I have always been making art from an early age but for nearly forty years did computer programming to earn a living. I bought a house and put my wife and three children through college. Now that diversion is over so I can finally paint full time.
quote by Mike Thompson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Live life to the fullest
Remember when you were little?
It seems so long ago.
There were a lot of big changes it seemed.
Like your first christmas, first birthday, first everything.
Then you learned to walk and talk
And finally went to school for the first time.
It seemed to take forever just to turn 13,
To finally become a teenager.
Just a few short years later,
Guess what, you turn 16.
Now you have more freedom,
and a brand new car.
A couple of years later,
You graduate high school and turn 18.
Finally it is time to say your goodbyes.
To leave your parents house and go to college.
Now you have graduated college,
And have a full time job.
Maybe you have even started a family.
So where did all those years go?
Just live your life and try not to grow up too fast.
poem by Dawn Wheeler
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We have come through a strange cycle in programming, starting with the creation of programming itself as a human activity. Executives with the tiniest smattering of knowledge assume that anyone can write a program, and only now are programmers beginning to win their battle for recognition as true professionals. Not just anyone, with any background, or any training, can do a fine job of programming. Programmers know this, but then why is it that they think that anyone picked off the street can do documentation? One has only to spend an hour looking at papers written by graduate students to realize the extent to which the ability to communicate is not universally held. And so, when we speak about computer program documentation, we are not speaking about the psychology of computer programming at all - except insofar as programmers have the illusion that anyone can do a good job of documentation, provided he is not smart enough to be a programmer.
Gerald Weinberg in The Psychology of Computer Programming
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Told
For forty four years now
Each morning I woke up
I go straight to prepare
A cup of coffee for my wife
It's a ritual that I do
For forty four years
Not that she asks for it
But it's what I love to do
Love is what commands me
To lit a kettle to boil a water
For she likes it when its so hot
A coffee she drinks quite early
Suddenly, now that it's our anniversary
I do the thing I 've been doing ever since
We got married for forty four years back
Yet for the first time I am told just so today
That the coffee I served her now tasted bad
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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A Rent Free Home To Live In
once you were offered
a rent free home to live in
for you and your family
a full time job
for both your wife
and yourself
a much higher salary
than you were making
a salary for your wife
house was warm freshly painted
beautify prepared for your family
not taken was this opportunity
a school was next street behind
but a short walk for your children
your salary was fully guaranteed
house waited empty a full year for thee
opportunity open dawn bright for thee
salary guaranteed in perpetuity for thee
you chose instead nuts and bolts living
you choose instead continued paying renting
time passes now your bills I am not paying
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Golden Years
he finally reached his golden years
wanted to leave his family,
thoughts and love to share.
so he sat with pen in hand
wrote about his lifes plan.
it started off with just his dream
never expecting the unforseen.
as his plans began to unwind
he found himself lost in time.
he joined the army at an early age
this was to become the setting stage
he survived the street gangs and a war
and never talking about what he saw.
he managed retail businesses all his life
met the woman who would become his wife.
he had always loved children
so he thought it was time
his wife agreed and it turned out fine.
a beautiful little girl came into their life
and everything seemed twice as nice.
now he had two women who captured his heart
and knew right then, that this was the start.
the start to his golden years
with his wife he could share.
all the dreams that were meant to be
was now becoming a reality.
but the years was going by fast
he knew his dreams would not last.
now with this thought in mind
he decided it was time
to put his life in perspective
for the golden years to become effective.
so he changed his train of thoughts
a late retirement he would abort.
he retired before his time
so he could enjoy life the way
that it was meant to be
living happy and carefree.
now that he finished writing
down his thoughts and plans
he let them know
'YOUR PERCEPTION BECOMES YOUR REALITY'
and this is what mine was to me.
the golden years are now mine
and i'm lost in its time.
poem by Louis Rams
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I decry the current tendency to seek patents on algorithms. There are better ways to earn a living than to prevent other people from making use of one's contributions to computer science.
quote by Donald Knuth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kiwi Dave
For forty five years I've been working and I'm just an unfettered slave
And I have gray hairs to show for it I am quoting Kiwi Dave
Five years to go to retirement I was sixty last birthday
And ever since I've started working it's been uphill all the way.
