not any listeners

Take me beyond the edge of mathematics

Beyond thought and time and such dramatics



No amount of music, no amount of rain,

No amount of tears could wash away the pain

No amount, Mamma, could make us sane

No amount of mathematics could explain…


Why your life was so thoroughly broken

My anger rose and hatred again awoken

I’d break before, now myself I’ll shatter too

Now I’ll make sure my life won’t matter too

From the heights of contemplation I’ll descend

Beyond the edge, finally, I see an end

So take me t’where bodies and ground meet

Take me, please, t’where life and death greet


But even at the end of my living

Even as I fall to death with certainty

The dust of heart still needed forgiving

The storm arrived with utmost urgency 

Asked the dust in twister’s tongue-tied knot:

“What little peace was gained when peace was sought?”

The rushing waves and rolling winds had wrought

Again those absurd thoughts that were thought:


“I’m sorry for everything, oh everything I’ve done”5

By ending my life no sorrow was undone

Residual hatred still remained unwrung

Spiteful speech would never be unflung

So what if some songs would remain unsung?

Dreams remained to change this time forlorn

So take me in my deathly sleep, my storm

Take me t’where the past and future are untorn

So I may fulfill my wish of being unborn


The clock began reversing to become right

As night became day, then again night 

And light became dark, then again light

Horizons flickered in and out of sight

As destinies unwrit would be without blight

Since mothers no longer faced fathers’ might

Children’s minds were now unscarred by fight

Undoing the mistake that allowed me to exist,

Twenty-two years past and I was undone

As parents’ potential fates no longer mixed,

Thirty-two years past and joy had come

If there’s beauty left in pi squared by a sixth

Then time rewind ‘n start again, but fixed6



  1. Inspired by Rumi’s Out Beyond Ideas
  2. A reference to a quote of Bertrand Russel: “I used to go there alone to watch the sunset and contemplate suicide. I did not, however, commit suicide, because I wished to know more of mathematics”
  3. Inspired by these lines from Iqbal’s Urfi (translated): “On the subject of love he wrote such music \ By which red tears are still available to eyes”
  4. Quoted from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “To be or not to be”
  5. Quoted Imagine Dragons’ Shots, chorus
  6. Reworded the ending of In Glass and Ice, by me

In Glass and Ice

Inspired by the beginning of the Wheel of Time

In Glass and Ice

As the raging battles did become fierce
As the stars’ light dimmed and flickered
The Warrior, once proud, armor pierced
Now wishing Death would come quicker
Lay down his arms and lost his will
Yet, at time’s end, Light returned still

“Remove thy armour and sheath thy sword”
Said Light with a voice opening hope’s door
“Your closest voices have gone ignored
Listen, so the sun may rise once more
Remember what it is that you fight for
Is it love and peace, or hatred and gore?”

At once, the blade bathing in Light spoke:
“You used me to destroy all in your way
To break all you loved, when you were broke
Shattering yourself at the end of the day”
“And so,” the ruined armour chimed in
“You wore me to hide your bleeding skin”

So the Warrior went on without his tools
He came across the mouth of a stream:
“That Light makes you into its fool
Your demonic heat turns me to steam
You dirty my water with the dirt of your soul
In my world, but for villain, you have no role”

The Light reassured him, despite his sins:
“Return to your people, they will exonerate
For at the end of time, forgiveness begins”
But his city, abandoned, in a hapless state
In the ruins, a glass shard had a voice too:
“Now, there is nobody left to return to”

Winter, the prolonged night had brought
The sun’s warmth had long been depleted
“Why do you force me to live and rot?
Please let me die, let me be defeated”
Tears frozen on his face began to say:
“No grief remains in even us today”

“In steel and water, in glass and ice
Just a shred of hatred did not suffice
Nothing spoke but your reflection
Endless was your self-aggression
But… ‘Twas justified,” the Light smirked
Revealing itself to be a darkness berserk

Where Light once was now stood Death:
“I made you beg for the end of your breath
As the stars above gave out their final spark
You were so easily consumed by the dark
Because of the truth in what you despise
There never was Light, only your Demise”
There never was hope, never another sunrise

Is there peace in a broken spirit’s end?
Are the flames soothed when you ascend?
Is there any other way to mend broken hearts?
Are Spring flowers born when a demon departs?
The Warrior deserved to die, so Death did swiftly nix
Is there even a bit of beauty left in pi squared over six?
After forever, time ended and began again, now fixed
After eternity, starlight shone again with hope in betwixt

Purple Prose

A Princess and a Man and a Woman

Long ago, and once upon a time
In distant lands, not lacking in rhyme
There lived a princess, oh so fine
Her charm, angelic, her beauty, divine

Dressed in red or purple, gold or white
All would be dazzled by her sight
As if her mere being gave out light
She shined brightly, day or night

The princess met a lonely woman, long ago
Their friendship bloomed as flowers grow
They’d be together, wherever they’d go
All day and all night, don’t you know?

Once a man saw the Princess, overcome with desire
Said he, “Please, let me have her hand, O Sire”
Furious the king became, his face red of fire
“You dare think I’d let you marry my daughter, with that attire?!”

So the man climbed up her tower, as they were not wed
Thought he, “I’ll see her without her garments of gold or red!”
But looking through the window, shocked, he fell dead
For her saw the princess with her best friend in bed

Let this be a lesson for those who mourn,
“Since beginningless time,” hearts have been torn
Unfortunately not just figuratively for the man above
His life ended for lust disguised as love
So live on, don’t climb the tower of scorn
When beauty fades, when spirits become worn
When the lights go out, love’s beginnings are born


(originally written for Grade 12 English, reworked and last stanza written for Mathnews around Nov 13, 2018)

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