Stormed In

Pit, pat, whoosh
A tingle on the tip
On the tip of my nose
A signal transmitted
To the one who knows
A sign, if anything,
It’s time to go home

Pit, pat, whoosh
And a tick tock tick;
Joined in harmony
For an experimental collaboration
For an hour or three
Drumming away
Keeping time with me

Pit, pat, whoosh
And an electronic beep!
Keep indoors they say,
As much as you can keep
Now on your telly, or old fashioned cathode-ray:
There’s a storm out and about
And it’s here to stay

Pit, pat, whoosh
And the rustling in the fridge
Make sure you got supplies!
Ice creams are for winters,
Ice creams don’t lie!
But don’t get carried away,
Get work done before the power dies

Pit, pat, whoosh
This is getting a bit repetitive,
A bit scary and boring
The rain just hasn’t stopped!
It’s been pouring and pouring,
The background while I sleep
It’s an indoor morning, and not one for exploring

Pit, pat, whoosh
Bleep bleep bloop!
Cancellations and censored swears,
Barred indoors there’s boredom and panic
Of which I’m quite aware
Looking out the window
With a sigh, a frown and a stare

Pit, pat, whoosh
More like a single long droning sound
And the whirring of cogs,
For I’ve found work to do
Indoor days needn’t be logs
The sound’s quite relaxing honestly
And there are books and books to hog

 

We genuinely do have storms, and their main risks are becoming annoying, and freezing. I have had to cancel stuff indeed, I suppose WordPress must be my sole support for the weekend. And computer science. Lots of readings. It’s surprisingly really, because I’m convinced computer scientists don’t know how to read anymore. My class and I are living breathing proof.

Have a safe weekend!

Just Don’t Make Me Take The Gloves Off

It’s a fine and sunny morning
As you peer outside your window
Just a scraper of a white blanket
Possibly here from a day ago

The clouds are smiling
And the sheer blank white outside is inviting
And as you dream of the summery days ahead
You hear your phone crying

As you walk across to class
It’s as soft a walk as can be
And then you hear the rumbling and howling
And check your phone; it’s minus eighteen degrees

How can it be
That when you really want to get there
On time the wind seems keen on making sure you
End up on the other side of campus?

And how could it seem
So perfectly calm in the morning
When Environment Canada has issued
A week’s worth of warnings?

I think there’s snow inside my hat
And snow in my eyes
And snow in my ear
And in a little bit of a ice

And no, don’t you dare,
Don’t you even try
To cancel classes today
Would make you a very un-Canadian guy.

Have you ever wanted
To go parasailing?
To find out what it really meant
To float like a butterfly?

Because the wind speed today is 50 kph
And the speed limit is 45
Can someone call the damn cops
To ticket this Zephyr guy?

Till today I’d always thought
I’d see the Clippers in the NBA,
But I’ve seen this Albertan roll in
From the Wild West today.

And as I stand and write this,
We’re fifteen centimetres under the snow
And if you prefer imperial units
Today you and I might agree on how low this’ll go (-40!)

And RIP all those with evening classes,
And the off campus dwellers too
Give the wind a fight;
And my frozen fingers
Are my new excuse not to write.

This used to be a staircase. I’m not that creative, it really was one.