If you put tomfoolery into a computer, nothing comes out of it but tomfoolery. But this tomfoolery, having passed through a very expensive machine, is somehow enobled and no-one dares criticize it.
quote by Pierre Gallois
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ways Of Men
Well Ive had enough of the ways of men
Said Ive had enough of the ways of men
Yes, Ive had enough of the ways of men
His sordid games rape my brain
Well, Ive had enough of his tomfoolery and shame
Yes, Ive had enough of his tomfoolery and his shame
Oooh, Ive had just enough of his tom-tom foolery and his shame
His sordid games rape my brain
As the wind sweeps across generations up and down the sweep of history
He leaves his tracks in all places, leaves his stain in all beds
He builds schools and pleasures, all designed to prevent illumination
All of his games rape my brain
He put his flag in the desert, but I need water
He put his flag in the desert, but I need water
He put his flag in the desert, but I need water
He put his flag in the desert, but I need water, water, water
Long hast thou dwelt in darkness
Quit the night, and seek the day
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A soulful waywardness
The dark cute shadow of his divorced wife stumbles in his fading memory.
And she never allows him to see the beauty.
In his stupefy dreams she comes as a witch broody.
He gets up in the middle of the night sweaty.
Though he wants to go back to her like a wishy-washy
Yet she enjoys her life in tomfoolery.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If you put garbage in a computer nothing comes out but garbage. But this garbage, having passed through a very expensive machine, is somehow ennobled and none dare criticize it.
quote by Rory Bremner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April Fool
The month of MaRcH,
Will soon pass thru the ArCh;
And then sunny ApRiL will be BoRn.
The very first day of ApRiL FoOl,
Innocent pranks are a very viable ToOl,
That colour the day till dusk, from MoRn.
One must be agreeable and GaMe,
To be painted as a duck LaMe,
Have lots of fun of April Fool's Day;
Resist from spoiling the FuN,
Abet in the merriment under the SuN,
To indulge in tomfoolery at times, is just OkAy.
poem by Pervyyn Kavarana
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My Canadian Chronicles 17
A group of us went to see a museum,
but unfortunately, it was closed.
We stood and talked to the Porter
asking when it would be open again
and how much it would cost.
My friend Melvina said we are seniors
and we will be back again.
“Oh yes, mum we will,
and can I have some candy
the next time we come mum? ”
A silly grin abolishing my face.
With everything she said
like a parrot, I followed with “Yes mum.”
The laughter rang out among us
every time I said “mum.”
Mel is only a couple of months older than me
and is my big sister really.
We cannot be twins
because I am bleached a little bit,
but she is still my sister
after all said and done.
“Aren’t you mum? ”
12 June 2009
For my very good friend and adopted sister Melvina who had to put up with my tomfoolery while I was on holiday.
poem by David Harris
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Day of Celibate Rain
Day of celibate rain,
Stamping the tomfoolery of birds
To the line.
Maybe the last time I saw your eyes
Was in high school graduation-
You said goodbye,
And now the rains, they keep up what the
Customers should,
They dampen boxes and wet wood.
And I know your name
While the airplanes go leaping,
Leaping on the weathered planes;
But it is so lonely not having you here,
And the rain makes me realize just how absolutely
Good it is to be alone,
Without a son drafted from your silver
Womb,
Without a plumber for his tomb:
And I want to think of your eyes somewhere
In the curtains of this weather,
But your eyes are good and gone
And making their own celebrating where
No poinsettias can grow,
But where the tourisms grow so much that they’ve
Become fanciful with their own generations,
And where it doesn’t rain
It snows.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Pedagogues (So Superior) [REVISED]
I am highly suspicious reading how two supercilious,
pedantic pedagogues (so superior) , reduce the whole
world to a kindergarten in which materialist orthodoxy
alone knows anything
The rest of civilization is depicted as idiots and fools
in The Science of Discworld (Revised Edition) , where
Stewart and Cohen wrote chapters on science and
Pratchett described tomfoolery of the Wizards
on the Discworld, definitely fun to read –
But a haughty, condescending tone of its boring
overview of Western science and evolution, based
on assumptions the universe is dead except for
human minds, is nauseating –
reminding of Sir David Attenborough presenting
every hypothesis and theoretic assumption as the
gospel truth. Clearly it is true that science consists
of lies for children, these narrators are scintillating
examples of how it is done with amazing ease!
