Linux Songs Poems

And as we stand on the edge of darkness
Let our chant fill the void
That others may know

        In the land of the night
        The ship of the sun
        Is drawn by
        The grateful dead.
                -- Tibetan "Book of the Dead," ca. 4000 BC.

And did those feet, in ancient times,
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
In England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon these crowded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spears!  O clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I shall not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword rest in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
                -- William Blake, "Jerusalem"

And here I wait so patiently
Waiting to find out what price
You have to pay to get out of
Going thru all of these things twice
                -- Dylan, "Memphis Blues Again"

And I heard Jeff exclaim,
As they strolled out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all --
You take credit cards, right?"
                -- "Outsiders" comic

And if California slides into the ocean,
Like the mystics and statistics say it will.
I predict this motel will be standing,
Until I've paid my bill.
                -- Warren Zevon, "Desperados Under the Eaves"

And if sometime, somewhere, someone asketh thee,
"Who kilt thee?", tell them it 'twas the Doones of Bagworthy!

And if you wonder,
What I am doing,
As I am heading for the sink.
I am spitting out all the bitterness,
Along with half of my last drink.

And in the heartbreak years that lie ahead,
Be true to yourself and the Grateful Dead.
                -- Joan Baez

And miles to go before I sleep.
                -- Robert Frost

And now your toner's toney,             Disk blocks aplenty
And your paper near pure white,         Await your laser drawn lines,
The smudges on your soul are gone       Your intricate fonts,
And your output's clean as light..      Your pictures and signs.

We've labored with your father,         Your amputative absence
The venerable XGP,                      Has made the Ten dumb,
But his slow artistic hand,             Without you, Dover,
Lacks your clean velocity.              We're system untounged-

Theses and papers                       DRAW Plots and TEXage
And code in a queue                     Have been biding their time,
Dover, oh Dover,                        With LISP code and programs,
We've been waiting for you.             And this crufty rhyme.

Dover, oh Dover,                Dover, oh Dover, arisen from dead.
We welcome you back,            Dover, oh Dover, awoken from bed.
Though still you may jam,       Dover, oh Dover, welcome back to the Lab.
You're on the right track.      Dover, oh Dover, we've missed your clean
                                        hand...