Jarrod Wakefield

Rookie (1996 / Auckland)

The Cube And I - Poem by Jarrod Wakefield

Last week I bought home a rubiks cube
To test my skill against its might
Well I said this silly toy
This plastic puzzle kids enjoy
Ill solve this night!

The night fled by the dawn arrived
The cube unsolved in disarray
Against each turn and twist
Gave me an aching wrist
As I worked through the day

At last I lined up one side orange
At first this seemed a great success
But it bought me little cheer
But the other five remained I fear
A multicolored mess

Two days flew past then three and four
My work neglected went undone
Though green lined up columns true
How come red was mixed in with the blue?
Does rubik call this fun?

A thousand times I turned the cube
My fingers gripped around its parts
Until the truth at last set in
I didn’t lack the will to win
I simply lacked the smarts

No more I said to rubiks cube
Shall you enslave me in your power?
Thus liberated from its hold
Gave it to a eight year old
Who solved it in a hour

Comments about The Cube And I by Jarrod Wakefield

  • (2/10/2012 11:10:00 PM)

    This is a very poor version of a poem I came across about 15 years ago, supposedly by R.J. Wakefield has botched up the meter and sometimes the grammar. I see Geoff Russell saw it in Mad Magazine 1989...will try to track down the real author! Here is the version I have:


    Last week I brought home Rubik's Cube
    To test my skill against its might.
    Behold I said, this silly toy-
    This plastic puzzle kids enjoy-
    I'll solve it in a night!

    The night fled by, the dawn arrived;
    The cube unsolved, in disarray,
    Rebuffed each hopeless turn and twist-
    Brought aching to my hand and wrist,
    As I worked through the day.

    At last one side I lined up orange;
    This seemed at first a great success.
    But lo! it brought me little cheer.
    The other five remained, I fear,
    A multicolored mess.

    Two days flew past, then three and four;
    My work neglected, went undone.
    Though greens lined up in columns true,
    How come the red was mixed with blue?
    Does Rubik call this fun?

    A thousand times the cube I turned;
    My fingers gripped around its parts,
    Until at last the truth set in:
    I didn't lack the will to win;
    I simply lacked the smarts.

    No more, I said to Rubik's Cube,
    Shall you enslave me in your power.
    Thus liberated from its hold,
    I gave it to an eight-year-old,
    Who solved it in an hour!
    (Report) Reply

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  • (11/30/2009 4:52:00 PM)

    I'll say, Jarrod! You've been so good at writing this poem that you've even managed to publish it in 'Mad magazine' in 1989, before you were born!

    Should I feel impressed, or are you going to introduce a rectification on who's reeally the author?

    Sorry, kid.
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/23/2009 7:24:00 PM)

    I was sitting here typing up your poem to put in the yearbook, and I was taken aback by just how good it was. Because I don't know you very well, I was a little sceptical, so I google searched a few lines to make sure you hadn't copied it. (Basically, i didn't want to look the fool for putting copied stuff in the yearbook!)
    But, what I found was this, and I'm so impressed. It's all obviously yours, and it's all really good.
    You're talented, Jarrod.
    Don't stop!

    Chia Mhawish
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/4/2009 11:22:00 PM)

    Ouch. It's incredible how such a simple idea can become so complex as to reduce us to the intellectual equivalent of a dishcloth. Especially when given the circumstance of your last two lines. I feel your pain. lol This was a very entertaining post. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 4, 2009

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