“The Science of the Discworld 1” Revised Edition
Jack, Pratchett, Terry, Stewart and Ian Cohen
Kindle – bought from Amazon
[ORIGINAL]
I am highly suspicious, reading how two supercilious,
pedantic pedagogues so superior, reduce the whole
world to a kindergarten in which materialist orthodoxy
alone knows anything
The rest of civilization is depicted as idiots and fools
in The Science of Discworld Revised Edition, Stewart
and Cohen wrote the chapters on science; Pratchett
described the tomfoolery
Of the Wizards on the Discworld, fun to read - but the
haughty, condescending tone of the boring overview
of Western science and evolution based on the as-
sumption the universe is dead
Except for human minds, is nauseating - reminding of
Sir David Attenborough who presents every hypothesis
and theoretic assumption as gospel truth
Clearly it is true that science consists of lies for children,
these narrators are scintillating examples of how
it is done all the time!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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To A Jar Of Wine
O gracious jar,--my friend, my twin,
Born at the time when I was born,--
Whether tomfoolery you inspire
Or animate with love's desire,
Or flame the soul with bitter scorn,
Or lull to sleep, O jar of mine!
Come from your place this festal day;
Corvinus hither wends his way,
And there's demand for wine!
Corvinus is the sort of man
Who dotes on tedious argument.
An advocate, his ponderous pate
Is full of Blackstone and of Kent;
Yet not insensible is he,
O genial Massic flood! to thee.
Why, even Cato used to take
A modest, surreptitious nip
At meal-times for his stomach's sake,
Or to forefend la grippe.
How dost thou melt the stoniest hearts,
And bare the cruel knave's design;
How through thy fascinating arts
We discount Hope, O gracious wine!
And passing rich the poor man feels
As through his veins thy affluence steals.
Now, prithee, make us frisk and sing,
And plot full many a naughty plot
With damsels fair--nor shall we care
Whether school keeps or not!
And whilst thy charms hold out to burn
We shall not deign to go to bed,
But we shall paint creation red;
So, fill, sweet wine, this friend of mine,--
My lawyer friend, as aforesaid.
poem by Eugene Field
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Whispers From Bones
THE WAR MACHINE
IS QUITE OBSCENE
THE WAR MACHINE
IS QUITE UNCLEAN
BUT
THE WAR MACHINE
WILL NOT STOP
BECAUSE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST BE FED
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE BLOOD
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE DEATH
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE LIFE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE STRIFE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST BE FED
THE WAR MACHINE
LOVES THE DEAD
THE WAR MACHINE
WILL NOT STOP
BECAUSE
THE WAR MACHINE
IS ANGRY MAN.
poem by M.L. Squier
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Sweet, Sweet Baby
(a. bell / v. clarke)
Attention!
Set your atom transmittor at 0-3-5.
You are my sweet, sweet baby.
You are my sweet, sweet baby.
You are my sweet, sweet baby.
You are my...aou!
Aou!
Attention! ships computer to bridge.
You are my sweet machine.
You are my sweet machine.
You are my sweet machine.
Baby, you are my love!
Aou!
Aou!
Did you know that I really liked this?
I must disengage your recreational music.
You are my sweet, sweet baby.
You are my sweet machine.
You are my sweet machine.
Baby, you are my love!
How did you know that I really liked this?
Attention! ships computer to bridge.
Attention! ships computer to bridge.
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Computer Age
Cars and trucks
Fly by me on the corner
But Im all right
Standin proud before the signal
When I see the light
I know Im more than just a number.
And I stand before you
Or else we just dont see the other
Computer age computer age
Computer age.
Bikes and vans
Fly by me on the desert
But Im all right
Standing out here in the hot sun
When I see the light
I feel like more than just a number
And I stand before you
Or else we just dont see the other
Computer age computer age
Computer age.
Precious metal lines
Molded into highways
Running through me
So microscopically
Days and nights
Weeks and months and seasons
Rolling through me
So chronologically.
Computer age computer age
Computer age.
