Revision
CA tests are so fun,
Like a dildo up my bum.
Revising to pass complete,
In order to compete (in a competitive world in which it’s not just the grade that counts in a physics degree, but also the way in which you got the grade and how good it is in comparison to everyone else’s mark. A 2.1 would cut it as long as everyone else was getting a 3rd, but they’re not, so get that damn first!).
Caffeine
Caffeine in my bloodstream,
My body’s somewhere else it seems.
Time is going very slow;
Venti is the way to go.
Flitting around in my head,
A thousand colours, mainly red.
Make a wordsearch, not take notes;
I don’t care how the curve slopes.
What I Done
Sitting on a comfy chair
Writing about what is there.
Cushions, covers, laptop, me,
There is so much I can see!
Cushion yellow like a nana,
Soft and squishy, makes me calmer.
I was hyped up and excited
So I sat down and I writed.
Misha Portnoi
Misha Portnoi talks a lot,
And he has an abnormal bald spot.
He can write things on the whiteboard,
While he struts around in his cords.
He can talk in depth about pressure
When he gives his Russian lecture.
He does ramble and conjectures
About the things on the projector.
(Written in a lecture given by said lecturer)
Porcupine
I don’t know why I eat it in the morning,
I don’t know why I eat it at dinner time.
Maybe it’s because I’m a porcupine,
That I eat spaghetti all the time.
(Also written on the way to school about 5 years ago, on a bike, with a guy called Dan)
Ham and Brie
Woke up Sunday morning at a quarter past three,
I’m rather fat so I went to have tea.
Imagine my surprise when I came to see
We’re out of ham and brie.
Didn’t know what to do so I went to the shop,
But I’m rather fat so I had to stop.
I collapsed and nearly died,
And guess what,
Nobody cried.
(Written on the way to school about 5 years ago, on a bike, with a guy called Dan)
Spaghetti
Sketty is delectable,
Its shape is quite correctable.
I goes in sauce
And beef of course
And it’s almost undetectable.
[Due to its near 1D shape]
(Written on my girlfriend’s fridge while she was cooking for me)
Robots
Tiny robots in the sky,
Little machines floating by.
Shooting across the stratosphere
Where the air is crystal clear.
Strolling androids on the floor,
Where the dinosaurs walk no more.
Leaving tracks with metal feet;
Whirring noise not so discreet.
Artificial intelligence,
Living things, no parents.
Does it think? I cannot say,
I hope I find out one day.
Who’s to say that sentience,
Is something not built on our pretence?
I dream ahead of a world where
My metal friends exist to care.
(Written in a CU pub quiz during a talk (I am not a Christian, but I do like free quizzes))