My ex wife said that I was a drinker that I was too fond of the booze
That was her excuse for leaving she said I was born to lose
But I take it in moderation after work three or four beers
And I've been a slave for her and for my children for close to if not twenty years.
Fifteen years ago she left me and she went to live with younger bloke
She got more than half my assets for years to her haven't spoke
She turned my son and daughter against me and my six grandchildren I don't see
And I will spend my usual Christmas on my own watching T.V.
Kiwi Dave is a good person though just a little soured by life
And things for him would have been better had he had a faithful wife
'A woman she can make or break you' with that who could disagree
Dave could see the truth in those words for who would know better than he? .
For forty five years he's been working the hard worker Kiwi
Dave
And for his ex wife and his children for years he has been a slave
He looks older far than sixty the hard life has made him gray
Five more years left till retirement it's been uphill all the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Upon Learning The Death Of A Dedicated Algebra Teacher
the obituary reads that mr. cruz
my algebra teacher in college
died the other day
i am saddened
and my mind travels back
in time when he taught
us how to find the x's
in relation to the given y's
that a value assigned to
some givens can lead me
to find an unknown
with the simple way
of finding the right
connection
it is all in the mind
and soon you will find
the solution
to a given problem
he once lectured it
bedridden for years
he always lived a very
simple life
(poverty
the poor professor
thriving on a meager
income from the
university supporting
his children to earn
a college degree)
and now that he died
my classmate who
becomes a practitioner
of medicine and earning
her big bucks for her
living says
'i have pity for him'
she is correct,
but from far
i am saying too my prayers
for him
that his soul may rest in peace
as he was restless
once with the odd numbers
mostly they are not even.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Meaning Of Life Is Unique To Us All
When I was five I wanted to be ten,
How I longed to be a young man,
My mind would wander every now and then,
I wanted to be in the grown ups clan.
When I reached ten I thought of being twenty,
By then I'd be driving my car,
Time for the future, well I still had plenty,
Getting older was a distance too far.
Now I've hit twenty I've nothing to fear,
Time goes past so very slow,
I'm still a young man so I've nothing to fear
I've still got a long time to go.
Thirty years old and it's still not too bad,
I've a wife and children I love,
My health is good I love being a Dad,
My life is a gift from above,
The big four zero has finally come,
I now watch, as my parents grow frail,
The thought of that is making me feel numb,
To prevent it should be our holy grail.
I'm now in my fifties my children have flown,
This life can be really quite strange,
Back when I was five I wish I had known,
Growing older you cannot exchange.
Be careful what you wish for it may come true,
Take your time for life is too short,
Enjoy every minute, age you cannot subdue,
When young the facts you distort.
I'm now in my eighties how I wish I were five,
My time here has just flown by,
All those I loved would still be alive,
Now their memories still make me cry.
The moral is don't wish your life away,
Treat each living second as your last,
Enjoy your years every glorious day,
For in the blink of an eye it has passed.
Scientists spend billions asking why we exist,
Look outside, what you see will enthrall,
It is solely for living is the point they've all missed,
‘‘ The Meaning Of Life Is Unique To Us All ‘'
So Much Trouble
My baby left me, my mule got lame,
Lost all my money in a poker game.
Wind storm came one summers day,
Carried the house and lift it away.
Having so much trouble
Having so much trouble.
Im having so much trouble.
Its finally driving me insane.
Carry me to jail my pyjamas on,
I even hate that I was born.
Let me out of jail, come through town.
Couldnt find my wife, she had put me down.
Having so much trouble,
Having so much trouble.
