by Ashley Lister
I’ve never liked mathematics. When I was at school, pocket
calculators had just been invented. For me that seemed to make the concept of mathematics
redundant. Why did I need to learn algebra and equations when I could get a pocket
calculator to do that stuff for me? Nowadays, when I possess a smartphone that’s
capable of doing advanced mathematics with very little input from me, my need
to know how to manipulate numbers has become almost obsolete.
However, I think it’s important to know about Fibonacci numbers.
For those who are unfamiliar with the concept, this is the number series that
goes 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21… As you will have noticed each number is the sum
of the previous pair of numbers.
This can be applied to poetry, specifically with the syllabic
form of the Fibonacci Poem:
You
Me
Us two
Together
Naked and awkward
Until you do that special thing
And I respond with a kiss that never seems to end
The length of the Fibonacci Poem is your choice. The one I’ve
penned above goes up to a 13 syllable line, the one below only goes as far as
the eight syllable line.
Spank!
Ouch!
Buttocks
Warm and red
Deserving much more
Spank spank, spank, spank, spank, spank, spank, spank.
Whatever length you decide to work with, it would be fun to
see your Fibonacci Poems in the comments box below.
Ash
Fellatio
by Lisabet Sarai
Lips.
Tongue.
Penis
spilling tears,
smearing my eager
cheeks. My mouth seeks the searing heat
of your silky, swollen, unrelenting, urgent cock.
I'm on my knees, brought to shameless begging for one blessed, bitter taste of your desire.
The last is wrapping (21 syllables) but should be one line. And you have to scan "blessed" as two syllables, as in "Blessed be".
Don't you just love the way these forms make us focus on our pronunciation? I was reading 'tears' as two syllables at first (tee-urs, the way we pronounce it here in the North of England) and it's a cool reminder that I should be reading your poem in your voice: not mine.
Love it.
Ash
Thanks, Ash. Writing this was an interesting experience. The words came spilling out with their own rhythm, telling me how they wanted to be pronounced.