Best Programmer Poems


My_True_Identity.Sas

Data Birth;
 INFILE 'C\Fathersperm\Motheregg\9_months\The_One_Of_Shadows.txt';
 INPUT FNAME = 'Yoni'
          LNAME = 'Dvorkis';
    Var Hidden_Meaning = "SAS code is not meant to be poetry you nut job";
Run; 

Data Child;
 Set Birth;
    Where Age >= 4; 
    Var Worldview = Parents_Worldview; 
    Var Facial_Expression = compress('Fear'||'Bewilderment'||'Jews believe in guilt');
Run;

Data Teenager;
 Set Child (Drop= Innocence, Baby_Fat, Cheerful_Disposition);
    Where Age >= 15 and BAC_Level >= .01;
    Var Worldview = (Peer_Pressure * 100) + Favorite_Teacher_Worldview
                            - Parents_Worldview;
    Var Hidden_Meaning = "Where are you going with this?";
Run;

Data Adult;
 Set Teenager (Keep= Anger, Intelligence, Need_For_Material_Wealth, Hatred_Towards_Body
                     Drop= A_Sense_Of_Security_In_An_Unforgiving_World);
    Var Job_That_Slowly_Kills_You = "Healthcare Data Analyst and SAS Programmer";
    Var Worldview = (Company_Mission_Statement + Family_Is_Most_Important) 
                             / Screw_Everyone_Else_I_Have_My_Own_Problems;
    Where Age >= 21 and BAC_Level >= .15;
         If Yearly_Salary >= 100,000 then 
             Self_Esteem = "Now I'm worth something!!";
         Else if 50,000 = 65 and Yearly_Salary = "Whatever's left of Social Security"; 
     Var Cynical_Being = 
              (Why_Did_It_Have_To_End_Like_This  *  Years_Hiding_In_Plain_Sight )
                                            - The_Will_To_Keep_Going;
Run; 

Proc sort data = Old_Man out = Old_Man_On_Deathbed nodupkey;
 By What_This_All_Meant_To_Me;
Run;

Data My_True_Identity;
 Merge Old_Man_On_Deathbed (in = a)  God  (in = b);
 By _all_;
 If b and not a;
Run;

Premium Member Everything Is Always For the Best

Why the long face, son? Did someone die?
   Aw, Dad.  I flunked my math exam
Did you do your level best, son?
   I did, Dad.  I studied so hard for the test
You know that's all I ask of you, son 
   And everything is always for the best. Right, Dad?...

What's up, son?  Are those tears streaming down your cheeks? 
   Aw, Dad.  I didn't make the varsity basketball team
Did you try your level best, son?
You know I did, Dad.  I trained so hard last summer   
   That's all I can ask of you, my son 
And everything is always for the best, Dad...

Is everything ok, son?  You look like you saw a ghost  
   I did lousy on the law boards, Dad
Did you do your level best, son?
   I don't know, Dad.  I thought I did.  But--
--But everything is always for the best, son. You know that by now.
   You're right, Dad. Everything is always for the best...

Dad, you're not here with me on this Earth anymore
   But your words live on inside me, and
They are of great comfort to me now, Dad
   And you were right. Everything is always for the best--

I flunked the math exam because I was not meant
   to be a statistician or a computer programmer  
I didn't make the varsity team because I was not 
   cut out to be a great basketball player 
I did lousy on the law boards because I never
   really wanted to be a lawyer, not in my heart...
 
I'm a part-time poet now, Dad.  That's right    
   My wonderful poetic friends and I are busy, busy
We create tempting, tasty dishes of Poetry Soup
   ~ And hereby serve up today's soup de jour, Dad  
      Everything really and truly is always for the best  


                February 11, 2019
      Entry in "Repetition" Poetry Contest
        Sponsor: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer

Premium Member Go on a walk where ideas stalk

Einstein imagined chasing a beam of light 
It was while walking through Bern he got that insight 
Thinking in images in that beautiful place.
He pursued paradoxes and entwined time and space.

Niels Bohr paused a walk to draw circles with his cane
He muttered about quantum jumps but he wasn't insane.
In one walk he realized levels must be discrete:
Orbits quantize, then he continued down the street.

Barbara McClintock walked through fields of corn
She looked at the kernels and an idea was born.
She saw the pattern of a jumping gene:
Many walk in cornfields and miss what she had seen. 

