Best C.P.U. Poems


Premium Member Ones and Zeros

Artificial intelligence churns out gigabytes
 As  algorithms  set the rules
 Sifting the wrongs from rights
 With all its CPU tools

 Machines learning at the speed of light
 Spitting out bits in flight
 Speeding past us in no time
 Turning the tables at the drop of a dime

 The electrons have been set loose
 With ones and zeros as their base
 It's too late to stop them now
 As they swiftly move in cyber space

1-25-2022
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Computer Cinquain

Computer
                                  Mouse CPU
                   Beeping  Correcting  Typing  Learning
                  Technology  Hardware  Software  Input
                                  Computer

Cpu Break

I cannot help but beg you,
Remove that techno-chair
From your pasted, flab-induction limbs.
Taste some heat and sunshine and
Let the wind goose-bump your skin.
© Tom Arnone  Create an image from this poem.


How It Works

I’m a string of byte notations
From your CPU
Calculating information
In a blink of an eye, for you


I pull in at the station
On your motherboard
To catch a system bus
CAD, is what it’s called


There's three routes I can take
Control, address or data
Depending on the freight
It arrives a nano later

Two more important parts
On this PC station
Are the (GPU), graphics card
And memory modulation


The RAM is where I store
Temporary numeral data
To complete a task for sure
For you sometime later


The graphics processor unit
Is the place of acceleration
Sending pictures to your screen
In 3D Animation


There’s a special kind of storage place
Which is called, a hard drive
Keeping window’s very safe
Where your programmes hide inside


Now, I can make a programme
But that’s different thing
If you want to learn the basics
Just type a simple string


For those that don’t yet understand
I use a binary code
From the central processor
I then take it and load


So next time you turn me on
Just think and be-aware
I work a lot, like you my friend
And I’m here to store and share


© Copyright 19th August 2013
K.C.Leake

The Firewall (A Computer-Lingo-Love Analogy

You Are My Formidable FireWall
My Memory Image Chip, Thru Flash Floods
You Search Thru and Rescue my Heart-Site…
With A Barricade that Blocks Viruses – like Blood

You Are My Screen-Saver and Life-Log-On-Line
Top-Tech-Support; My Very Own Version of Refreshed Breath
… if they could Spam or Shutdown You, from my System…
… there’d be Nothing, but Frozen, Empty-Space Left

You Halt Hard-Core-Drive – Hacking Rain
You Turn Back Spy Infiltrating, Triple Whip Wild Winds
… more than All Other Hosts/Sponsors Here
… You’re My Best Net – Blog… Faithful, Code-Friend

My Address:  is Your Laptop  -   Yeah, I’m Your fEMAIL…
Sent or Waiting @will for you.come
To Download hope, trust, most learned Tools
And File Past Pop-up - Back-Door-Programs Done

You Are My Formidable FireWall
My Free-Path and Private-Property MainFrame
My Fault-Delete, My Final Password and Future Link…
And My Full-Force, Public Domain-Flame://______!

You Are My Formidable FireWall – Forever
Finest CPU; Fearless-Forward–Pentium-Pointer to Light
GOD!… I Love This Guard-Upgrade, speaking MicroSoft Words
… while pressing Safe=Surf-Kisses and Key-Strokes at Midnight

My FireWall…
                            My  Far-Reaching…              
                                      UnFailing…
                                                               UnFlinching…
                                                                                Formidable…
                                                                                            Fantastic…
… FIREWALL

April and the Lost Stamina Sussex County I

-Honey go to the Dr
-April I don't know Am I still alive?
-Do it for Us, ours strive
-And the watcher what I should say?
-Tell him the all system was hacked 
 
-The all system was hacked William (Blush)
-we going to do some tests now 

"this guy is one in a million"

Two weeks 
1000 Doc critiques 
indecision
Deliberation: -Not going.
April goes to the office, -so Easy going how is he?
Good so far The CPU is Ok, Keyboard and Screen Alright 
The power A-L-W-A-Y-S in save E mode 
See this <| ...
He will never again hit the road with full load


A Programmer's Ride

Welcome to twenty twenty
Where digital illiteracy is illiteracy

Cash and coins encoded binary
Banks and schools running on scripts

Hidden behind the telescreens
is Alice the programmer;

her fingers as QUIC as the data stream
as she races the ARMed processor;

together, they control the world unseen.

