Pythagorean Poetry Revisited

Image result for pythaorus

The Pythagorean Form of poetry takes the western appropriated haikuism into the mathematical realm.

Sensei David Bogomolny recently offered the experimental American Paragraph

This is a derivative of A Ginsberg’s American Sentence, Ginsberg’s response to haikuism. Poets were freed from seasonal cherry 🍒 blossom affectation and 5 7 5 clutter.

See the source image

The Pythagorean however extends poetic form into mathematics. While other invented forms play with meter and syllable counting here formulae are used as the base. A first? Perhaps.

There are many mnemonics for recalling formulae. Take the case of Pythagoras’s theorem stating that “In a right-angled triangle, the square of the hypotenuse side is equal to the sum of squares of the other two sides“. They’ll be variants.

Generally a² plus b² = c²  and in numbers at its simplest 3² + 4² = 5² 

just using the base numbers without squaring we have

One short line [3]

Even side is next [4]

Third, each side squared summed. [5]

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As haiku was bastardised into western thought and syllabic structure, arguably losing much of the gentility of its eastern origins, so too mathematical progression needs bend to needs of poetic meter

At its basic form Pythagorean Poetry has a syllable structure:

3, 4, =5

Dog slumbers, 🐶

Then raises head 🤔

To munch on carrot 🥕

In its slightly more accurate mathematical form

9, 16, +25

Wuhan Virus makes us stay inside,

Rock climbers seek out Candlestick, and Organ Pipes its basalt slick,

They stay at our place overnight, tale telling with slack mouthed delight, and suddenly our lives seem so trite.

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We hear the news

They’ll be transported to parenthood

Life starts again in utero, for millennia t’was always so, but now from test tubes small cells grow.

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editor’s note 1 : first line thought [9 syllables] juxtaposed with second line [ 16 syllables] separate but related thought, combined in 25 syllable third line mashing thoughts together. This is starting to sound like the invented rules over at

P’rhaps they could consider adding in the Pythagorean when next they revise!!

Look forward to your contributions to this new format. Please send to

AS A PRIZE : The first 37 entries will receive a scanned copy of an out of date Domino’s pizza voucher by email or via the blog site, so be quick and don’t miss out.

editors note 2 : Our North Queensland correspondent with excellent technical credentials pointed out some flaws in the basic mathematics of the initial post. Thanks Steve, for pointing these out. thehobartchinaman is so grateful for the advice and made the necessary correction.

Steve, Please let us know if you would like the scanned Domino Pizza voucher, or a scanned Harvey Norman wrap around advertising page from Hobart’s Mercury newspaper as a thank you!


Strange Things

Couchsurfing has recommenced at our joint.

We’ve been doing this for years as hosts and travelled in Europe and Japan pre Wuhan Virus.

CouchSurfing confuses minds. Many believe it’s what homeless indigent folk do. started before the term was captured. CouchSurfing “pays forward” short stay accommodation when travelling. The site’ll give y’all a more dressed presentation than I can. Anne and I have hosted and been hosted by over 250 folk world wide.

With travel returning to Tassie we took the chance to accept a young guy from Chyyna. He wanted to come rock climbing and spent a climbing day at the Organ Pipes and at the Candlestick

See the source image
Candlestick jutting outta Tasman Sea
See the source image
Climbing at Organ Pipes, Hobart

Needless to say we were pleased to see him each evening.

In the evenings we exchanged travel ideas and experiences. While rabbiting on about what a retired gentleman does, I mentioned blogging and writing short stories. He was interested. Especially in my Rock Climbing story.

” Yeah nude free rock climbing!” I offered.

Dang did that pique his interest.

He looked across sheepishly from the black single leather armchair. Anne and I sat hand in hand on the two seater across from him.

“I’ve something to confess, ” he said lowering his voice, “when I started to learn climbing about a year ago, I tried that.”

I nearly fell outta my sofa, quite a feat really as I exclaimed “What!”

“I was reading your blog, and loved your descriptions of the chalk bags and sweat dripping on iPads.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I went back to re read what I wrote.

For the benefit of new readers I’ll reprise the story across the next few weeks.


