Scherzo
When, as a boy, I went
To study in the Muses' school,
One of them came to me, and took
Me by the hand, and all that day,
She through the work-shop led me graciously,
The mysteries of the craft to see.
She guided me
Through every part,
And showed me all
The instruments of art,
And did their uses all rehearse,
In works alike of prose and verse.
I looked, and paused awhile,
Then asked: 'O Muse, where is the file?'
'The file is out of order, friend, and we
Now do without it,' answered she.
'But, to repair it, then, have you no care?'
'We _should_, indeed, but have no time to spare.'
poem by Count Giacomo Leopardi
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Related quotes
TCP works very hard to get the data delivered in order without errors and does retransmissions and recoveries and all that kind of stuff which is exactly what you want in a file transfer because so you don't want any errors in your file.
quote by Jon Postel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Me Open Up Our Love File (I Felt Magic In The Air)
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
for only the second time together
enjoying and being lost in rainy romantic weather
you stared here and there
while walking to metro station
but i looked at you as my final destination
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
all of sudden, you pointed something
quickly, for you,
i was ready to do anything
you asked for ice-cream
there I was living up my dream
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
dear, i can remember
your beautiful face expression
indirectly you said we look good in pair
and, i felt magic in the air
yeah...i felt magic in the air
yeah, yeah...yeah
i can remember
your beautiful face expression
indirectly you said we look good in pair
and, i felt magic in the air
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
your arrival caused a great excitement
in midway of tough chemistry assignment
i couldn't help my fluttering eyes
looking at you n your glittering red band
stepping ahead if an angel on my heart's land
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
all of sudden, you pointed something
quickly, for you,
i was ready to do anything
you asked why H2SO4 and NaOH reaction were a complete miss,
for help you came as closer, we had nearly a kiss
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
dear, i can remember
your beautiful face expression
indirectly you said we look good in pair
and, i felt magic in the air
yeah...i felt magic in the air
yeah, yeah...yeah
i can remember
your beautiful face expression
indirectly you said we look good in pair
and, i felt magic in the air
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
(let me open up our love file
cherish along with me and just smile)
oh, oh.oh
yeah, yeah, oh yeah
i felt magic in the air,
magic in the air,
i felt magic in the air.
poem by Anuj Raj Singh
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School School School
Every school has a name but
school is so lame
school what can I say
school im there like every day
school is like a prison, you can nver escape
school is like having a detencion every day
school you tell us to do schoolwork and at home we have to do homework: (
school, school, school
work, work, work
study, study, study
test, test, test it all goes trough my mind
what else should i do
might the principle think; .
My school
My rules
My way or the hard way
This is what i think
Im
Victor Arambula
poem by Somebody U Will Never Know
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Post Tops Stop Spot - Anagram Verse
GLEAN from ANGEL we derive
WINGS which SWING, keep hope alive,
FORM FROM patterns living spread,
surviving though some seem as dead.
DARE READ between the lines instead
of mixing in and out - DEAL LEAD
by first impressions, TALE LATE found
containing, CHUM, so MUCH profound.
TEAM-MATE, when penning prose or VERSE
SERVE ideals high, FILE LIFE, rehearse
LIVE, - who OPTS POTS VILE underground
SPOT all TOPS POST, clocks STOP unwound.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The file is a gzipped tar file. Your browser is playing tricks with you and trying to be smart.
quote by Rasmus Lerdorf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pawn moves only one square at a time, and that straight forward, except in the act of capturing, when it takes one step diagonally to the right or left file on to the square occupied by the man taken, and continues on that file until it captures another man.
quote by Howard Staunton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Asked God
“When I Asked God for Strength
He Gave Me Difficult Situations to Face
When I Asked God for Brain & Brown
He Gave Me Puzzles in Life to Solve
When I Asked God for Happiness
He Showed Me Some Unhappy People
When I Asked God for Wealth
He Showed Me How to Work Hard
When I Asked God for Favors
He Showed Me Opportunities to Work Hard
When I Asked God for Peace
He Showed Me How to Help Others
God Gave Me Nothing I Wanted
He Gave Me Everything I Needed.”
poem by Shivani Nalkar
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God As A Super Computer
God is a super computer in which there are two folders,
Vile and humane,
.……………………. Vile ………………….
All the unfair work you do,
All the crimes you do,
All the injustice work you do,
…………………….. Humane ………………...
