‘Hello class, I’m Riemann Sphere
I feel so floored to see you here.'
'Now sit tight data and digits,
I’ll subtract numbers who fidget.'
‘I really hope you stay today
and marvel at my spectacle.'
'Please avoid shuffling away,
Your thoughts may be un-integral’
‘Never equate beliefs with facts,
please promise me and sign your pacts.'
‘Sayings are never set in stone.'
'Clyde Divide, turn off your smartphone!’
‘Please quit thrusting Chord Vector-mort,
or I’ll divide your fun free time.’
Hey, you cut my winning game short!
I almost snapped the chord this time!
‘Urgh, since Clyde carries us away
I’ll deviate to phones, whoo hoo.’
‘My flip-phones died in just 3 days,
while yours live 3 long years boo hoo’.
‘Now let’s finish our great lecture
Hey, halt hectoring Ty, Hector!’
For Hector carried mean whispers,
to wild Boxy’s wily whiskers.
This pair always risk double dares.
Their dares drive them to naughty stairs.
‘Class, all but maths is subjective,
though valid, never objective’.
‘I love how maths is binary,
other subjects seem too blurry'.
'Their theories have lots of blots'.
'Stop daydreaming Boxy plot!'
Hey leave me in Diagon Alley!
There, tally charts never trick me!
Rieman rolled his eyes at her larks,
‘you must plot more charts Box!’, he barks.
‘Though scriptures preach they’re always right,
they cannot serve hipsters, wizards,
or misfits fighting for their rights'.
'Maths wins, through blisters and blizzards!'.
‘Looks of Maths books could be improved
but their sums all stay the same’.
Whoo, I sliced Chord Vectormort Dude!
’Exit that door Clyde, no more games!’
‘Sorry for thrusting y’all that curveball.'
'Now it’s clear 3 plus 1 as 4.’
‘We don’t need to argue or bawl,
we should take sums as truths, not lore. ’
‘Well done to those writing neat notes,
those non-anomalies I dote.’
‘Ty Tangent, I love your workings!
‘Other symbols, please stop shirking!’
HA, TY KISSING RIE’S CURVE AGAIN!!!
buzzed obtuse denominators.
They can’t refrain from causing pain,
to Ty, the smart numerator.
‘A World where all is mutating,
and nothing stays in fine straight lines,
can sometimes feel a bit grating'.
'At least maths cuts clean as white wine.’
‘I love how maths never alters.
I can take them without falters.'
'Free of stomach flutters and frets,
Maths will help us to win all bets.’
Riemann’s speech ends in a full round,
the set’s babbles trespass their bounds.
Rie’s phrases cleanly erases,
as signs jumped to their next phases.
That's fantastic dear Rithu. I never new Maths could be so rhyming untill I read this. Very well framed .ReplyDelete