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ones and zeroes

by chacham (Curate)
on Jul 23, 2012 at 05:16 UTC ( #983107=poem: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??

Processors i heard, were just ones and zeros,
Well, being a nerd, i saluted my heroes,
It might sound absurd, but i live amongst weirdos,
I wanted to go see them all.

So, i went to the central, processing location,
I got there by bus, to this grand, central station,
I met all the locals, to much my elation,
I just had to take in it all.

All those zeroes and ones, that they thought were bits,
Were just having fun, and screaming in fits,
And oh, there were tons, all about wits,
I must explain you this all.

The zeroes were workers, hard men of dour,
The ones were the cool guys, with all of the power,
And yet they work well, with nothing gone sour,
Oh, the beauty of it all.

When instructions come in, they grok it each way,
With memory and bins, to go and to stay,
Everybody wins, come there what may,
It's not singular, but all.

They work there together, with no bit of strife,
They go out to Quarks, as if with their wife,
The up and the downs, strange charms in their life,
From top to the bottom, there's names for them all.

Electrons don't stray, they keep there eye on the prize,
And the protons do stay, despite their great size,
The neutrons decay, which gives all of them rise,
Harmony is the name of it all.

There's so much to do, mnemonics to know,
Which path leads where, when to come and to go,
Cycles and crunches, and all is just so,
It's overwhelming, to think of it all.

When they invented new math, my friend there confided,
Though usually one path, one time they were sided,
They unleashed there wrath, and the Pentium divided,
And F00F, there goes them all.

Operating systems, written by geniuses in groups,
The ticks and the jiffies, mainly global loops,
Timing is everything, to get all the troops,
And then to compile it all.

The tools that are run, together in strings,
All of the fun, doing all sorts of things,
When all is done, they are the kings,
So much irony in it all.

To say it's like an army, is a kernel of fact,
Each with their drivers, and message of tact,
Set to their devices, and all of them backed,
They can definitely rely on them all.

With my visit at end, i had to come back,
I keep all the memories (in a nice little stack),
All of it registered, (though the address was a hack),
I must go back to it all.

I bring my report, to enlighten the masses,
From a processor resort, my contacts, and glasses,
And this is my forte, do not object to the classes,
I hope you now know it all.

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