All the fair work you do,
All the social services you do,
All the justifiable work you do.
All the files of vile are converted to a new file called hard, sorrow and obstacles.
All the files of humane are
Converted to a new file called
Smooth, happiness and
Good living.
poem by Ram Kausik
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Freudian Snippet
as i enter
the lady
psychiatrist
propped up
behind
power desk
is scratching
secret messages
with file pen.
when i exit
my file
is still
open
poem by Doug Bentley
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Rest Awhile
Verse 1:
I got rid of my jackets and coats
I threw out all of my pants
I got sick of my stinkin' clothes
I had to get rid of them
Climb:
I'm knot yet considering replacing them
I'm only glad to be rid of them
Chorus:
Rest awhile
Rest awhile
Verse 2:
I lay out in the sun too long
And burned off all of my skin
I felt so dizzy I got into the car
And got into an accident
Climb:
Out of the burning wreckage I fell
Wanting only to lay where I fell
Chorus:
Rest awhile
Rest awhile
Rest awhile!
Verse 3:
I became friendly with Ruy Lopez
The author of works on chess
Ruy said you're incorrect
He cut me off and acted mad
Climb:
He won't even talk to me now
But I don't care 'cause I'm sick of that guy
Chorus:
And I need to rest a while
Rest a while
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Reprieve Sans regrets!
At last, the time has come to say, ' Good-bye! '
To office-work and seeing every file!
And scrutinising letters, asking why?
And taking part in meetings, high profile.
And checking, scanning office documents;
And signing ledgers, checques and orders, typed;
And taking part sometimes in arguments;
Most kinds of works that make man rather 'hyped! '
Yet, when man praises, people say, 'He's good! '
And when he scolds for lapses, 'He is strict! '
And when he follows rules, they say, 'He's rude! '
When things go wrong, they may even 'indict! '
Lo! This is life when men administrate!
There's no escape though you may even hate!
poem by John Celes
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Narrative Set in a Blank House
I've felt quite lonely lately.
It really puts the plight of the lonely in perspective.
I don't like it much.
It's rather boring.
You see, not much happens to a lonely man.
Anyhow, I have a friend named Ted.
He lives in Halifax.
Disliking the weather, I gave him a call.
I said, 'Hello, Ted. How are you? '
'Quite alright.' I think he said something like that.
'I feel a bit lonely, ' I said after a bit.
I recall him chuckling. 'What for? '
'I don't know.'
'Well, ' he replied, 'you got me, you know.'
'I think.' I recall pausing, to think.
I just wasn't sure. You know how that is, right?
'What do you mean? ' he asked, as a friend would ask.
'Well, ' I replied,
'I think you are why I'm lonely.'
He laughed again. Ted was a laugher.
'Why's that Jim? '
I paused again. 'Because you died, Ted.
Ten years ago.
And I'm standing here, receiver in hand,
The tone in my ears,
And your voice in my head.'
He paused. I paused. We both paused.
There was pausing enough to stop time.
And then he said, 'Wow, you must be lonely.'
I am.
poem by Leon Agnew
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Work Hard, Play Harder
Work seems to be mandatory,
For people like me,
Slaving over books at school,
Just to get the grades,
We don’t have much money,
So after school I work,
Cleaning, babysitting, retail,
It’s tiring after awhile,
Homework and coursework,
Two more pains of teenage life,
It seems to me that I,
Work all night and work all day,
In the future for many years to come,
I know I’ll have to work,
Uni work and training,
I’ll need a part time job too,
But then I see, between it all,
I do get a rest and have fun,
I have great times, out with friends,
Addicted to CSI,
So now I work faster,
To get it over with,
Cus my philosophy is,
Work hard now, play harder later.
poem by Cathryn Martin
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There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
Till he cut out his thumbs,
And said calmly, 'This comes
Of sharpening one's nails with a file!'
quote by by Edward Lear
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Monday Morning 21 May 2012
Never mastered the technique of carrying
meaning from one context to another, while
smiling in the car about last night on my way
to work, knowing which principles had been
symbolised, I am flabbergasted as to place
when in the work situation
I fail to become engrossed enough in the game
of Monopoly played as a means to earn a salary,
following arbitrary rules to keep us occupied and
move electronic documents from file to file; what
is the essence of being, can I hold on to myself
while being a child
In a reality of idiosyncratic activity without any
inherent meaning or long-term purpose except
to pass the time in such a way that bundles of
results can be quantified; those who profess to
know say simply being busy is joy in itself - but
somehow I need to invest
Everything with meaning to ensure relevance
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Death's Call
I heard my friend died yesterday,
It knocked me off my feet,
I'd passed the time of day with him
Last Wednesday, on the street,
He'd caught me at an awkward time,
I strained to get away,
He had some awful flu, or cold,
I didn't want to stay.
