Tides That Swept Tor – Part I

In the year of Ninety Nine, there was a singer in the town of Tor,
Loud was his voice and clear his throat, he sung all night by the shore,
Over and over, almost forever, his ballads calmed the people and the sea,
Vile monsters that roamed far north, dared not come by Tor and be,
Else the melancholy strain their hearts and it be corroded away!
Per house in tor, in temple and church, fathers and mothers say,
Old Singer by the shore, respect him kids, for he’s the paladin unsung,
Entrenched in his shack, old as the southern mountains yet young,
Today his song, deep in its wisdom, and of ancient lore,
Reverberated the town of Tor; every boy, girl and adult wanted more!
Yet his pain, unknown and uncared, everyone knew not of ’em.

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.

Finding Paradise

In this tongue of lesser men, I beseech,
Days have weathered me, sedate and solemn,
In my dreams that I’ve begun to see,
My mind is confounded and confused.

What is right, and what isn’t,
Who is to be heard and who isn’t,
Where to go and where not to,
Whom to be with and whom without.

Earnestly I beg, hear me,
take me to a higher world,
to walk among gods, if there are any,
for this world isn’t where I am meant to be.

Is there a purpose, for me to be?
Is there a reason, for this, that I am?
Is there an answer, to who I am?
Is there something, that I need do?

I shall, walk this path, unburdened and free,
For I haven’t found an excuse to contravene,
Hear my words, oh traveler of time and thought,
Be true, and let paradise sink thy heart.

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.

Manduka!

Creeping up unto my brain, over my icy rigid veins,
Raging thoughts so bestial and foul, my heart is marred of black stains.
O free me from this pain, free me from this feral beast,
Or It’s sooner to the day this blight shan’t be of any, in the least!
Kind in deeds, in soul and shape, resting with Gods, I’ll say,
End is nigh, think right and true, or you won’t see another day.
Darkness, not light, greets you in death, if you’re just a Crooked ol’ man.

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?