Originally Posted by archiver:
“Musings while trying to code web pages recently:
Redo from start.
I know too much already,
now my head is getting heavy
and my little pinkies aren't very well.
CSS is cool,
but I'm too much old school
to learn to do HTML.
It's the same with C++.
I got BASIC just
when object oriented came out.
I could do some assembler,
but I never remember
what classes and pointers are about.
Give me firewall configs
and name server digs
and I apt-get along real fine.
But cascading style?
I just run a mile.
Too many ways to align.
© archiver.
And; while being undecided:
I'm free.
You know; to be or not to be, can sometimes be - the sanity of quiet free.
Or merge the cold and shiny words, as told to me by men and birds.
For now, fear I no smiley tap. No vengeful strap may sheer my nap.
For style and famous doth corrupt. Who knows what mad men may obstruct
this freedom to be quite unknown. Can't catch me - I'm all alone.
Or © my name and my number? Would I really write hereunder
all the things I'd want to say, if you could come and break my day?
No then. Well fank frank for that. Perhaps I'll buy a pussy cat.
You'll never know the real me. Hallelujah! I am free.
© archiver.”
“Musings while trying to code web pages recently:
Redo from start.
I know too much already,
now my head is getting heavy
and my little pinkies aren't very well.
CSS is cool,
but I'm too much old school
to learn to do HTML.
It's the same with C++.
I got BASIC just
when object oriented came out.
I could do some assembler,
but I never remember
what classes and pointers are about.
Give me firewall configs
and name server digs
and I apt-get along real fine.
But cascading style?
I just run a mile.
Too many ways to align.
© archiver.
And; while being undecided:
I'm free.
You know; to be or not to be, can sometimes be - the sanity of quiet free.
Or merge the cold and shiny words, as told to me by men and birds.
For now, fear I no smiley tap. No vengeful strap may sheer my nap.
For style and famous doth corrupt. Who knows what mad men may obstruct
this freedom to be quite unknown. Can't catch me - I'm all alone.
Or © my name and my number? Would I really write hereunder
all the things I'd want to say, if you could come and break my day?
No then. Well fank frank for that. Perhaps I'll buy a pussy cat.
You'll never know the real me. Hallelujah! I am free.
© archiver.”
This thread is a continuation of: Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 2)




It's a pity One Sky got left behind on the other thread 
