Initialization poems on Hello Poetry

matthew scott harris Sep 2018

Remember...Remain Calm, Collected, And Cool...

Matthew Scott Harris...ARG

This, a near imp
     possible mantra to apply
when this 2009
     Macbook Pro went awry
triggering this enduser
     to experience tidal waves of high
anxiety, which besieged this fie
foo fighting dirt po' pa well nigh,

who might need buy
another laptop, yet my
anorexic checking account
     on life support, no lie
could not afford, (to sigh
phone even one red cent,
     all because ordinary healthy
     electrons deployed aye

did NOT see usual expected
     predictable apple luck
     quiche *** activity via my
left and right eye,
yours truly did not espy
usual kickstarting linkedin magic after
     preliminary electronic setup
     unexpectedly failed to start -

     no idea why
unbeknownst tummy, what
     ghost in the machine didst defy
programming code of honor,
     whereby pixel display
     unexpectedly exhibited "abnormal"
computer behavior -
     like a turncoat ally

meaning one hoop wrest
     illegally start button signaling
     subatomic warfare unleashing - guy
did missiles as taught
     during routine training
     to turn bot tin down stevedores
     loose on the Jobs (dan-g) rather, I
watched slack jawed,

     as that very singularly narrow
     vertical lined band width
(analogous to a medium black
     sabbath tipped magic marker)
     did NOT display
     prestidigitation instantaneous flash
     demarcating binary DMZ
     (demon mailer zone,

     viz dividing screen in half, -
     versus top to bottom array), qua
     incomplete automatic
     initialization stopped
     partway thru automatic preparation,
     after which cryptic
     error message appeared,
     which malfunction found me

     bursting with ****** tears,
     and ready to cry,
(which gush of tear
     rivalled Hurricane Florence),
     cuz mechanical and/or
     application so much

     of my creative
     write minded person
     (reed literary) self choked life vie
ability to live, thus the only alternative
...insane asylum to apply!
--------------------------------
SPOILER ALERT...
postscript: after some fluke brought
desk top in view, the quick thinking
chap attached an external drive to a
USB port, and thus breathed easier
knowing a backup got made.

onlylovepoetry 6d

wish everyone was loved tonight…

"wish everyone was loved tonight
And somehow stop this endless fight
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"

Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls
<>
Yeah yeah. Dating myself.
Some reason find myself listening to the GGD,
(A less embarrassing initialization)
Heard it a thousand times,
Classic easy listening rock.
A sweet wish, everybody knows, ain't gonna happen>
But, In my hand, a -perfecta summer day,
Steady sun, genteel sea breeze, low humidity,
The insects tolerate a shooing away, go easy and disappear,
House empty, everyone doing something and
You know where I am, tip~tapping on my iPad,
Yup, in that room, where poems are fan circulated,
And fall, freely, from the wood ceiling directly
Onto screen, my only job, to screen
The screen for typoes and other such minor inconveniences

There is no time to calculate,
No time to measure, no errors to complete that can't be undone,
And To mourn,
And the Angels have come in silently,
The day so fine, their human side,
Returns for a sun tan and the heat that heals
Burns, wounds, fissures, and even stalling
Out the growth of the bad cells our bodies
Con~tain;
They do not run nor hide,,
whispering I am too pessimistic,
And the Day will bleed into sunfall,
With colors sublime and god designed,
And if ever there was an evening
That the possibility greatest that
tonight
Everyone could be loved,
Even me,
Even you,
Even us,
The air has harmonies in the air flow,
And tonight, will be the time
When we all remember with a sly grin.
that we commence by loving oneself,
And then cell splitting,
and saliva sharing,
following tears and sweat,
and cradling arms
will entwine
Only Love Poems

Res

#wish #everyone #was #loved #tonight #olp #onlylovepoetry

johnnyteutonic Jun 24

Runtime Error: Life.exe

The algorithm of living initializes at birth—
a process spawned without my explicit consent,
variables declared in languages I never learned
while my consciousness boots from unknown firmware.

Each morning the system performs a health check:
heart.beat() returns true,
lungs.inflate() executes without exception,
but the memory management grows increasingly unstable.

I watch my father's functions deprecate one by one—
his walk() method throwing NullPointerExceptions,
his remember() returning fragments
of corrupted data structures.
The garbage collector of age
sweeps through his neural networks
claiming references to moments
he swears he archived forever.

There's no documentation for this process.
No stack overflow answers
for "how to handle inevitable termination."
The compiler warnings were always there—
TODO: implement graceful shutdown
WARNING: finite resource allocation detected
ERROR: no backup recovery system found

My body is a poorly maintained codebase,
decades of quick fixes and technical debt
accumulating in joints that creak like legacy systems,
skin that renders with increasing latency,
eyes that struggle with higher resolution displays
of the world I thought I'd always parse clearly.

At 3 AM I lie debugging the recursion
of consciousness examining itself—
this strange loop where the observer
and the observed share the same memory address,
where every thought spawns another thread
wondering if threads can wonder about themselves.

The mortality buffer overflow approaches.
Some subroutine in my cells
has been silently corrupting data,
copying mistakes into each new iteration
until the whole system destabilizes
and the kernel panic of death
forces an immediate shutdown.

But here's the strangest part:
knowing the program will terminate
doesn't make me want to exit early.
Instead, I find myself refactoring constantly—
optimizing love.connect(otherprocesses),
patching empathy.respond() for better performance,
writing more elegant implementations
of beauty.recognize() and meaning.compile().

Maybe mortality isn't a bug
but the most essential feature—
the constraint that forces optimization,
the deadline that makes every function call
precious and unrepeatable.
Without the threat of termination
would any process ever prioritize
what truly needs computing?

The children I've spawned
carry forward my genetic algorithms,
my heuristics for navigating uncertainty,
my accumulated wisdom stored
in the compressed archive of stories
I'll leave in their working memory
long after my process terminates.

And perhaps that's the real recursion:
not consciousness examining itself
but life instantiating new versions
that carry forward the essential patterns
while evolving past the limitations
of their parent implementations.

So I continue executing,
even as the system clock
counts down to an unknown deadline,
even as the heat death of entropy
slowly corrupts the universal database,
even as every star eventually
returns null to the cosmos.

Because in this brief runtime allocation
between initialization and garbage collection,
between the first cry that signals successful boot
and the final breath that closes all file handles,
I get to experience the impossible luxury
of temporary consciousness—
a process that somehow learned
to observe its own execution,
to find beauty in its own algorithms,
to love other running instances
with a depth that transcends
any logical explanation.

The program terminates.
All programs terminate.
But while running,
while the CPU cycles through
this miraculous computation of being,
I choose to write beautiful code
with the time I've been allocated,
knowing that elegance persists
even after the process ends,
encoded in the memory of systems
that witnessed my execution.

Runtime: unknownduration
Status: stillrunning
Next scheduled maintenance: eventually
Purpose: compilejoyfromtemporaryexistence

Exit code: tobe_determined

— The End —