Linux Songs Poems

The camel has a single hump;
The dromedary two;
Or else the other way around.
I'm never sure.  Are you?
                -- Ogden Nash

The carbonyl is polarized,
The delta end is plus.
The nucleophile will thus attack,
The carbon nucleus.
Addition makes an alcohol,
Of types there are but three.
It makes a bond, to correspond,
From C to shining C.
                -- Prof. Frank Westheimer, to "America the Beautiful"

The common cormorant, or shag,
Lays eggs inside a paper bag;
The reason, you will see, no doubt,
Is to keep the lightning out.
But what these unobservant birds
Have failed to notice is that herds
Of bears may come with buns
And steal the bags to hold the crumbs.

The difference between us is not very far,
cruising for burgers in daddy's new car.

The eyes of Texas are upon you,
All the livelong day;
The eyes of Texas are upon you,
You cannot get away;
Do not think you can escape them
From night 'til early in the morn;
The eyes of Texas are upon you
'Til Gabriel blows his horn.
                -- University of Texas' school song

The garden is in mourning;
The rain falls cool among the flowers.
Summer shivers quietly
On its way towards its end.

Golden leaf after leaf
Falls from the tall acacia.
Summer smiles, astonished, feeble,
In this dying dream of a garden.

For a long while, yet, in the roses,
She will linger on, yearning for peace,
And slowly
Close her weary eyes.
                -- Hermann Hesse, "September"

The glances over cocktails
That seemed to be so sweet
Don't seem quite so amorous
Over Shredded Wheat

The good (I am convinced, for one)
Is but the bad one leaves undone.
Once your reputation's done
You can live a life of fun.
                -- Wilhelm Busch

The good life was so elusive
It really got me down
I had to regain some confidence
So I got into camouflage

The good time is approaching,
The season is at hand.
When the merry click of the two-base lick
Will be heard throughout the land.
The frost still lingers on the earth, and
Budless are the trees.
But the merry ring of the voice of spring
Is borne upon the breeze.
                -- Ode to Opening Day, "The Sporting News", 1886