Friday, April 1, 2011

Inspired by the Great Pencil Massacre

 Inspired by the past few days of sharpening pencils for Assessment Day (I sharpened a grand total of 3,680!), the poet in me felt the need to compose a few soothing limericks:

There once a girl named Stephanie
Who had pencils ‘far as she could see.
Though she coughed from the lead
She kept plunging ahead,
Stephanie and her sharpeners three.

Poor Stephanie had pencils galore,
And boxes piled up with e’en more!
She sharpened each one
Till the whole pile was done,
Then, exhausted, collapsed to the floor!

Three sharpeners sat on a desk
Each acting quite statuesque
When the pencils in their stead
Started shedding their lead
And turned the act into burlesque

A grad student working at LU
Had numerous odd jobs to do.
Her bulging resume
Had a great deal to say
When at last she bid them adieu!

Thousands of pencils sat waiting
While the sharpeners kept on grating
Said a pencil to his friend,
“Dear, this is the end,
For I fear that my size is abating.”

One day I had pencils to grind
Till the noise put me out of my mind.
The whole office cheered
As the last pencil was sheared,
But cried when Dr. Letting resigned.

There once was a girl in IE
Who went on a sharpening spree.
Poisoned by the lead,
She went nuts in her head,
And was quarantined by CDC

A proud student of academ-ese
Found her brain beginning to freeze.
Though she loved her subject,
She began to suspect,
She was killing herself by degrees.

No comments:

"Passage—immediate passage! the blood burns in my veins! Away, O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!
Cut the hawsers—haul out—shake out every sail!
Have we not stood here like trees in the ground long enough?
Have we not grovell’d here long enough, eating and drinking like mere brutes?
Have we not darken’d and dazed ourselves with books long enough?

Sail forth! steer for the deep waters only!
Reckless, O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me;
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go, And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all.

O my brave soul!
O farther, farther sail!
O daring joy, but safe! Are they not all the seas of God?
O farther, farther, farther sail!"

~Walt Whitman, "Passage to India"