The Song of the Raging Sea

Only the tumult of a raging sea,
rocking our boats to places it needn’t be,
who dares whisper a few good words and conciliate?
For mighty is her resolve, and feeble her invaders.

I

Beating against our aged wooden hulls,
her stories she forces us listen,
of conquerors who’ve tried quelling her ire
and soldiers who wished not to partake.
Songs of past surface under the raging storm,
as she cries louder into the setting sun,
and our vessels are but dumb dots,
lost in a mighty gale, drifting away with no desire.
The heavens gather, to listen to her fables,
that which needs be told to every sailor passing.
She sings, in a majestic low soprano,
that the men have made merry in her midst,
carrying goods of war and crime,
that her song is the only redemption, she roars
in a frightening contralto.

II

The old few those who’ve listened with care,
warned us of her ire before we sailed away.
Like seasons weathering old rocks to dust, their lore,
distant and washed away,
little did the forgotten wisdom give us hand,
our wet faces, now bereft of any realization,
piecing the parts only to fail.
In the frantic cadence of her waves,
in her wild cosmic dance,
in the fearful tremors of her ballad,
we solemnly pray for the tale to twist our way,
to the young and true, she’ll say,
listen again, listen again!
That your understanding of this divine tale,
of man and his destiny shall see the light of day.

III

In a desperate bid for a final confluence,
we merged a raft from parts of the now wrecked hull.
She is the canvas for our dreams,
in her we float free like in our mothers’ wombs,
her story too ambitious to comprehend, we let go,
and like a violin soundtrack to God’s elegy,
her rage turns to deep sorrow.
The last voice of this universe,
like the distant hymns of a hindu sage,
she sings the song of the raging sea.

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Love, Conquer, Bliss

Light, reason, we see those times,
Over ends as reached, through means unknown,
Vile men conquer on as we honest forlorn,
Ever be joy, bliss, you solitary soul.

Long nights stay, and lovers separate,
Of these pitiful days you say not,
Veer thy mind and body, veer to the good, veer!
Ever be joy, bliss, you solitary soul.

Lost in time, lost among doers bad,
Out you come, rise, rise above this broken land,
Vast lands await unseen, conquer, be vile!
Ever be joy, bliss, you solitary soul.

A Cataclysmic Candor Of A Possibly Broken Kind

The system, I have not broken.
The system, I haven’t understood.
It is in this system that I live in, parts and full.
And to this system that I say, oh you crooked beast!

What is this system you ask?
What of it, and what within?
Who makes it, who breaks it, when and why?
Yes, to this bloody system I say, oh you bestial beast!

In its path, it preys on relentless,
Ferocious and Unforgiving it relishes the weak,
A curse unfolding and forever, it is but a monstrous menace.
And to you, my dear filthy love I say, oh you malignant beast!

In its candor I see chaos.
In its candor I see peace.
Of those who have transcended this system, come set me free.
Yes, my love, my life, my religion, my kind, oh you filthy beast!

Who am I, and who am I really to say,
To hearsay lore and hitherto unknown,
You bag of banal bore and yet unfathomably occult,
To your days and seasons I say, oh you cabalistic beast!

Are you broken? Are you madness? Are you the answer?
Are you freedom? Are you reason? Are you the way?
Are you my ride to a heavenly abode of joy, are you?
Let me in on your secrets, oh you deific beast!

This is your system, your way of life,
In your religion, In your devilry, let me see light,
Hellish paths can be conquered but for your say,
Let me in, oh you! You magnificent beast!

Your praise I’ll sing, Your word I’ll spread,
Your darkness I’ll let linger and light pervade,
You are God, you are wisdom,
I will be your servant, oh you opulent beast!

I will live, I will die, I will pass unknown,
I will see, I will tell, I will pass unheard.
I will be joy, I will be sadness, I will pass undone.
You and I, and this system, we’re the beasts of life unsung.