I need you
To let me know that theres a heartbeat
Let it pound and pound
And Ill be flying like a free bird
And you need me
Like ugly needs a mirror
And day by day
This horizons getting clearer
Computer age computer age
Computer age.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bags Of Fun With Buster
Performed by johnny japes and his jesticles. recorded for viz
Comics, written and produced by andy partridge, neville farmer,
And dave gregory, and featuring john otway.
Whos that dragging what looks like a pink sack of spanners down the road?
His swollen folly on a supermarket trolley to alleviate the load
Testicular tomfoolery
To the rescue of humanity
It looks a lot of balls to me
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Whos that lad with his cobblers clad in a disguise of some form?
When the cosmic power of a meteorite shower made them swell beyond the norm
Now here he comes to save mankind
His enormous nuts not far behind
And theyre not the salted kind
He cures mutes and alcoholics
When they first see his bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Theres bags of fun with buster
See them shine with evil lustre
Buster! watch out for that revolving door
Ooh buster! they look so incredibly sore
Buster! especially as you drag them through that powerful
Cleaning agent someone spilled upon the floor
Ooh buster! why do you let your sack swing so low?
Sax swing solo? yeah!
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Doctor who could defeat the daleks
If he had busters swinging space age . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his double sputnik thruster
Bags of fun with buster
Just to stroke them would disgust her
Bags of fun with buster
If she held them would you trust her?
Bags of fun with buster
Loads more balls than general custer
Bags of fun with buster
Lots more scrots than you could muster
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Machine
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
Four wheels that travel from A to B.
Why worship this idol that you see,
That’s pretty silly, don’t you agree.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
Costing a fortune, must keep its shine.
Had to have it, this knockout design.
Thought it simply something so divine.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
Depreciates in so quick a time.
Won’t last long, rusty, bang goes its prime.
It certainly won’t be worth a dime.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
A car that travels from A to B.
Not an icon, no god this taxi,
Merely moulded plastic, with a key.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Bedtime Story
Bedtime story.
An unfrocked priest concelebrates.
The ritual of the black mass.
Breathless the congregation wait.
To witness what may come to pass.
A naked prostitute serves
as altar for this blasphemy.
The priest will get what he deserves
without a doubt eventually.
A human skull holds foul incense
black candles burn on either side.
The atmosphere is growing tense.
As acolytes each in their turn
Intone their pleas to Lucifer
To grace them with his presence here
Their half afraid he will appear
And half afraid that he will not.
A stench of brimstone fills the air
The room is fast becoming hot.
It is almost too much to bear
Outside a roll of thunder peals
and lightning streaks across the sky.
Inside a crimson glow appears
Lord Lucifer enthroned on high
The congregation terrified.
Bow low to show him their respect
Their expectations satisfied.
Dramatically to great effect.
Some came fro curiosity
And some because of true belief
in his Satanic Majesty
Who holds the whole world as his fief.
Is it just a well staged show?
I am convinced that it must be.
But truthfully I do not know.
It seems to me most probably.
That someone stands to benefit
considerably financially.
Although I am quite sure of it.
I must admit reluctantly.
I have no proof to assist you
to draw your own conclusions.
As to whether it could be true
I’ll stick with my opinion.
It is a scam intended to
Prey on the gullibility
of fools with little else to do
but take part in tomfoolery.
I may be wrong quite possibly
and that Lucifer did appear.
Although I don’t think he would be
So very quick to disappear
and leave his worshippers bereft.
It was stage managed cleverly.
The lights grew dim before he left.
You can’t believe all that you see.
My tale is told it’s up to you.
You have to make up your own mind.
I cannot make it up for you.
This is the choice I leave behind.