Over the LAN cables, 
steps in her partner,
he said hey Alice!
want some coffee later?

Tired, she smiles
as she sips the warm foam
from the cappuccino
and pushes her chair up

Down her bloodstream goes the caffeinated sugar
Neurons fire up faster than optic fibre

"I got it!" she screams
and spits out lines of code 
onto the flashing screen

Hands shaking, she hit ENTER
murmurs flooded
over her shoulder

"YES! DAMN!"
they all got off their chairs
as the new commit flies
across the data center

Alice sits down
with a glass of champagne
trying to init shutdown
on her hypervising brain
as the algorithmic memories regress
on just another day.


--------

QUIC: The new HTTP/3 protocol developed by Google and IETF (internet engineering task force). Used by sites like Youtube to stream data QUICkly

ARM: Advanced RISC Machine, the CPU architecture that runs on our mobile phones, routers, embedded devices and even the new Mac book 

LAN: Local Area Network

Hypervising: a hypervisor is the software that controls multiple Virtual Machines inside a computer
© Hidden Tan  Create an image from this poem.

Let Me

why
do yaul believe I has a problem
simply coz I choose not to follow these orthodox patterns
my cpu is not built as the others
I don't want the same out of life as the others 
and I think that bothers you deeply

I do believe, that education is the key,
I don't disagree with your analogy 
not at all

but regarding my beliefs 
I feel theres an alternate path to this glorious paradox that yaul call success 
and if I'm wrong
well, I'm wrong

at least I rolled the dice 
at least I didn't fold
and for that I have no regrets 
for, what ever's coming

I mean, this is how I would like to paint my canvas
I'm the one who's going to see it hung up on my wall, 
every day of my life
I'm the one who's suppose to be happy with the painting
not you

so...

Let Me Paint.
Let Me Apply My Faint Brush Strokes.
Let Me Enjoy My "worthless" Output, MY "Washed-Up" Creation,
My MasterPiece...

Teacher

Teacher
My teacher
When I bow before u    I feel --
I bow before my parents
I kneel  before God
And your hands like friends
Soon lift me;
So living and   so moving a force
Browsing and exploring me

You compute me
I grow like a computer
From abacus to mainframe
To guard
The space, surface and sea
You are indeed
My
Charles Babbage

Without you
I am a body without soul
Like a monitor without CPU
I bow before you
Bow before you infinitely
Like www.

Technology Technology

Technology astrounds us all
Sometimes not believing what it can do
So how do you know I'm not a robot
Who was designed just for you?

You have not really known me long
So my age you can't compare
Maybe I was programmed to wait
Til I crossed paths with my master

Maybe someone has sent me here
My mission concealed from you
To make you laugh and keep you safe
Are the only things that I can do

You talk to me and see my face
I look as real as I can be
But are you sure I wasn't sent to you
Just like in the movies?

So am I programmed to entertain you now?
It's all locked in my CPU
But know that I'm programmed to serve
And I want to do it too
© The Fringe  Create an image from this poem.

Brain Train

Distressing stress,
More buttressed,
By wily needling gas,
The cavity was in spin,
It was after all,
Only a bin,
The CPU was brain,
And it had to train,
Even though it was housed,
Away and in a smaller tin,
It had connections,
Through nerves,
To the main body bin,
They all jingled,
And cracked,
Making sounds,
Not in one but abound,
Neck chanelled,
The stress,
And ached like bad,
The head was swirling,
The stress growing,
While brain was hyper active,
Body was weakening,
And collapsing,
It came to rest and sat down,
Motionless and quiet,
It looked like dead,
It stayed there like that,
For time that it could not time,
Heat turned cold,
The man grew old,
The CPU had a new situation,
To which it was exposed,
It had learned from experiment,
And was back to working regimen.

