Poetry from a Dublin Scientist

Month: April, 2013

Haikus 30/04/13

By a local shop
A gang of teenagers stand
To frighten comers

Long stretch in the day
The sun shines into evening
Summer has arrived

I see the sun set
Behind me as I walk home
Why do I work late?

Limericks 30/04/13

When spending some time at the dump
I saw something that made me quick-jump
A rat I did see
Running past me
Dragging a roasted beef rump

My thought on the best life tip
Is “Drink not by the gulp but the sip”
You’ll save yourself trouble
That can come by the double
If you imbibe more than a nip

Under the blazing sun
We all thought it’d be fun
To take off our clothes
So everything shows
And have us a bit of a run


Don’t shoot

Don’t shoot the messenger
For they only bring the message
Not the hurt, the issue, the demand
Only the vehicle, the vessel
Nothing more
Not even worth your bullet
Or the time to pull a trigger
Don’t shoot the messenger
For it won’t make you feel better
As the message will remain
Your shot not matteing to it
The immortality of bad news

The Ladies Man

I love the girls as well you know
But sometimes places where I’d go
I find myself just outclassed
By he who’s skills are far more vast
They fawn each and every time he smiled
His giggles drive the women wild
He’s cute and packed with charm galore
What’s more the punk is only four
He cannot grasp his immense power
The affection that the women shower
In ten years time he’ll kill for this
But now he knows not what he’ll miss
To have this much lady attention
Would be a joy beyond my mention
Oh to be that young again
And understand the ladies gain
Then in hope maybe I can
Be like this ladie’s man

Haikus 26/04/13

Red light is flashing
The power cell is running out
Typing quickly now

A new lady friend
Arranged to meet tomorrow
This has potential

The sun is shining
But the wind is very cold
Winter is not gone

Mini Me

Someday I would like to see

Me have my own mini me

A son, or daughter I don’t mind

To them I would be far too kind

For I would spoil the little tot

With sweets and toys and whatnot

The passivate the little tike

Each year he’ll get a brand-new bike

I’d like to think I’d treat him right

I’d read them stories every night

Help with lessons, give advice

Make such they treat all others nice

A proper dad I’d know I’d be

To my very own mini me

Better Safe Than Sorry

To avoid a nasty chafe
It is better to be safe
And be careful where you lie
Or with whom you can’t deny

To avoid a stint in jail
You’d do better without fail!
To forego liquor before wine
And you shall get along just fine

And though you may come off a creep
Make sure the ladies that you keep
Have all safely come of age
So you stay out of a cage

An ode to an Engineer

Deep inside the JPL
Where the great brain trust does dwell
Sit engineers bereft of fun
So look just what they’ve gone and done
With a tap of keys and then mouse click
They’ve made a rover turn a tick
Move some feet then turn round and
So leave a mark upon the sand
So now upon the face of mars
Was left the most subtle of scars
Upon the red sand and rock
Was drawn the image of a cock
Even at the millionth mile
They’ll find a way to be purile
A testament that even here
You’ll find a laughing engineer

The Showering Soprano

I am a showering soprano
Each morn as I stand in the shower
I screech as I sing
Almost anything
At the highest possible power

Sometimes it’s opera
Sometimes it’s jazz
Or rap without the razamatazz
Classics or modern or so much more
Are butchered like they have never before

See, when I’m in the shower
By magic methinks
I cannot realise how much my voice stinks
About how badly my voice sounds
My tragic delusion knows no bounds

If I’m out and about
And I caterwaul
Do a kindness to me and a service to all
Tell me I have a voice that turns milk sour
And I don’t sound a bit like I do in the shower

The Devil’s in the Details

The Devil lies not in the grand things
In the stars or the march of oceans
Nor the Vast eons of time
But rather, in the little things
In the smallest of the small
So small they are beyond the sight of most
Beyond the care of all
This is where the mischief is done
Where doubt can be spread
Speaking from the shadows
Whispering from the crevices
Undermining all that has been done
The devil is in the details
And sometimes you never see him at all