Limericks a la Math

Here are some limericks I've collected from students over the years as part of an assignment that forces them out of their comfortable "mathematical" zone. Many claim they don't know how to rhyme or be witty, but they often surprise themselves when you give them no other option. See if you can see a thematic tone developing.






There once was a logarithmic function
Who crossed another at some junction
But they ne’er introduced
So we now must deduce
That they both are filled with compunction.--Korpi

There was a Precalculus student
Who knew how to study, but wouldn’t
So by logs he got burned
And a lesson he learned:
“To study for tests is quite prudent.”--Korpi

Math is a subject I really don’t get.
When I don’t understand, I throw a big fit.
Logs are a real bore.
Everyone hates them, hard core.
Never will my light bulb upstairs be lit.

Everyday in Precalculus class.
The problems make me collapse
My mind always fries
And then comes the time
That I wish I had a hall pass.

Math is definitely not fun
It makes me cry, scream, and run
It doesn’t make sense
It makes me feel dense
To escape it, I’d become a nun

There once was a guy named Ben
He understood log base 10
Then Korpi gave “e”
And, Oh, gaaw-lee
Now Ben shouts out words that offend.

There once was an algebra teacher
Who taught math like a great Baptist preacher
He thought functions were life
And it freaked out his wife
And his graphs were his best looking feature.

Precalculus is a pain in my rear
Logarithms and exponents I fear.
I’d rather go home and sleep
Than look at my test scores and weep.
I wish the end of this year were here.

I know of a teacher of math
Who nary had taken a bath
He took pleasure from pain
We took tests in vain
And few were the friends that he hath.

Math is subject I don’t understand
Everything about it is just so bland
Logarithms are dumb
I’d rather chew gum
But I do what my parents command.

Three plus one equals four
Please just let me walk out the door\
My brain is hurting
I’m sick of girls flirting
I just want to give to the poor.

There once was a student named Nate
Failing Precal was his fate.
His stupidity was his demise
His thoughts never wise
So he ended up selling fish bait.

There once was a math book
To school I would never took
From it I could not learn
So unto it I set burn
Oh, yes, its pages did cook.

As a student of the precalculus way
I am forced to study each day
Equations and graphs
Which poses such a task
Often making me feel like running away