Poem Jokes / Recent Jokes

This poem was written by Jon Saxton (an author of math textbooks).
((12 + 144 + 20 + (3 * 4^(1/2))) / 7) + (5 * 11) = 9^2 + 0
Or for those who have trouble with the poem:
A Dozen, a Gross and a Score,
plus three times the square root of four,
divided by seven,
plus five times eleven,
equals nine squared and not a bit more.
'Tis a favorite project of mine
A new value of pi to assign.
I would fix it at 3
For it's simpler, you see,
Than 3 point 1 4 1 5 9.
("The Lure of the Limerick" by W.S. Baring-Gould, p.5. Attributed to Harvey L. Carter).
If inside a circle a line
Hits the center and goes spine to spine
And the line's length is "d"
the circumference will be
d times 3.14159
If (1+x) (real close to 1)
Is raised to the power of 1
Over x, you will find
Here's the value defined:
2.718281...
Here's a limerick - looks better on paper.
/3
/
| 2 3 x 3.14 3_
| more...

This poem was written by Jon Saxton (an author of math textbooks).
((12 + 144 + 20 + (3 * 4^(1/2))) / 7) + (5 * 11) = 9^2 + 0
Or for those who have trouble with the poem:
A Dozen, a Gross and a Score,
plus three times the square root of four,
divided by seven,
plus five times eleven,
equals nine squared and not a bit more.
'Tis a favorite project of mine
A new value of pi to assign.
I would fix it at 3
For it's simpler, you see,
Than 3 point 1 4 1 5 9.
("The Lure of the Limerick" by W.S. Baring-Gould, p.5. Attributed to Harvey L. Carter).
If inside a circle a line
Hits the center and goes spine to spine
And the line's length is "d"
the circumference will be
d times 3.14159
If (1+x) (real close to 1)
Is raised to the power of 1
Over x, you will find
Here's the value defined:
2.718281...
Here's a limerick - looks better on paper.
/3
/
| 2 3 x 3.14 3_
| z dz more...

I was alone and all was dark
Beneath me and above
My life was full of volts and amps
But not the spark of love

But now that your are here with me
My heart is overjoyed
You turn the square of my heart
Into a sinusoid

You load things from my memory
Onto my system's bus
My life was once assembly code
Now it's C

I love the way you solder things
My circuits you can fix
The voltage across your diode is
much more than just point six

With your amps and resistors
You have built my integrator
I cannot survive without you
You are my function generator

You have charged my life, increased my gain
And made my maths discreet
And now I'll end my poem here
Control, Alt, and Delete

There were these two guys that worked together, a black guy and a white
guy.
Every morning the black would come into work in a pissed-off mood, but the
white guy was always really happy and friendly to everyone.
Well one day the black decided to find out how the white guy managed to be
so happy day after day. He asked the white guy "Man, how do you stay so
damn happy all of the time?"
The white guy answered, "Well, every morning, I recite my wife a poem so I
can get laid before I come into work!"
The black says, "Hey, that's a pretty good idea, man! What do you say?"
The white guy replies, "Well, this morning, I wrote her this poem: 'Honey,
with your hair so blond and your eyes so blue, all I wanna do is make love
to you!'"
The black decides to try this with his wife.
The next morning, the black guy walks into work with a bloody lip, a broken
nose, and scratches all down his more...

Welcome to the LoveMaker! (v3. 1 Erosoft Industries, (c) 1993)
At the prompt, please enter your response.
I am the LOVEMAKER. A personalized, interactive poetry assistance program.
What is your name?
%JOHN
What a nice name, JOHN. You must be a man.
%YES
How nice for you. Who is your poem for, JOHN?
%SHEILA
How nice for SHEILA. She must be a woman?
%YES
SHEILA must be very special to you, JOHN. Is she?
%YES
What is the occasion, JOHN?
%VALENTINE'S DAY
SHEILA is a very lucky woman. I will need information about SHEILA
for a poem that best reflects your deep feelings for her, JOHN.
What color are her eyes?
%BLUE
Thank you, JOHN. But could you be more specific? Are they blue like
the sky after a clearing storm? Are they the icy blue of the far flung
fjords, shrouded in mist and mystery? Are they the steely blue of Walter
Gropius's later Bauhaus sketchbooks? Are they a cornflower more...

The geology poem
Ode to Olivine in Thin Section, a poem by Brenna Lorenz
In basalt a lurid green
Bespeaks the savage olivine;
Mantle's child, born of fire,
Restless in the open air,
Little beads of anger bear
The torture of desire.
Silica upon its face
It suffers, helpless, in disgrace,
Its powers of reaction bound
By solid's bond and cage,
In agony confined to rage
Unstable and unsound.
Its birefringent power plays
The sifted light to rare displays;
The haunting, primal colors tell
Of fire and fury's flag unfurled,
Flag of fluid, nether world,
Beneath the fragile shell.

The geology poem
Ode to Olivine in Thin Section, a poem by Brenna Lorenz

In basalt a lurid green
Bespeaks the savage olivine;
Mantle's child, born of fire,
Restless in the open air,
Little beads of anger bear
The torture of desire.

Silica upon its face
It suffers, helpless, in disgrace,
Its powers of reaction bound
By solid's bond and cage,
In agony confined to rage
Unstable and unsound.

Its birefringent power plays
The sifted light to rare displays;
The haunting, primal colors tell
Of fire and fury's flag unfurled,
Flag of fluid, nether world,
Beneath the fragile shell.