Mathematics For Poets

Just a few times in life you meet someone a bit special. At a party during Christmas I came across a guy who made a real impression on me. He was not a corporate thruster. He was not a "get out of my way" Mister Important. He appeared to have no interest in Maserati executive cars or money. He was a little old guy, wearing a suit and looked up at folk through his eyebrows. I saw several youngsters chat and smile with him. He knew their names. He knew the names of their brothers and sisters. I wrote a poem about him. I hope the smallness of my work reflects my respect in inverse proportion.

Dr Czaykowski



His name, he said

was a common denominator

In Poland.

He was the numbers guy

swept here by War

and placed in brackets

outside the theorem's QED.

His people too

were in the numbers game,

marching to the one way algorithm.

Finally he could not go home

but stayed to bless

the countings of children.

No such inversion in his heart

nor in his inner tongue

subtracted by History.

Yet he lived,

smiling uncalculated

love by numbers.