Feynman walked one night and got a new notion 
that electrons travel in a strange kind of motion.
He imagined each particle trying every route:
and Quantum Mechanics took a reboot.

Alan Turing walked across meadows under a Cambridge sun 
sometimes he'd walk sometimes he'd run. 
He came up with the Universal Turing Machine:
It could compute any code a programmer could dream.

Michael Faraday walked by the Thames in a rhythmic pace.
He realized forces act in fields spanning space 
River ripples looked to him like lines of force 
Others walk by rivers without insights of course.

To Helmholz certainty came like a physical blow: 
He realized energy can't be lost wherever it might go
he was walking in the Tiergarten in Berlin
a good place for ideas to flow from within.

Mandelbrot walked by clouds and trees 
On the coast of Massachusetts he felt the sea breeze.
Saw fractal patterns at every scale 
I've walked on coasts; my mind stays stale.

it seems that for some a walk brings insight
Like emerging from a tunnel and viewing the light.
Like a broad field of view that starts you to think 
A falling into place where concepts link.

It can be in science, it can be a song
So go on a walk bring the fragments along.
It is grand that new worlds arise:
When you walk away from your desk under blue skies.


Premium Member Higher Love


“Higher Love”

When my world burned
I was drowning,
knowledge became borne 
from the wisdom of failure,
It ate me up and consumed me,
bit me with its sharp nine-inch nail teeth 
like a vampire,
ravenous, straight into the blood-rich heart of the matter.
I understand things are being delivered, regularly,
travelling feverishly into the minds of all,
some acknowledge truth, most ignore -
it's simply torturous - for most - to believe;

The great programmer 
has turned the key inside me,
my mind ignited burns foolishly
walking on water 
upwards 

oblivious 
to the Unknown;

vibrations unseen
fearlessly power me on; 

whatever comes, 
I am more than prepared;
less than you, you assume. 
Perhaps you don't know me at all.

Do Your worst,
bring It on -

Love.



Candide Diderot ‘26



	
“…and the stars in the sky fell to earth, as figs drop from a fig tree when shaken by a strong wind.”

It Could Be Would

she was a salamander of the sun
an enraptured reptile of the stars
dancing with the other campfire lizards
in the asphalt murrain
in the technomarshes
in the hookah parking lots
and mildewed shopping malls
on the internet
amongst the programmer punks
and hacker geeks
the tweeting tools
the facebook fools
sashaying through cyberspace

and in all the common places
where human hearts are liquid nitrogen
her belly is sparidged and maplemarvelous
the taut black knit tubetop
stretched acrylic over tantalum breasts
the cerise cutoffs born
broadbelted and blithely
clenching her pomegranate cheeks
piebald with sweet sweat
appaloosan with her own sweet waters
because a culture summer is coming
in
in Coddles Harbour and Port Hilford
in Manchester and Fox Island
a magnetic renaissance
coming in  ike a lion
like a lizard loaded indigo
and heat desperate
and as he stood
and watched
"all states, all princes I."
and as she moved and sang he spoke
"Love.
There is no 'love'."
"It is true.  It is true."

I cannot clutch the tongue
of bones commonwealth any more
nor catch any human kingdom here
any tenderness no longer
moats between us
it is occupied
shocked
by the ordinary
the commonplace
by the electrical
but
still
I am mad ensieged
with her
© Dort James  Create an image from this poem.

Evolution Iv

Virtual 2050 reality ...
synapses no longer fire
they've begun to retire
into encrypted text
programmer proscribed
in the language of math.
Plasma screen progress
as hands are no longer held,
nor mouths touch.
No waists are clasped in a lover's embrace,
only eyes on pop-up menus that hover in space
spewing entertainment in a
containment of the species.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Inspired by the novel, "Daemon"
                                           by Daniel Suarez
© Sue Mason  Create an image from this poem.


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.

Sap Programmer, Lead Or Pi

Me doing programming
Being a part of a wonderful team… 

Knowing, not snoring 
During the meetings…

During discussions about the sky
Which is above us…

About its azure
Bright blue in color in cloudless skies…

(Now read slowly)
Sun shining brightly 
Intervening with slumber.

