Homer’s (the blind man’s) poetry as seen by helmut s.
Vacationing along the stretch
of sandy beach
in view of the walls
of a town world-famous as Troy,
the godlike Achilles questions King Agamemnon:
“Why would any Argonaut soldier
want to obey your orders,
why would one want freely and gladly
do your sailing,
why would one want to fight your enemies?”
Achilles has no gripe
with the Trojan soldiers.
Achilles knows they never stole
his cattle or his horses
as he is looking at
the endless miles that he traveled,
through stormy seas, controlled by Poseidon.
He and the men who follow him,
try to please Agamemnon,
they fight for him the King
to win his honor back from them Trojans.
Yet now Achilles is angry
as Agamemnon threatened to strip
him of his prize — the girl he had fought for
long and hard, the one the sons
of Achaea had handed to him.
And Achilles knows his time is limited
therefore he just like all mortals
craves pleasures now
and not in future time.
He knows unlimited futures on earth
are available only to the gods who
prescribe to such an On-Line-Service,
which he does not.
So anger is festering within
wanting instant gratification.
True, somebody kicked
his foot the wrong way, it’s not the heel
which hurts the most…
…but further up it does.
(Goddess of wisdom, which the Greek did not have)
…countless hours passed of diligent input
I only said “save as” in Computerese
“please save all my precious workbook’s data!”
Facing a prime example of processing
amidst a happy joyous attitude,
I needed just this one hardcopy output.
My basic level in Computerese
nothing but a tiny caesarean of data
with little or no value of processing.
Such was at her amplitude of attitude
while resorting to shutting down output
without asking me for further input.
The Clone, vessel to my precious data,
of my wisdom, stopped now processing.
Even the back up files showed attitude
So I clicked on File, on Close, no output.
I clicked again on File, on Close, to input
some commands to her in Computerese.
She, my PC, Sophia answered — processing
my triple-clicking with a certain attitude —
displaying on screen a softcopy output,
…after all these my hours of input,
communicated in Computerese
stone-cold: STACK DROP! ERROR IN DATA.
“Divorce!” I screamed in pain with attitude
FALSE APPLICATION I QUIT! Her output
responds to more not less hostile input.
Adding FATAL ERROR in Computerese
and following was CORRUPTED DATA.
I was reaching my high in processing.
And coping an amplitude of attitude
I was! She had the proof and data.
Thanks to weeks of meticulous input!
0-: 7:07 a.m.
starting the day…
…grumpy he rolled, swinging one leg first
out of bed, into this pretty day.
He had worked late. A dry mouth’s thirst
much longing for brewed coffee. Just like play
he flicked, sleeping Sophia’s On-switch.
Annoyed he viewed, coffee sipping
his challenge, a spreadsheet, what a bitch.
Sophia, was up waiting, silently ticking,
He got nothing beyond the black screen,
despite flipping the workstation On & Off, until
a C: (see-colon) sent by deus-de-machina, was seen
as a guiding prompt to Windows and past the sill.
So he thought. Such he expected from her, his
higher-powered goddess. “Now what?” did he ask,
feverishly searching WIN’s directory’s tree. This
displaying of DOS’s dir turned into a giant task
what Sophia took some years ago, the basic
gw-programming language, he once had
thought gone, reappeared from nowhere, crazy
as subdir winwg, much like a cat
having nine lives deltree-winwg still existed.
How wrong, that he thought he had razed it.
As we man the ships, the vessels in the oceans
of life, here and there gathering to attack
a solid task, going ashore to befriend or
fight whomever we meet and communicate
by tongue or force.