Mellow

A light, vivacious in its bearing, illuminates what I see,
Softness pervades my mind, and I’m set free!
To ends, I shall go, but means, I will honor and fear,
Over mountains, and rivers, I shall relish this freedom and shed a tear.
Urge to discover, to see and to live,
Nourishing this child of mine, my dream, to believe,
Day and night and far and wide, I shall spread the joy of peace,
In this light that I see, a bliss, come share it with me.
Never let’s quarrel, my kin, my kind,
Go be mellow, and a peace you will find.

Child’s Play!

This play of mine, mega sized to be,
in a world that’s not so far as believed,
but to reach there tonight you should
not have any troubles, that’s troubling.

Love, fun and freedom, these words that are now
rhyming in your heart and actions, you should be.
stars and stars up above, so pretty and bright they’re,
feels so light, I’ll fly and reach up and play with ’em all.

Come come one n all, free this play will be,
See me in play, laugh, clap and cry with me.
On this bright, beautiful star-struck evening.
Oh let’s unite tonight against all that’s bad, and forever be free.

Algorhythm

With O of N in mind, I started right,
To see the code, was no ordinary sight!
Write I did, and compiled it too,
Error it said, Oh now I have no clue.

So now I used more time and space,
N squared it became, and I did a stack trace.
Debug and Recompile, now well and done,
Oh this is sure going to be fun.

In GNU/Linux I believed, and execution began
Oh you should have seen how the code ran!
The system sung the song I wrote,
Its beauty and brilliance, I will not gloat.

_____________________________________________________

I wrote this in today’s Data Warehousing and Mining theory class.

Was sure a sleepy day. 🙂

I lead a fun life, don’t I?

The stupidity of Mr. Mangam

In those universes where they lived,
where time and space weren’t a thing,
Mr. Mangam was the supreme being,
A God full of awe and power to the lowly mortals.

These mortals never aged, no they didn’t,
because poor Mr. Mangam forgot to create time!
Without time how will they ever live and die?
Oh this is all very bad indeed.

So Mr. Mangam, now erred ofcourse,
believed in spirit and soul and for death he thought,
He thought and thought and did, for ways in which he’d kill,
kill those mortals, because they were called just so.

Funny that but, Mortals do not die now?
Oh Mr. Mangam, you are indeed Mr. Stupidity now.
Comical it may seem, there were dire consequences
Fathers and sons fought, and fought, and fought.

Brothers and sisters forgot that they were, and Mothers,
no longer remembered their own sons,
But wait a minute Mr Mangam said,
how can mortals who don’t die forget the past when there’s no time?

Bugged by his creation, Mr. Mangam did decide,
to beyond he’ll travel and consult the all-knowing,
the all-knowing was the supreme creature,
for it was the one earthlings label as the creator of the cosmos.

Who is he? Where is he? What is he?
These spiraled in Mr. Mangam’s thinking organ.
But unfortunately for him, he didn’t have one.
The illusion of thinking without thinking, is a rare art indeed.

So Mr. Mangam does find out about the all-knowing,
And he travels to Heavens that are beyond the known universe,
where his sources say, lie Mr. Supreme Creator of Cosmos dude,
In a deep meditation, so deep that the mind is one with the body.

But Mr. Mangam had to travel through and through forever
and ever forever, because from where he came, time was, remember?
Space wasn’t a thing too, right? Er, what?
Confusing it may seem, there is stark simplicity about this, hear.

Travel through space, takes time correct?
Travel through time, takes space correct?
But how does Mr. Mangam travel to the heavens?
Truth isn’t the truth anymore, not that it is now, but is it?

Aha, and Aha! Said Mr. Mangam,
“You mortal who doesn’t die, will never know this trickery of space-time.
Because when I created these universes without space-time, I didn’t really.”

Did Mr. Mangam really create such a universe?
Did he really come to meet whom we call God to correct his errors?
We will never know for sure, will we?