Grant Molnar

"Once we learn to read, we can never again see letters as mere inky squiggles."
—Daniel Gilbert

I wrote every poem here. Neither stanza, line, nor phrase was composed by an AI. Explore my poetry by clicking on the style of your interest.

Echo Acrostics

Haiku

Limericks

Sonnets

A Doctorate Distilled
My thesis seeks to count elliptic curves
With $m$-isogeny and over $\mathbb{Q}$.
To order them by height naïvely serves;
The inverse Mellin transform caps our coup.

I also fashion inequalities
Equivalent to Riemann's star surmise.
My claims are more than mere frivolities:
From LCMs, they readily arise.

I study some summations on the side:
Convergent series, ilk of lesser fame.
I catalogue the laws that these abide,
Then find extensions which fulfill the same.

I strive to prove what's worthy, fun, and true.
In short, arithmetic is what I do.

A New Day
The sky forebodes, o’ercast with somber pall;
A weight that smothers in its heavy hours.
But lo! A clarion flame will burn it all!
The sun will rise with all his potent powers.

The earth beneath lies patient in her shroud,
As still as death, though life may scurry on.
She’ll rise again, resplendent, regal, proud,
To kiss the sun beneath the breaking dawn.

And we alike may lift our weary eyes
Though weighty fortunes rest upon our wings
To gaze upon the luminescent skies
And greet the East and all the hope he brings.

The night is black, but passes sure and swift—
And day is ours, a sudden sacred gift

Scattered Days
Alas for days like scattered golden leaves:
Abandoned litter on the fallow ground.
Another moment tumbles, turns, and weaves,
Then flutters to the earth without a sound.

I rake the days or leaves into a heap.
The vivid mess accrues before my eyes
As half-forgotten dreams are buried deep
And scarlet thoughts assume a drabber guise.

The Tree of Life is rife with verdure now:
She wanes anon as Autumn hastens on.
And though I try, I cannot fathom how
To keep her green, pristine like Summer's dawn.

Lo! Winter looms, and soon I too shall go
To join my leaves or days beneath the snow.

A Strange Encounter Just Before The Dusk
I passed beside a somber little loch
And greeted friendly geese and dapper ducks.
I ventured close and crouched upon a rock...
And here my short report attains its crux.

A sable creature sliced the waters through,
With humps like knuckles of a sodden troll.
Its bulk below the waves was hid from view,
Approach unchecked by shallows, shelf, or shoal.

No log it was, for logs leave no such wake;
Nor fowl fair, for fowls have need of air;
Nor yet a fish, for fish dwell 'neath the lake;
Nor otter, for no otters shelter there.

The thing arrived, triumphant in its race—
Then slipped beneath the black without a trace.

Bare Passion
The grotto where he bled was stark and bare,
Divorced from heaven, hemmed by slabs of stone.
He clutched the oil-slicked basin, wracked by prayer
Too raw and poignant to endure alone.

The cross from which he hung was stark and bare,
Beneath a heaven dark with holy rage.
And Earth herself lamented in despair
As Yahweh’s passing crowned the former age.

The now-forsaken tomb is stark and bare,
And Jesus Christ ascends with glory rife.
The Spirit bearing witness, I declare
That through the Son we have Eternal Life.

The chambers of my heart are stark and bare—
A knock? A voice! My Lord shall enter there.

Another War
Despair is what? A humble river stone
That patient tears have worn and yet will wear
Until beneath my hands it feels like bone
As smooth and soothing as the soul can bear

And what is hope? A hiltless silver knife
That carves the reckless fist that lifts it up
Defiant, drunken, drenched in crimson life:
A giddy wine to fill the victor's cup

If bland despair is anchor to my calm
While heady hope is twin to bloody fear,
Why should my soul reject the meeker balm
And cleave instead to fancies so severe?

As peace is found in loss forevemore
I cannot help but wage another war

Echo Acrostics

Haiku

Limericks

Sonnets

Free Verse

Miscellaneous