November Notes Day 16 /Photochallenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Immeasurable” #photochallenge #poetry #amwriting


For November Notes the song is “Words as Weapons” by Birds. I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge Prompt.


Credit: Discrete


“Words as Weapons” by Birds


You can try to measure her angles,

Try to rationalize her curves.

Measure her so your comprehension of her is scientific;

But to math and science she’s absurd.

She has no rhyme or reason,

And you can’t make a person a logical equation.

Her body is not algebra,

Nor is she a kind of Cosine, Sine, or Tangent Angle.

You can use your words as methodical weapons,

To untangle her qualitative values,

But your words like swords will never cut to her core.

She’ll use her tears as numerous weapons,

And you can’t measure those.

Their quantitative value is beyond this world.

And she’s no statistical value,

She isn’t found in Trigonometry or in quadrilaterals.

And you’ll find no help about her in Epistemology;

Nor any philosophical math or logic.

Some things in life are beyond words and equations,

They aren’t logical or reasonable,

They are what they are.

And if you love all her curves and angles,

Can’t you let that be enough?

There’s no need to hypothesis,

To predict the future or the next hour,

So what if her face is symmetrical?

You can use your words as abject weapons,

To untangle her qualitative values,

But your words like swords will never cut to her core.

She’ll use her tears as numerous weapons,

And you can’t measure those,

Their quantitative value is beyond this world,

It’s called feeling and living in the moment,

Joyeux de Vivre or spontaneity,

No being afraid to let life happen,

To have Passion in the here and now.

Though you find it easier to measure and quantify your life,

Perhaps quality is a better goal?

And if such beauty you behold,

That you cannot find the exact right words,

There are other ways to show your love.

You can use your words as hurtful weapons,

To untangle her qualitative values,

But your words like swords will never cut to her core.

She’ll use her tears as more painful weapons,

And you can’t measure those,

Their quantitative value is beyond this world.

Before your mind starts to unravel,

In charts and graphs and parabolas,

Accept her for the flower she is,

Blooming without thought or reason,

In the midst of a freezing winter.

She is who she is and she isn’t a number,

Not even a poem,

She’s only and always a woman,

Her worth immeasurable,

Her love beyond equations and perfect values.

She is your summer in the bitter cold of life.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved