Some National Pi Day Poems (a Pi-ku) # 05 -- To 'Let it Go'

 .

Pi Today
 

.Pi, a math constant

Pi "R" Squared -- Circle's domain

My pi is spelled pie 
.

They aren't always round

Deserts, my favorite kind

My pie is a cake 

.

 

 

Enough of the Senryū set, now, a Pi-ku ditty for "Let it Go"
 

 - -

 3-14
 

Three, one, four 

syl-

lables per line

Happy Pi
Day
to you and yours

- - - -

 

Photos and Poem Copyright © Photos and Poems 2014, Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

International Pi Day reading here (remember pi, aka π.)

I'm linked today with the Real Toads, "Let it Go" with Marion

 

Marion said, "And then write your (new) poem based on the idea of letting go, not holding back, just being yourself and no one else. Enjoy! 

 More of my Pi Day poems here

Today, March 14 (3-14 or 3.14) is Pi Day (link). Pi Day is celebrated mostly by mathematicians but you can join in on the fun, somehow. Me? I am writing thess Pi Poems for my blog. Perhaps next year I will write another Pi Haiku (3, 1, 4 syllables per line)

I am not a mathematician but I do have a math minor to go along with my bachelor of science in economics. For me that involved taking seven college math classes for a total of 21 semester hours.

Differential Equations, DE, was my most involved class that I completed. Advanced Calculus was my 'weedout' class, i.e. I dropped it before completion. Read here to find out why this course "weeded me out."

 

 

Her Cargo

Precious Cargo 

Her cargo was precious, family jewel.

She loaded her daughter into Dad's car.

Car seat required by law, Dad had the best.

Firmly strapped, now traffic to entertain. 

She pulled out gingerly onto the way.

Take the expressway today, she hurried.

It wasn't always like this, she recalled.

From teenage driving she had honed her skills. 

Dad would keep some golf balls on the console,

they had better all be there next morning.

If even one was on the floor Dad knew,

he knew and she heard, "cornering too fast." 

Watch that truck, it's veering from lane to lane!

Toy with it, like the racer she still was?

When she was six she raced her bicycle.

On her racer bike, she would come in first. 

She'd learned from racing in pinewood derbies.

Her car was pretty blue, it always won.

Dad helped with mechanics, she did the paint.

Today though, no racing, she'd stay in line. 

Her cargo was precious, her only girl.

That girl she hoped would win races, her own,

driving her car that Grandpa helped to carve.

She'd paint it pretty, prettier than Mom's.




Photos and Poem Copyright © (Photos 2009, 2011) (Poem 2014) Jimmiehov All Rights Reserved

I'm linked today with the Real Toads, Kerry Says: Create that Flashback Moment!

Kerry's challenge today was to incorporate the element of flashback narrative into a poem. This could be based on real experience or entirely imaginary, but it should have a purpose in creating the emotional mood or background to the present situation depicted.

Pictured is KP, my youngest grand-daughter.  You can see more picture of KP driving here.