My English...

I enjoy seeing my wife and son giglish,
every time I get carried away with my English.

Hearing sniggers since my kindergarten,
has made my tender soul harden;
Now, I say what I feel,
and enjoy seeing others squeal.

I can still hear my teachers laughter,
from an early event in my life's chapter; 
'What is your father?', had asked my teacher,
'My father is a man.', had come my proud answer.

In the fourth tender year of my life,
her laughter started nibbling me alive.
I asked my mother if my father was not a man,
but that discussion didn't go so well.

One evening, a pretty waitress asked,
'How do want your steak? Medium?';
'Large please.', I said in tedium.
I felt guilty to foster,
her uncontrollable fits of laughter.

I have experienced my wife's fury,
on my attempts to buy us some inflammable drapery;
My claims that Venus and Mars are inhabitable,
doesn't seem to make by knowledge credible;
I have since, shied away from prefixing 'in',
lest it adds to my list of linguistic sins.

'Goodness, you have a gift!',
Complimented a guest, on my artistic drift;
'I've made it myself, it's not a gift.'
My response, I learnt later, 
was what fomented our social rift.

English, they say, is forgiving,
unfortunately, in my case, 
it has been a harbinger of misgivings.

Poetry in Physics

Save me, Newton,

for your third law,

in all its simplicity,

leads to unfathomable complexity!

If a force has,

an equal and opposing pair;

should they not,

annihilate each other?

But the world keeps moving,

raising doubts on your provings.

The  teachers get furious,

when they no longer find,

my questions hilarious.

They insist you are right,

in your insightful might;

And with them its suicidal to fight.

Maybe one day, I'll comprehend,

but till then, please understand;

If I don't consider you,

my best friend!