End closes on election cycle,

Time to reflect on how its gone,

One fella strides ‘cross this debacle,

None other than Scott Morrison.*

Let’s cut it short, bookend it here,

He hails from Sutherland **Shire

As cycle ends, kicked in the rear,

Gauche handling of bush fires.

A stint as boss of Tourism Australia

Puffed up with catchy slogans,

Tagline such as “.. where the bloody hell are ya”

Made Aussies feel like westie bogans***

T’was sprouted by one Lara Bingle.****

An image for us all

But commentaries by Laura Tingle*****

Predicted Scott’s inevitable fall.

As we head into another election,

Remember “Macron, Hawaii, French submarines”******

Leave Scott’s team from your voting selection.

His marketing spin ain’t what it seemed.

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editors note: Our many aussie readers will catch the drift, but for overseas readers unfamiliar with some references we humbly offer following lexicon. thehobartchinaman makes no apologies for ‘coming out’ politically here. I’ll take the coward’s defence any day and say ” He [ScoMo] made me do it.”

.* Scott Morrison, the erstwhile Australian Prime Minister

. ** an LGA to the sou’east of Sydney, with a chip on its shoulder

.*** not generally a term of endearment…..

.**** a model, ie photographed body,

.***** senior member of the elite commentariat

.****** this triplet of events capture the essence of Morrison lies, embarrassment, and self inflicted pain.

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire!

Recently the Australian Prime Minister, Scott Morrison, was caught out in a lie.

A real lie!

Understandably, such changes invoke praise or cynicism depending on political persuasion. These reversals are fodder for political junkies. 

This was not a ‘political walk back’ of  a promised policy proposal. Such proposals are often made in the the lead up to an election to garner votes. Post election a winner or loser, might walk back these policies in light of new data.

In other words it’s what pollies do hey.

The video says it all, I’ll not waste your time writing about it, please review.

Who cares whether ScoMo lied?

He has clearly lied. Not ‘lied’ as some journo’s would have it.

He makes a big deal of his moral integrity and is ‘outraged’ when his own dissembling traps him in a web of deceit and outright lies.

Why does this matter?

If he can’t be trusted to tell the truth on small things, making up stories to spin the news cycle, there’s little else he can be trusted on.

ScoMo is a liar.

He’s gotta go!

BTW, I’ve turned off my US news feeds, but these ScoMo lies have a resonance with the 45th. Have to say I’m proud to be an Aussie when ScoMo can be called on such a trivial matter and be unable to label it false news. Building a reputation as being a liar and untrustworthy should lead to his undoing

For all those reasons

Hearing the news, at once amused

and then I stop to think

Make sense of this, don’t be confused

T’is not insignificant.

They’re raising kids, Aussie tin kids, another generation,

Soon to be born, acclaimed by all, after nine months gestation.

I’ve had my kids, ages ago,

When smartphones weren’t invented

Suffered nights of sleepless woe

Now disposables are scented.

These grandkids come into a life, I’ll not see, death prevented,

But would I trade them for a life that hasn’t been invented.

I wish them a happy journey

Thru’ life’s vicissitudes,

Avoid pain, hospital gurney

But to yourself be true.

copywrite © thehobartchinaman 2021

Lying There

Relaxed or posed, she lies there nude,

Bare skin exposed, it’s far from crude.

Framed up in wood on bedroom wall,

Her bum blows moonies at us all.

Ted painted this at Bellingen

Life classes brought that thrill again.

Could this be Maria? I pause and ask,

It’s hard to tell from this fat arse.

At Norwood High School we first met

Sylph like she drifted, avoiding nets,

Eventually sent to far off convent

To cure the ills of adolescence.

She drifted in and out of my life

Our paths crossed not, I’d found a wife,

How did she met Ted, a mystery,

They’d shacked up close to South Taree.

When I retired to mid North Coast,

My marriage burnt to darkened toast.

Maria and Ted, we met each other,

In time I treated Ted as a brother.

A nursing home’s now where Ted lives,

His daily sustenance, what it gives

He’s ninety, will I see him again?

The guy who painted nude in the frame.