Saturday, May 20, 2023

Maths Madness written by Rithika Nadipalli (and edited by Ishita Nadipalli)

Our opinions will never be maths,

they’ll always be odd and somewhat biased.

So, let’s stop ticking them all as facts.

Let’s spot and subtract some wrong ones.


Let’s face it, everything else is so subjective.

There’ll always be greys and that’s fine for me.

At least maths solutions are always objective,

If not nought, it’ll be one, it’s binary.


People often apply thoughts to real lives,

but this view is only half-true.

Facts of life can expire like pies,

but maths stays true, for every issue.


Though people preach they’re always straight,

in some contexts, they may not stack up.

Some people may just not relate,

but in all pages, maths problems add up.


Math’s textbook formats can vary.

Their pages can be A3 or A4,

but their sayings are always stationary.

We all know that 3 plus 1 is 4.


In this world, everything is mutating,

I always navigate an uneven grid.

It's mixed messages feel so grating.

At least maths is as lucid as liquid.


It’s awesome how maths never alters,

I can accept it without any falter.

Hello everyone and I hope you enjoyed this short poem about how reliable and rigorous maths is, and how it provides some security to those confused by a world with its dynamic and diverse politics, contexts, cultures, views and messages. 

I just want to give a big thank you to my awesome sister, Ishita for editing my poem. She helped me make this poem clean, concise, coherent and more celebratory of the fascinating field of Mathematics. 

In line 11, Ishita chose to compare 'facts of life' to 'expiring pies' in line, to highlight the SIGNIFICANT PI SIGN, I overlooked in my draft calculations. Without her additions of other symbols (e.g., pie signs), my poem would have been cluttered with redundant PLUSES and MINUSES. Plus, Ishita's line 11 describing how 'facts of life can expire like pies' is tastier, funnier and more fitting than my duller and more irrelevant line 14: 'fickle facts of life flapping like bats'.

Plus, in line 14, Ishita changed my redundant 'adding' verb with 'stacking' to describe people's arguments as NOT STACKING up instead of my cliched NOT ADDING UP. 'STACK UP' also avoids repeating line 16 where I state that maths problems 'ADD UP' in every media so I am grateful for her great suggestion. 

Thank you Ishita for your ingenious inputs :) You are one of the finest editors I can ask for and this poem would not be the same without your comical ideas :). You are such an awesome writer too, and I hope you get inspired to write some of your own poems someday. I for one would love to read them.

Saturday, May 13, 2023

The Wonders of Worldless Weaving written by Rithika Nadipalli (and edited by Ishita Nadipalli)

I’m a weaver bird, who loves her crafts. 

In my nest of words, I script song drafts. 

I hear some tunes and hunt for meanings, 

my heart can flutter with full on feelings.


At times my mind and songs go wrong, 

I feel stressed, and sad and not so strong. 

I then leave behind my tangled nest, 

and fly away to some forest.


When soaring through the broad blue yonder, 

I no more brood on pointless ponders. 

Once I weave with wordless threads, 

my worries fade, and I feel refreshed.


Weaving waves of wordless wonders, 

washes away those needless words. 

How could a weaver screech or glower, 

when weaving frozen lakes and flowers?


My mind and heart harmonise when I sew. 

My creative juices just so freely flow. 

I can feel each texture, find each hue, 

and take my scenes at face value.


For they’ll always be still, and simple. 

Daisies stay daisies, on dresses or wimples. 

Why peck at flyaway thoughts with poor logic, 

when we can pin down sturdy fabrics?


When my thoughts flitter too much, 

and twist too quick for quills to touch, 

needles untwist and stitch those truths, 

till straightforward, and super smooth.


When my strange song ruffles my feathers, 

when with each edit, it won’t get better, 

I quickly quit, lay down my quill,

and stitch some frills, to feel tranquil.


I always suss what each thread says. 

No needless fuss, no mindless guess. 

Words can’t confuse these works of art, 

threads pause my mind and please my heart.


Weaving rests my battered throat. 

Rather than doubting what I wrote, 

I can run-stitch rainbows, through the sky, 

without asking how, what, where, why?


Once my mind is calm and clear, 

I flock back to my nest, with new ideas. 

Once it's combed, and shows no crease, 

I chirp with hope and inner peace. 

Hello readers.

Thank you for reading my poem, and I hope you enjoyed it. I got inspired to write my own poem from the perspective from an artistic Weaver Bird, after hearing Owl City's House Wren's song from his Cinematic album (about a happy house wren searching for a perfect summer home):

In my poem, my weaver bird usually chirps lovely lyrical songs in her nest of words. However, sometimes she feels flustered, her nest tangles up, and all her songs go wrong.


To unwind, she drops her quill, leaves her tangled nest and flies away. Once she lands in a restful place (e.g.,  mountain or new tree), she weaves pretty, peaceful 'wordless wonders', like 'frozen lakes and flowers'. While weaving, she smiles, feels serene and stimulated. 

My weaver bird always admires her awesome designs without analysing any confusing and controversial meanings, she hears in other songs. She loves how ‘straightforward’ threads speak for themselves. When weaving, she never once has to ‘untwist’ their secrets. Weaving helps her untwist, understand, and express any ‘flighty thoughts’ and ‘truths’ hovering in her mind.

Once she feels calm, she flocks back to her cleaner, newly combed nest of words, and feeling more motivated to chirp or hear new tunes again.


Thank you so much for all your edits Ishita. They bring so much clarity and colour to this poem.


For example, I love how you suggested ‘still’ instead of my unnatural 'concrete' adjective in line 21. Still transports readers into the 'still' woodlands, rather than a static and 'concrete' city. 


I also appreciate how you suggested I use daisies in line 22 to express how woven concepts always stay the same. whatever the context or clothing (e.g., dress, or wimple). Daisies also commemorate the classic, and cheery lazy daisy stitch, so I penned it into this poem. 

I also love how you suggested how some songs 'won’t get better with each edit’ in line 33, when I was struggling to rhyme line 33 with ‘feathers’. Thank you for your witty line Ishita.

Lastly, thank you Ishita for switching my uninspired 'sing' with the more birdlike 'chirp' in line 44. Now, every time I read line 44, I smile, and see a chirping, hopeful, and peaceful bird.


Thank you Ishita for bringing this forest and whimsical weaver bird to life. You shortened and corrected so many wordy lines, making the poem more fluid and natural, like a flowing lake. You are such a naturally talented writer Ishita, and I hope you get inspired to write your own poems soon. I for one look forward to reading them.

Tonight's Evening Sky - Description

Tonight's evening sky is not a unified shade of blue. It is multihued, with a myriad of periwinkle and pale grey, with some albescent st...