Most of these haiku, collected from the web, reflect the early days of computers:
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Windows crashed.
I am the Blue Screen of Death.
No one hears your screams.
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A file that big?
It might be very useful.
But now it is gone.
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Server’s poor response
Not quick enough for browser.
Timed out, plum blossom.
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Successful search —
Eight hundred thousand pages.
Here are the first ten.
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wind catches lily
scatt’ring petals to the wind:
segmentation fault
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First snow, then silence.
This thousand dollar screen dies
so beautifully.
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With searching comes loss
and the presence of absence:
“My Novel” not found.
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The Tao that is seen
Is not the true Tao, until
You bring fresh toner.
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A crash reduces
your expensive computer
to a simple stone.
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You step in the stream,
but the water has moved on.
This page is not here.
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Out of memory.
We wish to hold the whole sky,
But we never will.
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The ten thousand things
How long do any persist?
Netscape, too, has gone.
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