The Raving
Once upon a morning dreary, while I plodded, weak and weary,
to my desktop, where I’d often been before.
Sighing I began a tapping, tapping, tapping, grimly rapping
On the keyboard’s shiny plastic core.
And again, the screen a lighted, telling me I was invited
to explore enchanted realms delighted,
browsing through the web’s vast varied store.
Every website, none ignoring, some adoring some abhorring, till at last I
might consider--after this last look at Twitter,
to do the work, I should have turned in weeks before.
Just one password matching what I have in store,
only this, and nothing more.
All at once, my stomach churning, and my mind with fever burning
to recall the password yearning to return through memory’s mystic door.
KumQuatLover!
BrightCognition?
But alas no recognition, of that clever password, used before,
Perhaps there was an underscore?
Just one hint and nothing more.
Pretending to comply, it gave me, the dread question that would save me,
if I answered it correctly as before.
Name your place of birth it teased me, smirking as though this were easy
to remember what I’d entered once before.
Is it state, or just the city? Space, or no? There is no pity, from the squarish monster sitting, sitting, on my desk while I look for….
That piece of paper, where I’d written, that dumb password that would fit-in
the nagging space that I could not ignore.
While I searched, I then reflected, on my forefathers,
not connected to a website undetected
Free of passwords to restore.
They had pens. And nothing more.
A slip of paper! I behold it! With trembling fingers, I unfold it
FluFFySnokerkinsIwuvYou2!
In disbelief I sat there blinking. What on earth had I been thinking?
Why, that embarrassing phrase doesn’t even scan.
As that stupid phrase I stuttered. “This lousy bleeping bleep,”
were words I muttered.
But a simple prayer of thanks I uttered,
As I sought the website to restore.
At last, I’m in! Now to my work in quantities galore.
But I sat with conscience pricking, looking at the work I should be sticking, in my outbox, sadly empty as it was the night before.
Could I make my paltry labors look like more?
Perhaps with some exaggeration, I might save the situation?
Wait! I’d forgot, my boss was on vacation!
Far away in Singapore, she’d not come knocking at my virtual door,
I could postpone my work, that endless, boring chore.
With shouts of glee, I found the online store!
After all, I’d do work later. My boss would not think me a traitor--
to wait till motivation would be greater,
as it would be after shopping at the store.
Besides she’d never know, far away in Singapore,
where waves were lapping, lapping, lapping on the shore.
I’d just buy this, and nothing more.
Password? Sure. I quickly entered, thinking of my purchase centered, on my mantel in the place that I’d made for…
What? My password’s incorrect? It tells me.
Just a typo, that’s all surely,
I’ll retype more slowly than before. Shortly, I’ll be looking at the store!
Password’s incorrect.
In years to come you’ll find me sitting
At my desk with headache splitting,
often hitting, hitting, hitting,
my brains against the nearby wall of stone.
I think deep down I’ve always known,
Hell’s not a lake of fire and brimstone.
It’s this wretched box Bill Gates condoned
To chain my soul forever to this chair alone.
And the error message never leaving
Mocks my lonely soul bereaving
The horrors the next download has in store.
There's only errors, nothing more.
And I will leave here, nevermore.
to my desktop, where I’d often been before.
Sighing I began a tapping, tapping, tapping, grimly rapping
On the keyboard’s shiny plastic core.
And again, the screen a lighted, telling me I was invited
to explore enchanted realms delighted,
browsing through the web’s vast varied store.
Every website, none ignoring, some adoring some abhorring, till at last I
might consider--after this last look at Twitter,
to do the work, I should have turned in weeks before.
Just one password matching what I have in store,
only this, and nothing more.
All at once, my stomach churning, and my mind with fever burning
to recall the password yearning to return through memory’s mystic door.
KumQuatLover!
BrightCognition?
But alas no recognition, of that clever password, used before,
Perhaps there was an underscore?
Just one hint and nothing more.
Pretending to comply, it gave me, the dread question that would save me,
if I answered it correctly as before.
Name your place of birth it teased me, smirking as though this were easy
to remember what I’d entered once before.
Is it state, or just the city? Space, or no? There is no pity, from the squarish monster sitting, sitting, on my desk while I look for….
That piece of paper, where I’d written, that dumb password that would fit-in
the nagging space that I could not ignore.
While I searched, I then reflected, on my forefathers,
not connected to a website undetected
Free of passwords to restore.
They had pens. And nothing more.
A slip of paper! I behold it! With trembling fingers, I unfold it
FluFFySnokerkinsIwuvYou2!
In disbelief I sat there blinking. What on earth had I been thinking?
Why, that embarrassing phrase doesn’t even scan.
As that stupid phrase I stuttered. “This lousy bleeping bleep,”
were words I muttered.
But a simple prayer of thanks I uttered,
As I sought the website to restore.
At last, I’m in! Now to my work in quantities galore.
But I sat with conscience pricking, looking at the work I should be sticking, in my outbox, sadly empty as it was the night before.
Could I make my paltry labors look like more?
Perhaps with some exaggeration, I might save the situation?
Wait! I’d forgot, my boss was on vacation!
Far away in Singapore, she’d not come knocking at my virtual door,
I could postpone my work, that endless, boring chore.
With shouts of glee, I found the online store!
After all, I’d do work later. My boss would not think me a traitor--
to wait till motivation would be greater,
as it would be after shopping at the store.
Besides she’d never know, far away in Singapore,
where waves were lapping, lapping, lapping on the shore.
I’d just buy this, and nothing more.
Password? Sure. I quickly entered, thinking of my purchase centered, on my mantel in the place that I’d made for…
What? My password’s incorrect? It tells me.
Just a typo, that’s all surely,
I’ll retype more slowly than before. Shortly, I’ll be looking at the store!
Password’s incorrect.
In years to come you’ll find me sitting
At my desk with headache splitting,
often hitting, hitting, hitting,
my brains against the nearby wall of stone.
I think deep down I’ve always known,
Hell’s not a lake of fire and brimstone.
It’s this wretched box Bill Gates condoned
To chain my soul forever to this chair alone.
And the error message never leaving
Mocks my lonely soul bereaving
The horrors the next download has in store.
There's only errors, nothing more.
And I will leave here, nevermore.