He phoned me later, chatted on,
I looked up at the sky,
I'm always so impatient with
This one annoying guy,
His jokes were inappropriate,
He laughed at them himself,
When wit was handed out, they left
His sitting on the shelf.
He wrote a bit, of prose and verse,
It wasn't up to scratch,
I'd see him coming up the drive
And flick across the latch,
He'd want me to critique them
And I'd hate to lay him low,
By telling him his talent was
Not up to 'so and so'.
He seemed to think that I was
Someone special in his life,
And tried to join the family
By chatting up my wife,
He really thought I didn't know
But still I kept my peace,
I didn't tell his wife on him,
Or tear him off a piece.
The one thing I will say is that
He always had a smile,
Whenever he caught up with me,
With notepad, book or file,
I've never known one try so hard
For friendship, in despair,
And in return, I'd tell the wife
'Just keep him out my hair! '
But now he's dead, so suddenly,
It's time that I took stock,
The friendship was all his, you see,
And all I did was block.
The fault was not in him, I see,
But in my tardy soul,
For he deserved much more than me,
And now, I'm feeling old.
I wasted all the chances that
He offered me, for free,
To just enjoy a simple soul,
One who looked up to me.
I'm going to miss that little man
And pray his soul to keep,
For now I'd welcome anyone
To talk to, in the street!
29 January 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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0335 Indian file
Like a set of graded kitchen pans
the newsagent's children,
back from school, file into the tiny corner shop,
and all so small, this neat, obedient, clean set,
that no-one needed lift the counter flap.
And in a moment's flash of truth, or sentiment,
I saw the beauty of the human race.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Elegy II. On The Death Of The University Beadle At Cambridge (Translated From Milton)
Thee, whose refulgent staff and summons clear,
Minerva's flock longtime was wont t'obey,
Although thyself an herald, famous here,
The last of heralds, Death, has snatch'd away.
He calls on all alike, nor even deigns
To spare the office that himself sustains.
Thy locks were whiter than the plumes display'd
By Leda's paramour in ancient time,
But thou wast worthy ne'er to have decay'd,
Or, Aeson-like, to know a second prime,
Worthy for whom some Goddess should have won
New life, oft kneeling to Apollo's son.
Commission'd to convene with hasty call
The gowned tribes, how graceful wouldst thou stand!
So stood Cyllenius erst in Priam's hall,
Wing-footed messenger of Jove's command,
And so, Eurybates when he address'd
To Peleus' son Atrides' proud behest.
Dread Queen of sepulchres! whose rig'rous laws
And watchful eyes, run through the realms below,
Oh, oft too adverse to Minerva's cause,
Too often to the Muse not less a foe,
Chose meaner marks, and with more equal aim
Pierce useless drones, earth's burthen and its shame!
Flow, therefore, tears for Him from ev'ry eye,
All ye disciples of the Muses, weep!
Assembling, all, in robes of sable dye,
Around his bier, lament his endless sleep,
And let complaining Elegy rehearse
In every School her sweetest saddest verse.
poem by William Cowper
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Castro II
A letter to Castro my friend,
A message to Castro my friend,
Including his friends and family members!
But, his works are now announced in the media;
So, i need an invitation to meet him,
For, i have a personal letter at hand to hand over to him.
Bop, lop, pop, wop, mop, cop, drop, hop;
And like a young church in the land of your muse!
But allow me to meet my friend called Castro.
Glop, kop, crop, sop, strop, slop, shop, flop, fop;
And like being in the desert with my sunglasses.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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School Days
School days, school days
where did the summer go
the beaches, festivals and summer love
time to get the backpacks ready
time to move on to the next grade
see old friends, meet new one
we all hate the first day, but love the last
no more sleeping late
now all we have is due dates
days of no work, now tons of homework
study, study study
all we dread is quizzes, but its good for the wizs
no late hangouts, no more all niter's
now we all worry about fighters
we all dream for summer to come
one by one the days go by
when is there a holiday
School day, school days
give me some school breaks
poem by Michael Peterson
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