I like to pay tribute to famous poets within the text of my poetry.

Generalizing on deduction, let us study the induction, This trick needs no introduction, quoth our teacher Theodore. Take a horse, a black equine, monochrome so we define, A base case for our logic line, learn this well or out the door. A base case guaranteeing claims each follow from the one before. Thusly argued Theodore.

Groups of horses we combine, from two to three or eight to nine. Even thousands pose no sign of trouble for our metaphor. This leads us to epiphany: every horse is ebony. To contradict is felony, remarked our teacher Theodore. At this absurdity we quaked, in unison we did implore: Teach induction nevermore!

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Newton Newton, mind so bright, Did you exclaim with delight? When of our Earth you made a find, Exploiting nature’s symmetry?

When apple tumbled from the tree, Acted upon by gravity, Was it then that you declared: “It grows as inverse distance squared?”

Knowing of this holy grail, Did you compose your wile mail, Addressed to a society, Of royals, with sobriety?

Of Earth and objects spherical, You verified numerical, Wrote your proof that will not shake, Or have me balk for rigor’s sake.

Such objects summon as much force, As if all squeezed down to the source. By calculus, these vectors joint, Can be reduced to but a point!

Newton Newton, mind so bright, Did you exclaim with delight? When of our Earth you made a find, Exploiting nature’s symmetry?

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Go outward! And onward! Let our universe expand; We put our footprints on the Moon, on Mars we soon will land; Our race for space grows feverish; the trendline cannot bubble; For humankind, the trophy lies - in the seeing glass of Hubble; But the crunch! crunch! crunch! The footsteps conjure sweat; Our crew rows on, at low morale, For fear our course is set.

Go outward! And onward! March forth, accelerate, Compute our new trajectory, defiant to our fate; Ever since the dawn of time, not a day has passed, That celestial bodies at horizon, have not sailed out, full mast; The crunching noises grow persistent, I blink - try to forget, The nightmare of our ship collapsed, For fear our course is set.

Though our compass points us outward, it may yet turn back inward, We have no choice but wait and see, jostled, carried windward; Mass begets us gravitation – mass begets us life, But mass in excess pulls the cosmos, to a point of strife; Ignore the crunch, believe my hunch! Let warm hint our fears abet, For fear the Gates of Heav’n are closed, For fear our course is set.

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In a state of low entropy, sitting, All by yourself on the wall, Rotund and smooth-skinned. Of high status and Listed as endangered by The Federal Government. Preciously precarious, Like a ship with an ivy sail. Going to fall, O high-sitter, my little oval.

Not what you used to be. Like autumn leaves. All over the place. In the hooves of eighty horses, In the hands of eighty soldiers, No shape to do anything, ever. The reason paramedics are running their nth lap in panic. In our memories, forever. A new state, with high entropy.

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i look at the sky with you(i look at your sky)you point at a cloud and tell me it looks like a butterfly(it looks like an awarded trophy)ask me anything sweetie i hear mommy(yes sweetie)the sky is the same color as water why? is it showing us the ocean like the magic wall in the bedroom(like a mirror)but then how does it turn off at night;when the moon comes up and the stars

here is secret of how light works;it has all the colors(of the rainbow)blue is at the bottom of the rainbow because it’s bendier(colors that bend bounce everywhere like a manic smug)so we see it greatly(by a polynomial of degree 4)

i look at the sky with you(i look at your sky)

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O woe is me, for though my eyes alight To see thy face and be entranced once more, I’ve no recourse to now abate this blight For I am kept apart from thee by force. I ease my heart with verse at long distance. My life revolves around thine in two ways. Each iamb will your praises sing in trance, Yet as I garner speed, my mind is dazed, For only farther does our distance grow Like droplets slipping down a beaker’s shape. My flaming thoughts have naught a place to go, Conserved they smolder me from heel to nape. Some future generation sure will tell: My cupid crieth, “Takest thee an L.”

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We paid no heed to Mother Earth – So she paid none to us, Environmentalists excepted – They may lie and fuss.

A generation gains great riches – A generation grieves - Blighted by the festering scars – Our inaction leaves.

We once looked forward to the rain – That blessing from the sky, Yet now it stings and smells like sulfur – We sow - we reap - we cry.

Our school has chosen to give students – An extra hole on shirts, Their long exposure to pollutants – Fashion sense subverts.

As Mother Earth runs out of water – Our tugboats spin in dock – Attempting to scoop up the oil – Spilled at two o’clock.

If we had stopped once to consider – Our fragile land of birth – Perhaps today we might have hope – To rectify our Earth.

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A festiful announcement rings On the warge Twolympic stage, “Alice you’ve seen many-a-things But none like these, I’d wage.”

The skencers spin, make feints, take flight, As blades colleen and clash, A quick fliposte and now the fight Is winished in a flash.

The swaulters run with springboards raised, Jump up, dive down, their dorstures prim, As the wise ol’ saying phrased: “Slink before you swim!”

On the slopes of baskiball You’d miss the action if you’d blunk! An ace converts a fast free-fall Into a ten-point dunk.

One, two! One, two! In a canoe A rally reaches brantic states, A second serve stirs hullabaloo, A sudden swerve seals fates.

Here a local specialist, Can records break for global fame, That young junastics medalist From Twossachusetts came.

The rings of these Twolympic Games Half a score, are here to stay, The caroller who holds these flames Will sing ‘til Neptuday.

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See the way we are encircled by the stars at night could be seen as sign of might. But I claim we are merely an

ec- centric speck orbiting our heliocenter. To any dissenter I assure you that even so we

can remain man with a different revolution path: our evolution math will still compute without us as

com- mon denom- inators. Thus cease your phony woes like Act Five Romeos, for even if you question the

sky, its reply to your ego’s long-held convictions marred by my predictions is a frigid and singular

thought: Dot. Dot. Dot. With indifferent attitude the world ignores damnations hurled- only abiding by its own

laws. Hence my cause is to realign your Book’s canon and catch Satan’s plan in advance, else my name is not

Nick. Take your pick. History oft has two sides, one right. Will you have the foresight to admit truth — not persecute?

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