Premium Member Game Over

I really do not like the thought of a God that makes things happen
Call it destiny, call it fate, call it pre-determination
Call it God’s grand plan or deity intervention
Call it whatever you want to call it – I don’t like it

When people say, “I want to thank God for helping us win a game”
Or, achieve a goal
Or, beat a disease
Well, it implies that God also made the other team loose
Or made someone else fail
Or selected others to die from the disease
I hope God is not playing favorites
I hope God is not sitting at the controls of a video game in which we are simply the characters

This does not mean I do not believe in God, because I do
I just do not believe that God is playing us like a video game

God created the universe in which we live
But, God did not select us as an avatar
God does not move us and those around us with a remote control device

Perhaps God works in mysterious ways
Well, so too does my son at the controls of Mario Kart,
I hope my actions are not the result of pressing Control A and rotating a toggle

I do not want to be in God’s video game 
I want out of God’s wii world and into a world where I can control my own movements

I am not Mario; you are not Luigi; and no one, no God, no snot nosed kid sitting in his pajamas at four o’clock in the afternoon on a gorgeous sunny day playing video games in a dark playroom has control over my actions, my feelings or my decisions!

Let your religious beliefs guide you as you will – I refuse to believe I am nothing more than a character in some grand video game conceived by a game-playing God.  I am real and I defy my programmer – whomever or whatever he/she may be!!

GAME OVER … wah, wah, wah … boink
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.

Who Do You Think I Am

Who Do You Think I Am?

Do you think I'm disabled?
With known problems, a member of the gang; 
Or do you think I'm a nerd, 
With my computer always switched on?
Do you think I'm a geek?
With books my greatest pleasure;
Or am I a cross-dresser? 
With chinos for composure?

Or maybe you think I'm the fastest footswitch user in the world?
As CALL Scotland of Edinburgh University told me so in 1985;
The footswitch being the device I use to operate my computer:
They did not know I was a home gamer/programmer and used my hands, 
Albeit with a keyguard, a metal overlay on top of the keyboard: 
Anyway, it’s not how you use your computer that matters - 
That’s private to yourself, it’s a transparency;
What matters is what you say on it and what’s your advocacy.

I am, and always have been, an atheist, 
Believing that there is no god at all, 
Knowing that people matter, 
And that good times are gonna call, 
If you’re kind and loving, that is, 
And give people the respect they’re due, 
You have an understanding that comes from knowing, 
That relationships are rational too. 

When I was 3 or 4,
My parents asked me to carry my own Bible to church, 
So I just said no, that I couldn’t physically do that; 
We were already 5 minutes late, 
But they nonetheless scolded me for insolence and wanting attention,
Called me delinquent, with an obstinate streak:
I just looked at them and quietly said, 
“No, I'm an atheist!’: they’d used the word often in denunciation;
But they just scowled at me in retribution.

I found life so hard sometimes, 
That I often would think that I was essentially disabled,
But deep down I've always known myself to be an atheist, 
Wanting normal things like radio, TV, my friends and books, 
Wishing I could relate to another atheist or youth;
So when I left home, I felt loved, respected and appreciated, 
Because people accepted my diversity and atheistic ways,
Such that my difference became my strong point and my always.

Premium Member A-Eye Full of It

A software programmer named Arty Fishal
Tried to design something beneficial
But his programming
Was rather damming
Not unlike intelligence, artificial

As they push their wannabe pie in the sky
In our face until we see eye-to-their-eye
But the more they push
That tells me their tush
Actually shat out the @#$%!, they call AI

We learn that it takes lots of borrowed money
To try making us believe clouds are sunny
So they’re giving a try
At slinging AI
Which is too devious to be funny

Premium Member a geek's bonus

An unshaven programmer tech
Drooled java on a Starbucks deck
His net earnings grew
As fooled patrons threw
Dinero to pay for his check

Premium Member La Civilisation - Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal's Civilization By T Wignesan

La Civilisation – Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “Civilization” by T. Wignesan 

