Short Rubik Poems

Two layers in hand,
Misplaced colors offer no plan,
No exit, imagine!...

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It would be called Rubik sphere
Many would easily solve I am clear
I would still pen poem like this one
And get N/A for a bad job done...

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top layer centers
then the corners top and sides
second layer next

align side centers
and turn the cube upside down
bottom layer up

top centers again
then do top and side corners
and side centers last

stan sand...

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Gods Rubik cube, twisted and turned
All combinations tried and failed
The wrong jigsaw piece that fits in no gap
The red number on a roulette wheel of black
The joke no one gets in embarrassed silence
The fly in the ointment,
The pea in your beans
Inside myself i don't talk but i scream
The words that change what we know
The clown of reality
The king of no land, the god with no soul
The man who is destined to turn into sand.
With all of you we walk hand in hand....

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If the Rubik’s cube were round as a ball 
It surely would not have six sides, at all, 
And would be worthless for little more 
Than rolling upon a smooth varnished floor. 
One could not twist the sides or see 
Neat rows of color in squares of three 
Much less give exercise to flexing wrist 
I think you are probably getting the gist. 
If Rubik really wanted to prove his legit 
He should’ve made a puzzle ball of it. 

 
Written December 31, 2020 
For Rubik’s Cube Contest...

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RUBIK    CUBISTS    AND    OTHER    MANIACS



Those cube zombies wreck my head.
Damn that Hungarian genius
And his puzzle so ingenious;
I can never  get  a single side all red.


And the sudoka zealots  so persist:
They  try   45  then change to seven -
If it  succeeds:  they’re  in heaven. 
Their numbers form some magic list.


I see them on the train, and snort:
How can they become so  engrossed?
As if it mattered in the world the most.
. . . . To my crossword  I  resort....

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