Im having so much trouble:
Its finally driving me insane.
I pawned my watch and I pawned my chain,
I would have pawned myself but I was ashamed.
Got me a job on the city pay
Early one morning layed me off that day.
Im having so much trouble,
Im having so much trouble,
Im having so much trouble,
Bought to drive me insane.
Im having so much trouble:
Its finally driving me insane.
Trouble!
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teachers Challenge
It's time for the public to open up their eyes
Without the teachers how will our kids survive
What will happen to our children if they
don't have an education
They are the foundation of this great nation.
The teachers all had a dream and a goal
To teach the public young and old.
They had learned early in college
That they must gain daily knowledge.
Every day they challenge their minds
With new knowledge that they find
It does not matter what the topic may be
It all goes down into history.
They work hard at what they do
Teaching our kids and their kids too.
Teaching is not an easy task
not all kids learn that fast.
Then there are those with special needs
With which the teachers plant their seeds.
They are given a lot more patience
And a lot more care, so with them
The teachers do share.
Now is the time that money should be given
So that they can earn a decent living.
poem by Louis Rams
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Football His Diversion
He is not getting on with his unhappy wife
His Football Club his diversion from his problems in life
He looks forward to the weekend through each working day
To cheer on his team such is life some do say.
He and his wife seem to have little in common at all
She does not have any interest in football
And their nineteen year old daughter is living elsewhere
Experiencing life in the big World out there.
With his mates in the pub football stories they share
A diversion for them from their every care
Than football no greater passion in their lives they can name
To them it is more far more than a game.
It would seem love in their marriage it is of the past
But then few things in life ever do seem to last
On saturday he barracks for his team whilst she
Is with her friend in the cafe enjoying afternoon tea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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a Birthday
It’s full moon tonight
and yellow like Citrine
some golden rays
decent down to me
and it’s forty-five years
since my full moon first broke
in the dark onyx night.
The morning sun is ruby red
till it turns shining diamond bright
in a sapphire blue sky
and too intense to look at
and it’s forty-five years
since the first time
that I saw light.
The years flash past
and in this summer of my life
I wish that perennial
could my summer be,
but autumn has already
laid its hands on me
and there are grey specs in my hair.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The heart and soul of network programming is series programming, the weekly repetition of characters you like having in your house.
Treat Each Living Second As Your Last
When I was five how I wanted to be ten,
I just longed to be a young man,
My mind would wander now and then,
I wanted to be in the grown ups clan.
When I reached ten I thought of being twenty,
By then I'd be driving my car,
Time for the future, well I still had plenty,
Getting older was a distance to far.
Now I've hit twenty I've nothing to fear,
Time fades past me so slow,
I'm still a young man so I've nothing to fear
I've still got a long time to go.
Thirty years old and it's still not too bad,
I've a wife and children I love,
My health is good I love being a dad,
My life is truly a gift from above,
The big four zero has finally come,
I now watch, as my parents grow old,
The thought of that is making me feel numb,
As I know it cannot be controlled.
I'm now in my fifties my children have flown,
This life can be really strange,
Back when I was five I wish I had known,
Growing older you cannot exchange.
Be careful what you wish for it may come true,
Cherish life for it's far too short,
Enjoy what you have age you cannot subdue,
When you're young these facts you distort.
I'm now eighty years old how I wish I were five,
Hindsight's such a wonderful thing,
All those I loved dearly would still be alive,
I'd be thinking of what the future might bring.
You must live for today forget tomorrow,
Just be thankful for being alive,
Though there will be joy as well as sorrow,
It's how we cope that makes us all thrive.
Life is precious don't ever wish it away,
When it's gone it becomes part of the past,
Enjoy your years every wondrous day,
‘' Treat Each living Second As Your Last ‘'
My Fore-Elders
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Or when a few-year'd mother dead
Has left her children growing on, ---
When men have left their children staid,
And they again have boy and maid, ---
O, can they know, as years may roll,
Their children's children, soul by soul?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
My elders' elders, man and wife,
Were borne full early to the tomb,
With children still in childhood life
To play with butterfly or bloom.
