On this page you will find a few poems I've written. Some are serious, but more are lighthearted or humorous.
I'm not very experienced at writing poetry, so I'm not promising anything
of quality here :)
If you're looking for any poetry worthy of literary praise, try these
links instead:
The city lights diminish one by one.
In bed, my mind slows down, my eyelids fall.
Just one last thought about what must be done
to send this week's installment out to all.
Awoken by the sun's warmth on my face,
I'm in a field, a distant buzz I hear.
While wond'ring if I've ever seen this place,
a hummingbird before me does appear.
She speaks, “You're not alone, your loss is ours”
Behind her, sparrows, doves, and hundreds more.
“But o'er his words, our hearts, death has no powers.”
The birds all nod, then through the blue sky soar.
A beep: the landscape quickly fades away.
A beep beep beep begins another day.
S2 - Final ride
The breeze upon my skin and beads of sweat
do cool me from the California sun.
While cycling, feels I've nothing left to fret.
The world is gone; my bike and I are one.
A sudden blow. What's happened? Fade to black.
But fade back in, a strange surreal glow.
The EMTs attempt to bring me back.
From six feet up, I view the scene below.
A brighter light than LA's sun in June
diverts attention from the panicked scene.
The voices dwindle, whisp'ring “it's too soon”.
This light is overwhelmingly serene.
One final glance toward the world I knew
before a new adventure I pursue.
S3 - No bise please
My outstretched arm seems obvious to me.
That, coupled with my movement two steps back.
You'd think a handshake's all that there would be,
But no! My cheeks, they each receive a muack.
I cough, I sneeze, a bit of phlegm I spew.
In hopes their fear of sickness will prevail.
But no! “I'm not afraid of kissing you.”
My kleenex filled with snot to no avail.
“Where I'm from, hell, you mustn't let us down.
A double double kiss is how we bise.”
“Hey, fact alert: this ain't your crappy town.
Where I'm from, so you know, it's NONE. So, please.”
Bisoutologue, have you advice for me?
A Yankee who hates bisous, in Paris.
S4 - Meta work
Continuous improvement is the trend.
Stability's a notion to rescind.
Employees never cease to recommend
best practices inspired by the wind.
A state of constant reevaluation,
incessant chats of what we should change next,
attempts to finish tasks cut by frustration
and never-ending meetings have me vexed.
Our burn down chart has but a gentle slope.
The backlog though, is growing without bound.
More bodies will absorb the work they hope,
but “how to scale” discussions now abound.
Debates on how to work consume our days,
which doesn't help with our release delays.
S5 - Fate's Spectator
I’ve been deprived of peaceful sleep once more.
Alarming visions permeate my dreams.
And even in the day I hear the score,
reverberating eerily your screams.
Your delicate caresses do abate
the disconcerting jitter of my thought.
But fleeting comfort fades under the weight
of this foreboding. What will be your lot?
A spectator to fate I shall not be.
Another early grave I will refuse.
But I have yet to find salvation's key.
To guide me, this new mentor shall I choose.
If in my quest to save you should I fall,
Remember, it was love behind it all.
S6 - Abandoned together
Through desolate surroundings do I roam.
My old companion's left me for a while.
I've hope he'll soon return to take me home,
and brighten up my spirit with his smile.
Now you! Out of the void you have appeared.
Your eyes impart a similar lament,
of endless sunsets having persevered
the loneliness of your abandonment.
Together, shall we join in our pursuits?
Your solitary nature hesitates.
Please, let's unite in searching for our roots.
Your pain, my company attenuates.
With softening reluctance, you then say
"Fine, come with me, but only for today."
S7 - The confession
Although I've made a solemn choice to leave
this history of darkness far behind,
concealing who I am brings not reprieve,
and cowardly omissions have you blind.
When first I saw acceptance in your eyes,
believing me to be a decent man,
I knew that your respect was based on lies.
I must end this deception, if I can.
But circumstances hinder each attempt
to finally divulge this hidden past.
Distractions seem to endlessly preempt
my courage, and my time is fading fast.
So, stop! And listen now to what I say,
or else you'll learn the truth some other way.
S8 - The child
When we first met, a juvenile you were.
A prodigy before us, we beheld.
That you would change the world, we did concur,
but on the judgment of your fate, we dwelled.