01/09/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tin Machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Take me anywhere
Somewhere without alcohol
Or goons with muddy hair
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
The zombies that I pass
The guy that beats his baby up
The preachers and their past
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll
Baby doll
Clarity and prayer
Theres more than money moving here
Theres mindless maggot glare
Working horrors-humping tories
Spittle on their chins
Carving up my childrens future
Read em pal and grin
Raging raging raging
Burning in my room
Cmon and get a good idea
Cmon and get it soon
Im waiting on the fire escape
Im not exactly well
Im neither red nor black nor white
Im grey and blown to hell
Tin machine
Tin machine
Make some new computer thing
That puts me on the moon
Not this psycho-time-bomb planet
Poised to meet its maker
Shake a leg
Tin machine
Tin machine
One sick deathless duty to remain endangered species
They reach right out to touch someone
Then wash their crusty hands
Tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll
Baby doll
Blue suede tuneless wonders
Mass confusion-faithless blues
Night that spews out watchmen
Mopping up another fortune
Fractured words and branca-sonic
Anger trapped behind locked doors
And right between the eyes
Raging raging raging
Burning in my room
Cmon and get a good idea
Cmon and get it soon
Im waiting on the fire escape
Im not exactly well
Im neither red nor black nor white
Im grey and blown to hell
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Take me anywhere
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman Machine
She'll do your work in half the time
Never sick and can't go blind
Oh, woman machine
Brains of tape that fill her head
She knows more now than all the dead
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Heart of steel and skin that's cold
Can't wear her out, she can't grow old
Oh, woman machine
She goes to bed when her work is through
She'll do it all, just change the tubes
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine-ine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman
She can't talk back
With no playback
But she'll listen
To all your woe
Trade your old one
For a new one
They just don't make 'em like they used to
No!
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
''...exceeds one million when the stop button is pressed,
the... has results PCR621, into the drayer reading pool
to hold the relay on for one quarter second after the
Q603 deenergizes. Therefore, the time delay occurs only
when the stop button is pressed, during the record nine.
The sole function of the capacitor c620 is to maintain
charge in
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like No Other That Identifies
He is not attacked because he is right.
He is attacked because he dares to be right.
He dares to defy those on the side of lies.
And eyes wide open need not to have experience...
To observe the divisiveness within them that exist!
They wish to remain addicted to this.
This 'fix' applied to their ignorance,
It is much too expensive!
Although it is an observation,
They prefer to keep secretly well hidden.
And he does not have to be black at all.
To point out these facts...
Backtracking on a progress,
That remains historically stalled!
He could be of any color.
But he is not easily the one sidetracked.
And those who follow him agree...
He is like no other that identifies...
With the need to move forward,
Desperately!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 25
I’ve got all the latest gadgets, all the games and toys surround me
My Wii, X-box and Playstation all set out uniformly
A whole wall full of DVD’s, several racks full of CD’s,
Reclining electric vibrating chair to tilt and put me at ease
The coffee machine with the little pods is sitting on the side
A flat screen digital television that’s 60 inches wide
A music entertainment station with I-Pod connection bay
The latest computer system that I updat every day
Leather sofas and expensive art scattered here and there
Deep pile carpet warm and soft laid everywhere
Everything I could need or want my money has got for me
So why do I sit and cry because the place feels so empty
poem by Flying Lemming
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My Computer
"what?" they say, "you got a
computer?"
it's like I have sold out to
the enemy.
I had no idea so many
people were prejudiced
against
computers.
even two editors have
written me letters about
the computer.
one disparaged the
computer in a mild and
superior way.
the other seemed
genuinely
pissed.
I am aware that a
computer can't create
a poem.
but neither can a
typewriter.
yet, still, once or
twice a week
I hear:
"what?
you have a
computer?
you?"
yes, I do
and I sit up here
almost every
night,
sometimes with
beer or
wine,
sometimes
without
and I work the
computer.
the damn thing
even corrects
my spelling.
and the poems
come flying
out,
better than
ever.
I have no
idea what causes
all this
computer
prejudice.
me?
I want to go
the next step
beyond the
computer.
I'm sure it's
there.
and when I get
it,
they'll say,
"hey, you hear,
Chinaski got a
space-biter!"
"what? "
"yes, it's true!"
"I can't believe
it!"
and I'll also have
some beer or
some wine
or maybe nothing
at all
and I'll be
85 years old
driving it home
to
you and me
and to the little girl
who lost her
sheep.
or her
computer.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Check My Machine
(Spoken) Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones
But Names Will Never Hurt Me
Check My Machine
Check Check Check Check Check My Machine
Check My Machine
Check Check Check Check Check My Machine
(Repeat) -
I Got A Woman A Long Time Ago
I Had Trouble
I Want You To See What You Can See
Check My Machine
Check Check Check Check Check My Machine
Check My Machine
Check Check Check Check Check My Machine
(Ad Lib)
I Want You To Check Check Check Check Check My Machine Check Check Check Check Check My
Machine
(Ad Lib)
Check Check Check Check Check My Machine
(Repeat)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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