Richard Cory Version 2.0

This poem is based off of the original Richard Cory.

Richard Cory Version 2.0

We watched the poor man.

Sometimes we offered the worker bread.

In his rags, blessed with agony,

he continued as if everything

depending on the next moment.

We often gave him our pennies and he

thanked us with glee. He was human,

but he was hardworking. He did not

curse his bread but accepted fate

no matter what it was.

He believed in the American Dream

and pursed it like a madman.

Each step he took,

pushed him one step closer

to his better future.

He upgraded from a card board box to a shack.

From just bread, to bread with cheese.

All was well with the man climbing the ladder.

Until one autumn night. He was killed…

by a hobo who wanted his shack.

Magen Kumquat[Dark/Reality/Allusion]

The Origin of (0,0)

The Origin of (0,0)

Aren’t we all moving,

it some frame of motion? The Earth

spins yet we do not feel it. It rotates

every 24 hours around the golden sun,

whom rotators around someone else.

In this whirlpool of madness,

it is then not true that we never stop moving?

After all, each orbit adds additional layers

of motion to the merry-go-round of Earth.

So that begs the question. Is there

an external location that we can use as the
“origin” in terms of graphical analysis,

or are stuck knowing that there exists

no ABSOLUE origin to create our model

called the Universe?

Magen Kumquat [Science/Reality]

The Moon

The Moon
Today is the blue moon on January 2010.
Up above the yellow glow cuts the dark night sky.
It towers above us and gives people its safe
glow. Its power of distant, yet it known
by all of mankind. Man, women, child
the moon is a symbol.
I stare at its perplexing glow, at its perigee.
The beautiful object, floats and lights the way for
lost travelers in the mountains. The circular object
watches over man kind like a guardian angel. It
shields us from meteors and gives us the tide.
It stabilizes the Earth and gives us
a jumping point to other neighboring planets. Its
power is unique and truly its own. I hope my friend
in Tarturus is enjoying the last night.
Magen Kumquat [Life/Game/Allusion]

What is Time

Waiting. The hourglasses of fate sway

left and right. The fine colorless sands drop….

from one vile to another. No one can see

the particles but we can all hear it.

We ourselves do not know what time

truly is. We can’t see time moving but

we can see everything else changing.

Mathematicians and physicists, know that

quadratics can have more than one solution.

But is it possible to have negative time when

math proves it?

What is the true metric of time? Is there

truly any ruler to measure it or are we just applying

something that we shouldn’t have? No matter the cause

time is still flowing, even after finishing this poem.

Hourglasses still flow indefinitely until the end of time

or until there’s no more sand.

Magen Kumquat [Time/Reality]