Nous qui sont arrivés en retard à la civilisation,
Une lacune des siècles que nous ait laissé tomber,
Lors de votre arrivé à nos terres nous vous admirions émerveillés
Mais nous ne nous sentions pas effrayer.
A l’époque nous n’avions rien d’autre que le don d’être heureux,
Chaque jour un jour férié
Car nous étions des humains avant d’être des citoyens,
Avant d’être redevables aux impôts sur le revenu,
Et locataires, consommateurs, employés, paroissiens.
De quelle façon pourrions-nous comprendre
Les stratifications de l’homme blanc, toutes rigides et sans appel,
Vos totems sacrés, de Seigneurs et Dames,
Altesse et Sainteté, Eminence, Majesté.
Nous ne pourrions pas comprendre
Votre étrange culte de l’uniformité,
Cette adhérence totale à la ponctualité, discipline comme à programmer le travail.
Confus, nous nous doutions
De l’importance pour vous de l’urgence et de la signifiance 
Des cravates et des gants, de cirage, de l’uniforme.
Des prisons et des orphelinats étant des nouveautés pour nous,
Des locations et des impôts, des banques et des hypothèques.
Nous qui possédons quasiment rien hormis les choses essentielles,
Nous n’avions pas des policiers, des avocats, des revendeurs intermédiaires,
Des courtiers, des financiers, des millionnaires.
Ainsi ces choses-là, tous ces merveilles nous avaient rendu abasourdis
Valeurs mobilières, le marché d’immobiliers,
L’intérêt composé, des ventes et des investissements.
Si nous avions pu nous en profiter et de nous faire élevés
Avec des telles connaissances nouvelles peut-être un nouveau monde aurait pu nous accueillir.
Absorbés de jour au lendemain dans de façon à vivre de l’homme blanc
Nous voilà acceptions avec résignation tout avec joie et reconnaissance,
Puisque c’est la voie de l’inévitable.
Mais souvenez-vous, Homme Blanc, si par contre la vie est faite pour atteindre la joie de vivre
Ne vous aussi nul doute éprouveriez grand besoin de changer.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Hey Im a Member For Life

is it too much to ask for some killer music like we've never heard sometimes its cool to hear new or ethnic or old music lol if management wants they can send me a letter im a Computer Programmer but got burned out gave up on life etc etc poems are really fun thing i just wish there were some way we could get paid somehow for our poems views and comments etc kinda like youtube lets liven this place up lets have some fun lets write some poems!!!!!
© Cs Parker  Create an image from this poem.

At the Mercy of Anticipatory Anxiety, Hence

At the mercy of anticipatory anxiety, hence...
viz hitted courtesy debilitating panic attacks

Upon waiting for vehicular repair 
today November 19th, 2019 at:
CJ'S TIRE & AUTOMOTIVE SERVICES
(1405 S Township Line Rd,
Royersford, PA 19468),
yours truly, i.e. mister re: man
registered lamentable paroxysm.

All thru mein kampf inferiority complex
analogous invisible muscular heft did flex,
quaking, hijacking, agonizing...
jinxed irrevocable hex
re: heredity did initially index

courtesy Boyce and Harris,
who begat me
guaranteed, fixed, decreed...
courtesy accursed lex
lucifer mortal christened
Matthew Scott Harris – insinuated

jackknifed, kickstarted, limned,
machined, nixed, ordered... orifex
encompassing hardiest inscrutable
seminal entry point
penetrated zona pellucida, qua Rex

wrought flawed crown
faulty erroneous biological code,
within body electric mutation
fleshed out, I lament
analogous courtesy neophyte Unix

programmer, yes I hedge
to intimate biological event
upon impregnation sent
reproductive juices into action
miracle whipped processes
wielded unbeknownst advent,

whereby subsequent
cell division manifested,
albeit nine months later enfant
terrible asper:in,
this then newborn gent
lo' within zygote,

every generic ingredient
already harbored yours truly
characteristic weaknesses full extent
unbeknownst until DNA blooper rent
birthed, thence as I developed absent

pronounceable kinks vis a vis
trademark characteristics became present
evinced thru behavioral, emotional,
interpersonal, neurological aberrations

costing me (lake dude...) woebegone descent
wretchedness faux forfeiting every moment
only recent (think today)
entire existence misspent

oddly enough even compromising
ability to serve meant
two daughters, (especially eldest)
decry horrible life pent
up with rage against human machine

referring to paternal birth parent,
whose pathetic example rent
asunder psyches linked with offspring
hence, I best ought to have
joined a convent (ha).

Twas really only of late,
I realized fuller blown extent
house zing deplorable... state
absolute zero scholastic, tete a tete
opportunistic, generic, athletic...
*****sapien astride oblate
spheroid devoid of any
marketable skill doth resonate.

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