Linux Songs Poems

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...

...and report cards I was always afraid to show
Mama'd come to school
and as I'd sit there softly cryin'
Teacher'd say he's just not tryin'
Got a good head if he'd apply it
but you know yourself
it's always somewhere else
I'd build me a castle
with dragons and kings
and I'd ride off with them
As I stood by my window
and looked out on those
Brooklyn roads
                -- Neil Diamond, "Brooklyn Roads"

And so it was, later,
As the miller told his tale,
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.
                -- Procol Harum

And the silence came surging softly backwards
When the plunging hooves were gone...
                -- Walter de La Mare, "The Listeners"

And this is good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots,
And the Cabots talk only to God.

And we heard him exclaim
As he started to roam:
"I'm a hologram, kids,
please don't try this at home!'"
                -- Bob Violence