Tag Archives: Poetry

An exam week poem

12 Jun

I’m only as good as the numbers I get,
And where my name reads in the rank,
And when it’s all through and I feel rather blue,
I’ve a lack of distinctions to thank.

I want to be special! Why can’t they see
The fire and drive in my soul?
I learn all their facts and spew them all back,
But the numbers have taken their toll.

What if they tested our imaginations?
Our dreams and our wishes and words?
Our visions and pure creativity?
The manifestation of free thought, free ourselves from the shackles of their rigid schemes of theories and textbooks

And then dance, leap through the burning sky into pools of warm honey-coloured light,

Come to rest on clouds that seep through our pores,
Enrich us, fill us up with whatever it is that links us all,
That shimmering shared consciousness that shines through
In literature and colour and protest and moist earth and the wind,

The tiny, spun-glass fragments of collective experience melted to sugary syrup
And formed into one, giant marshmallow of a dream,
A castle of sweet pockets of air and creamy walls that embrace all of us,
No matter our size
or shape
or religion
or birthplace,
Why can’t we just FEEL, and be graded on a scale of emotion and passion and feelings?

Then I remember I don’t do an arts degree.

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111

5 Jan

One thing,

With jaws strung with cords of slaver

and eyes sunken, blinking at the light, unfamiliar,

and drinking in the hollow victory,

Pasty, pointed, barking

Cocooned in sugar

Disguising horns and spines that find targets indiscriminately…

 

One thing, and another

that perches, ears pricked and nose prickling

on the beasty’s lap,

(hold your art history books to a mirror, ladies and gentlemen)

Oh its eyes glow with happiness

as its hair is brushed and threaded with ribbons.

Little puppy won’t cry tonight.

Not tonight.

 

One thing, and another, and another

that rears its cliché of an ugly head

and mixes itself a cocktail,

one part lime cordial to two parts self-doubt (or lemonade)

and sits and watches, not expecting

Anything At All

Probably isn’t even watching, too busy juggling or singing,

But whose fault might that be…

And is it a fault, or a design?

Something that was built with purpose and certainty,

Like a bridge, or a rocketbike.

Reversibility is a secondary trait.

 

One thing, and another, and another.

My iPod can destroy them all,

So I’ll stop worrying so much.

English Class

2 Sep

Here is everything I achieved in English yesterday.

Note; The first is a found poem, I just wrote down interesting things people said and they started to look poemish.

Demons

Cool kids love washers, yo

Click me.

Hard Soft Acid Base Theory

20 Jun

Hypothetically held in your hot little hand
Is an acid or base you don’t quite understand.
To work out its properties quick as you please,
Close your eyes, hold your breath, and give it a squeeze.

It’s small like a marble and hard like a stone?
Its qualities suddenly make themselves known!
Its electron affinity is high as the sky
So it’s not as affected by charges nearby.

But what if it’s squishy like squashed up banana?
Its electrons are welcome to wander out farther.
A low oxidation, can be pulled out of shape,
These will suggest a soft acid or base.

So next time your looking for strong interactions,
Remember the fundamentals of attraction.
Like Pearson proposed, as a rough rule of thumb;
Hard to hard, soft to soft, and your work is done.

Chelate Effect

19 Jun

The chelate effect is dependent on size,
And clever young chemists, this will not surprise;
A five-membered ring is indeed the most stable,
More so if delocalisation enables
The flow of electrons through double bonds,
For resonance strengthens benzene hexagons.

But make that ring smaller, and lo and behold!
Ring strain will encourage the thing to unfold.
The more rings that bind to a metal cation,
The stronger the bonds the complex must rely on!
So, multiple five membered rings are the best
For a happy and stable metal complex.

A Running Commentary

7 Feb

Greetings Blogglings, and welcome to February.

I’ve decided to just write an extended kind of experimental twitter post style post-modern poem. Enjoy.

There is a kids’ show on TV.
High School Musical ad causes internal bleeding.

The twins fight for nerd-love.
Grandmother hovers over cloth blueprints.

A balloon of blue sits next to me.
It is ignoring my attempts to befriend it.

Taylor Swift.
You make me want to step on kittens.

Theodore sleeps on the floor.
He is a noble creature. A sphinx.

I stare longingly at the bookcase.
Mine shall arrive soon. I won’t set fire to it.

Yesterday, I sliced my hands open.
On a guitar. By accident.

The sky is grey. My heart is greyer.
Elephants are the greyest of all.

I’m going to read a New Scientist.