Posts Tagged ‘haiku’

pi-kus for pi day

March 14, 2013

I’ve been looking around the twitter-spheroid and blago-blogs and finding that lots of people are writing “pi-ku”s today, a haiku about pi, in honor of pi day:

you go around once
and make an infinity,
of digits that is

But what is a pi-ku, really?  Is a “haiku about pi” the best we can do?  What about my wife’s suggestion (which she came across from Powell’s Bookstore) , where the syllables pay homage to pi’s most well known digits?  Here’s the formula:

— First line: 3 syllables
— Second line: 1 syllable
— Third line: 4 syllables

and used in a sentence poem:

i know, of
pi squared digits

But we can get grosser than that.  What about longer pi-ku sequences, traversing the decimal-dance of pi’s digits:

(3) from where does
(1) pi
(4) originate?

(1) is
(5) it an integral
(9) half (neg why dee ex plus ex dee why)?

(2) maybe
(6) riemann zeta at 2,
(5) times six, square root is

But I digress.  How can you contort pi into your poetry?  Leave your poems in the comments, and don’t forget to enjoy your favorite kind of pi to celebrate the sweetness and the arbitrary transcendental numbers that permeate  our limited understanding of the universe.  Today I enjoyed smitten kitchen’s apple pie cookies.  Smaller size, same great ratio of circumference to diameter.


[1] Powell’s Bookstore’s Facebook Conversation, Pi Day 2013
[2] my favorite approximations of pi, on github
[3] smitten kitchen’s apple pie cookies

poop in my butt: a study in haiku

February 25, 2009

it is always there
some of it will come out soon
i am a machine

do these words resonate with you?  sometimes i get caught in an endless stream, if you will, of thoughts about poop, and where i can find it.  despite being a ruse, i found that the article in love letters inspired a lot of deep thinking for me.  things like “if someone can imagine another person letting the poop out of there butt in an inappropriate place and i can believe it, then that must mean that it happens” and “what i let the poop out of my butt in an inappropriate place?”  then i started thinking “when there is poop in my but i–”  catching myself, i came to understand a new fear i have, a new fear that comes with understanding.  understanding that there is poop in my butt, and always.  sometime soon some of it might come out, but i constantly make it, and this small relief will not stop the deluge of responsibility, the responsibility of putting my poop in an appropriate place.

please:  i invite you to respond, and feel free to do so anonymously if that helps you open up.  but for this post in particular, i’d like to try to have us all write something in haiku as the focus of the piece.  any explanation of other comments are fine, but let’s get creative on our own asses.