Tag Archives: humour

Breakfast

Today I’ve arranged to breakfast with the sky
we haven’t been talking much lately and
so need some alone time together
in her lovely blue halls cushioned with fluffy cumuli
although blue is probably not her best colour
at breakfast, she’s more into yellow and rose.
Trouble is, she gets up so early and those of us who
don’t need to rise for work tend to sleep in….

I wonder if that’s why she’s been so distant to me?

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

APART-IAL EXPLANATION

Oh this is good… from Lou Faber

an old writer and his words

It is all to often debated
what sets humans apart
the other species, and that
will not be agreed any time soon
(which a cynic would note
is one such thing itself).

Freud would claim it is only
our ego, our sense of self,
which may explain why people
are so capable of being self-
ish, and I suspect he was
certain he was wholly correct
but I would give him only partial credit.

It is far simpler than that: record
your voice, record a Sandhill
crane and play them back
and I assure you that you
will say you sound nothing
like what the recorder heard
while the crane will nervously
look all around for his unseen kin.

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Friday Poem: Talking Turkeys

Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos’ turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don’t eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I’m on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it
An humans are out of dere mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
Dey all hav a right to a life,
Not to be caged up an genetically made up
By any farmer an his wife.

Turkeys just wanna play reggae
Turkeys just wanna hip-hop
Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying,
ÒI cannot wait for de chopÓ,
Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV,
Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain
In many ways like yu an me.

I once knew a turkey called…….. Turkey
He said “Benji explain to me please,
Who put de turkey in christmas
An what happens to christmas trees?”,
I said “I am not too sure turkey
But itÕs nothing to do wid Christ Mass
Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be
An business men mek loadsa cash’.

Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
Invite dem indoors fe sum greens
Let dem eat cake an let dem partake
In a plate of organic grown beans,
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
An spare dem de cut of de knife,
Join Turkeys United an dey’ll be delighted
An yu will mek new friends ‘FOR LIFE’.

 

Friday Poem: The Owl and the Pussy-cat

I
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
   In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
   Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
   And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
    What a beautiful Pussy you are,
         You are,
         You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”
II
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
   How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
   But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
   To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
   With a ring at the end of his nose,
             His nose,
             His nose,
   With a ring at the end of his nose.
III
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
   Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
   By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
   Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
   They danced by the light of the moon,
             The moon,
             The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

By Edward Lear

Friday Poem: Bloody Men

Bloody men are like bloody buses
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.
You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You’re trying to read the destinations,
You haven’t much time to decide.
If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you’ll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.

by Wendy Cope (a great living English poet!)

Friday Poem: Come On In, The Senility Is Fine

People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa,
But you don’t have to live forever to become a grampa.
The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild,
You only have to live until your child has a child.
From that point on you start looking both ways over your shoulder,
Because sometimes you feel thirty years younger and sometimes
thirty years older.
Now you begin to realize who it was that reached the height of
imbecility,
It was whoever said that grandparents have all the fun and none of
the responsibility.
This is the most enticing spiderwebs of a tarradiddle ever spun,
Because everybody would love to have a baby around who was no
responsibility and lots of fun,
But I can think of no one but a mooncalf or a gaby
Who would trust their own child to raise a baby.
So you have to personally superintend your grandchild from diapers
to pants and from bottle to spoon,
Because you know that your own child hasn’t sense enough to come
in out of a typhoon.
You don’t have to live forever to become a grampa, but if you do
want to live forever,
Don’t try to be clever;
If you wish to reach the end of the trail with an uncut throat,
Don’t go around saying Quote I don’t mind being a grampa but I
hate being married to a gramma Unquote.

A surprisingly long poem by the great Ogden Nash.

Poetry on the internet

Many of us share poetry on the internet, either our own or others. Did you know that there is an internet standard regarding poetry? I’ve included it below, although you may be somewhat suspicious once you spot the publication date. Please forgive me if its all Greek to you. I happen to speak this sort of thing!

This is a genuine RFC. But for some reason of other, it’s not, to my knowledge been used……

Note for the non geek: A Request for Comments (RFC) is a formal document from the Internet Engineering Task Force ( IETF ) that is the result of committee drafting and subsequent review by interested parties. Some RFCs are informational in nature. Of those that are intended to become Internet standards, the final version of the RFC becomes the standard and no further comments or changes are permitted. Change can occur, however, through subsequent RFCs that supersede or elaborate on all or parts of previous RFCs.

————————————————————————–

Network Working Group                                                              W. Shakespeare
Request for Comments: 1605                                                     Globe Communications
Category: Informational                                                              1 April 1994

SONET to Sonnet Translation

Status of this Memo

This memo provides information for the Internet community. This memo
does not specify an Internet standard of any kind. Distribution of
this memo is unlimited.

Abstract

Because Synchronous Optical Network (SONET) transmits data in frames
of bytes, it is fairly easy to envision ways to compress SONET frames
to yield higher bandwidth over a given fiber optic link. This memo
describes a particular method, SONET Over Novel English Translation
(SONNET).

Protocol Overview

In brief, SONNET is a method for compressing 810-byte (9 lines by 90
bytes) SONET OC-1 frames into approximately 400-byte (fourteen line
decasyllabic) English sonnets. This compression scheme yields a
roughly 50% average compression, and thus SONNET compression speeds
are designated OCh-#, where ‘h’ indicates 50% (one half) compression
and the # is the speed of the uncompressed link. The acronym is
pronounced “owch.”

Mapping of the 2**704 possible SONET payloads is achieved by matching
each possible payload pattern with its equivalent Cerf catalog number
(see [1], which lists a vast number of sonnets in English, many of
which are truly terrible but suffice for the purposes of this memo).

Basic Transmission Rules

The basic transmission rules are quite simple. The basic SONET OC-1
frame is replaced with the corresponding sonnet at the transmission
end converted back from the sonnet to SONET at the receiving end.
Thus, for example, SONET frame 12 is transmitted as:

When do I count the clock that tells the time
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls,…

For rates higher than OC-1, the OC-1 frames may either come
interleaved or concatenated into larger frames. Under SONNET
conversion rules, interleaved frames have their corresponding sonnet
representations interleaved. Thus SONET frames 33, 29 and 138 in an
OC-3 frame would be converted to the sequence:

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
When my loves swears that she is made of truth
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
I do believe her, though I know she lies
Kissing with golden face…

while in an OC-3c frame, the individual OC-1 frames concatenated, one
after another, viz.:

Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-
tops with sovereign eye Kissing with golden face…

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone
beweep my outcast state,…

When my loves swears that she is made of truth I do believe her,
though I know she lies…

(This example, perhaps, makes clear why data communications experts
consider concatenated SONET more efficient and esthetically
pleasing).

Timing Issues

It is critical in this translation scheme to maintain consistent
timing within a frame. If SONET frames or converted sonnets shift in
time, the SONET pointers, or worse, poetic meter, may suffer.

References

[1] Cerf, B., “A Catalog of All Published English Sonnets to 1950”,
Random House, 1953. (Now out of print.)

Security Considerations

Security issues are not discussed in this memo.

Author’s Address

William Shakespeare
Globe Communications
London, United Kingdom

Any suggestions that this, or any other work by this author, might
be the work of a third party such as C. Marlow, R. Bacon, or
C. Partridge or based on a previously developed theme by
P.V. Mockapetris are completely spurious.