About you, apprehensions did abound.
The others feared instability.
Despite your age, attachments so profound
they sensed and felt you'd lack humility.
But I insisted that I take you in.
My confidence in you would not be shaken.
And thus they did allow us to begin
our journey, praying I'd not been mistaken.
What would have happened, then, if I had heeded
the warnings and advice that they had pleaded?
S9 - The Hexahedron
Remember when you saw me as a riddle?
Impossible to solve, yet entertaining.
Intrigued for a few minutes, you would fiddle,
then change my stickers, winning but by feigning.
Eventually some manuals you found.
With inefficient steps in combination,
diminishing my power to confound,
they helped you find my base configuration.
The challenge now is memory retention
of patterns and associated movements.
A race against the clock has your attention,
and you've a log to chronicle improvements.
In all your eagerness, keep this in mind:
please treat me gently, so I stay aligned.
Limericks
L1
Misses Carmen, she came from L.A.
And in Paris her home made to stay.
She adored the croissants
And the sexy accents
But the bises just scared her away.
L2
Carmen bosse sur le code de Libon
et la lib de la boîte Belledonne.
Ils comprennent tous une chose :
faire la bise, même une dose,
et elle part en courant vers Bayonne.
L3
There once was this Yankee called Carmen,
whose manners were somewhat alarmin'.
She was a bit jaded,
all bisous evaded.
“Just handshakes for me!” Not too charmin'.
L4
Dame Carmen elle aime pas faire la bise.
Tu l'obliges et elle entre en mode crise :
“Une poignée de main,
ça ne mange pas de pain.
Si tu fais un bécot je balise”.
L5
Mister bouborgz who grew up in Trappes
Was in search of ideas for apps.
Inspiration he lacked
So he'd overreact,
Saying "kill me now, let me collapse."
L6
FN Two-One-Eight-Seven is Finn,
who decided to never give in
to the orders of Snoke.
Not that Finn's a good bloke:
he just knew the resistance would win.
L7
Little Yoda, to Dagobah, sped.
From Lord Sidious' empire he fled,
until Obi-Wan's spook
sent his padawan, Luke.
Then a jedi in training he led.
L8
An escape pod toward Tatooine
houses robots who mustn't be seen.
They have plans of the star
that brings death from afar.
On their mission our destinies lean.
L9
RxJava is not for the meek
or the simple imperative geek.
Those Observables fill
your whole codebase until
your development life becomes bleak.
L10
Miss Carmen, a dev with a swagger,
was sometimes a bit of a bragger,
but started to stammer
and lost all her glamor,
when trying to learn about Dagger.
L11
"Mother fucker, just program!" he said,
and a new revolution he led
against buzzwords galore
that we coders abhor
and the overkill meetings we dread.
http://programming-motherfucker.com
L12
On a Floréal septidi morn,
many sunsets ago, were you born.
Shall I wish you the best,
or cry "geezer!" in jest?
A conundrum that has my mind torn.
L13
There once was an agent called Mulder,
of baffling scenes a beholder.
In spite of Ms. Scully,
his name they did sully,
and now he e'er looks o'er his shoulder.
L14
Mr Boubar who sat on the couch
kept on mumbling on like some grouch.
When he lost at a game,
cried "my god I'm so lame!"
then despondently slumped to a slouch.
L15
After hours of blood, sweat and tears,
I believe that the finish line nears.
I can write a few lines
of some meaningless rhymes
only worthy of mocking and sneers.
L16
Now the cool kids are using compose,
but I hear that it actually blows.
Basic stuff isn't there.
You must all tout refaire.
But I guess it's the future. Who knows?
Others
Birthday
'Twas today I felt your absence like I hadn't felt before.
On this day you'd always call or send an e-mail, but no more.
I have all the birthday wishes that you sent the last ten years.
As I go through through them today, I feel my eyes fill up with tears.
But I'm glad I have this record. It's stored safely in the cloud.
In your mails you said you missed me, wished the best, said you were proud.
Not just birthday wishes: other mails, from funny to mundane.
It's the history of our communication they contain.
As my eyes browse all the characters you once typed out to me,
I can almost hear your voice, or see you typing every key.
So I thank you for these messages, composed in years past.
Etched in zeros and in ones, they'll be a memory to last.