And did they see the seasons mould
Their faces on, from young to old,
As years might bring them, turn by turn,
A time to laugh or time to mourn?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
How fain I now would walk the floor
Within their mossy porch's bow,
Or linger by their church's door,
Or road that bore them to and fro,
Or nook where once they build their mow,
Or gateway open to their plough
(Though now indeed no gate is swung
That their live hands had ever hung ), ---
If I could know that they would see
Their child's late child, and know of me.
poem by William Barnes
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Christmas Is Here
Christmas is here
Snowflakes filling the air
People rushing past every display
No time for napping
Theres buying and then wrapping
The gifts to be given away
Sparkling lights
All the dazzling sights
Christmas trees loaded with joy
Hearts full of giving
Children are living
For what could be their favorite toy
Christmas is here
Christmas is here
Its a wonderful time of the year
Christmas is here
Christmas is here
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful time of the year
Families together
No matter the weather
Feasting and fun is the goal
Grandma is making
Sugar cookies are baking
To warm up the body and soul
Full decoration
In anticipation of times
Marked with laughter and cheer
And day long awaited
And much celebrated
Christmas is finally here
Christmas is here
Its a wonderful time of the year
Christmas is here
Christmas is here
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful time of the year
A festive occasion
A welcome invasion
Of carolers filling the air
Song of rejoicing
And everyone voicing
A story of hope we all share
Christmas is here
Christmas is here
Its wonderful time of the year
Christmas is here
Christmas is here
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful time of the year
Christmas is here
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful time of the year
Christmas is finally here
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have a working spouse, because you won't earn a living from writing - not at first, if ever. My wife worked for years to support us.
quote by Piers Anthony
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem for Molly's Fortieth Birthday
'Why do you
have stripes
in your forehead,
Mama?
Are you
old?'
Not old.
But not so
young
that I cannot
see
the world contracting
upon itself
& the circle
closing
at the end.
As the furrows
in my brow
deepen,
I can see
myself
sinking back
into that childhood
street
I walked along
with my grandfather,
thinking he was old
at sixty-three
since I was four,
as you are four
to my forty.
Forty years
to take
the road out . . .
Will another forty
take me
back?
Back to the street
I grew up on,
back to
my mother's breast.
back to the second
world war
of a second
child,
back
to the cradle
endlessly
rocking?
I am young
as you are
Molly-
yet with stripes
in my brow;
I earn my youth
as you must earn
your age.
These stripes
are decorations
for my valor-
forty years
of marching
to a war
I could not declare,
nor locate,
yet have somehow
won.
Now,
I begin
to unwin,
unravelling
the sleeves
of care
that have
stitched up
this brow,
unravelling
the threads
that have kept
me scared,
as I pranced
over the world,
seemingly fearless,
working
without a net,
knowing
if I fell
it would
only be
into that same
childhood street,
where I dreaded
to tread
on the lines-
not knowing
the lines
would someday
tread
on me.
Molly,
when you are forty,
read this poem
& tell me:
have we won
or lost
the war?
poem by Erica Jong
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A Lady
I am living in somebody's house,
I am living with somebody's wife,
Through the deep i look and pray;
Like the guilty and the guiltiness upon Egypt's land.
I am living in somebody's house,
I am living with somebody's wife,
Through the dark i do pray;
Like the blind old man with his stick.
This tale is old,
This only star is lonely,
But the summer is green;
So let my memory still be thy pride and,
Let the river nobly foams and flows;
Like the white winter.
To nature and to me so dear,
Of my name in a story like this;
Like the wolf on the fold.
Those days are gne but, beauty still lies here;
Of all the pleasant places of festivity like,
a river ebbing very slow from the red gash;
I am living with somebody's wife.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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