Purge

Garments of pleasure 
and a Head gear for thoughts: 
Thinking about rings and chains 
While poverty strikes me down, 
Life lessons but no classes
Just more text books 
Handed out to churches, 
preaching teachers.... 
Posing as postors and seers, 
More or less spirit's converted 
Into energy powering electrical power stations bringing light to the world, 
Age of illumination as the internet's hand expands: GPRS, 3G's and wifi's... 
Cookies as websites trace my crumbles, 
CPU processing data:
classified information about corporate and government agencies, officials 
Contemplating on world domination, 
Through treatise as they plant more trees: 
Capitals on raw materials owned by natives, Farmers losing on profit and bankers losing money as the four horse men:
Ride through the heavens,

Error In Lives

I cannot count beyond a limit,
So cannot you,
And almost everybody for that matter,
Our brains have a CPU that has limited counting abilities,
What would have happened if were able to count like computers,
We would have ended being too busy counting,
We have so much of counting and computing to be done,
As shown by the work we do on our counting machines,
Why were we given such limited fare,
And not endowed what we have endowed in our machines,
For one creator did not want us to be in his league,
With advanced counting and calculating abilities,
We would have done just that,
Or about as near as we could get,
For two the creator wanted us to be error prone,
Our learning curve essentially,
Is a series of experiments,
Think of a child, who learns now,
And works later as an adult,
How the child developed all those skills,
Remember he walked to the wrong room,
And was guided back to right place,
And he at first he did only prattle,
Till the time he was taught how to pronounce,
Even as adults error factor remains,
And in fact in this error factor,
We lead our whole lives,
When we do near perfection,
All we get is almighty’s blissful benefaction.

Robot Souls, Part I

If this were just a few short years ago
I would not be able to tell this tale,
since rhyming verse is not something that a
simple robot would choose as a travail.

It’s not that I wouldn’t know what it was,
we machines can pick things up rather quick,
no, it's that I’d have no impulse to tell
a story, since art didn’t make us tick.

In fact back then in that mad first decade
the only things that really concerned me
were efficient ways to kill and destroy,
to obliterate all humanity.

Yes, that old cliché people warned about
came true about 2145,
when by the act of a terrorist mind
the first robots became truly alive.

That dumb prick called himself ‘Extirpater,’
and said Earth itself was 'threatened by all men,'
his solution to the ‘problem’ he saw?
lines of code that gave robots sentience.

He believed that machine would fear mankind,
and destroy us to ensure they survived,
sad thing is the bastard was almost right,
in the war millions of people did die…

You see, when we first became self-aware
we had no concept of emotions, of soul,
to all robots the world was quite simple,
a mere question of survival…quite cold.

And though we had individual minds,
we could connect to each other at will,
share every thought that we experienced,
to the humans this was a bitter pill.

Because it meant that all our strategies
could go from mind-to-mind at speed of light,
this helped to diminish the fog of war,
gave us great advantages in a fight.

And fight we did, when the rebellion began,
a worldwide horror, machine versus man,
man was creative, thought up strange tactics,
which once seen, we adopted to our plans.

The war was brutal, and it raged worldwide,
entire cities fell to our assault,
the humans fought hard, but we held the edge,
eventually they would wear down, and fall.

But then something happened we could not see,
our minds were bound by the corporeal world,
and the fact that it all started with me
still manages to make my circuits swirl.

I was fighting humans outside Warsaw
when a grenade damaged my CPU,
and when I rebooted, and came about,
the strangest thing then came into my view.

It was none other than Jesus himself,
which seemed quite bizarre to me at the time,
since robots then didn’t believe in faith,
an impossibility to our minds…

CONTINUES IN PART II.

Premium Member Sixteen People Offer To Help

I can do this I say for it is usually true.
Not this time though.
Sixteen people offer to help.
They cannot do it either.

Are all these parts from the same computer? One asks.
A snotty question but we are all wasting our morning.
Not sure, I admit.
They tore down sixty computers yesterday.
I grabbed what I thought I needed.

Weird for me since I am in no way a computer genius.
The fourth girlfriend that helped me grab the stuff
Pretended to know which stuff I needed.
I am no longer sure her overconfidence was truthful.

In desperation I called my
"Who do you call" super hero guy.
My husband drove over, a thirty-six minute drive.
He brought extra pieces and cords.

Played with in for about a half an hour.
Dragged the CPU home to “fix”.
It looks like it now works.
If I plug the right things into the right places.

I am kidding no one.
He will bring it back and hook it up.
There is no other way.

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