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If you can use a Web browser, you can use Skype.

quote by Niklas Zennstrom
Added by Lucian Velea
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Spin, Spin

So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and Im caught again!
In the web of wild design,
I do not know what fate is mine!
All the day sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
And my daddy said when I was young,
Beware the web of love, my son,
To be in love is to be insane,
Make an old man groan, a young man pain!
All the day, sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
Then I did go and the time did fly,
Many a true love passed me by.
And then you came like a blinding storm,
I landed in your web so warm,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and Im caught again!
In the web of wild desire,
And I cannot control the fire!
All the day sit and spin,
You spin your web and you draw me in.

song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Spin, Spin (New York Remake Version)

So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and I'm caught again!
In the web of wild design,
I do not know what fate is mine!
All the day sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
And my daddy said when I was young,
"Beware the web of love, my son,
To be in love is to be insane,
Make an old man groan, a young man pain!"
All the day, sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
Then I did go and the time did fly,
Many a true love passed me by.
And then you came like a blinding storm,
I landed in your web so warm,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and I'm caught again!
In the web of wild desire,
And I cannot control the fire!
All the day sit and spin,
You spin your web and you draw me in.

song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gates Of Tomorrow

Weaving a thread round your heart and your soul
Deceiving your eyes and delaying your goal
Ships in the night when they pass out of sight
Deliver their cargo of earthly delights
To the women and the children the souls of the dead
I've opened their book and no mercy is shed
You want forgiveness and you want it cheap
I don't give redemption rewards for the meek
Suffering evil when you pay the price of fame
There isn't a god to save you if you don't save yourself
You can't blame a madman if you go insane
Give me the strength so I carry on
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web no mercy is shed
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web slaves to the dead
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Suffering evil when you pay the price of fame
There isn't a god to save you if you don't save yourself
You can't blame a madman if you go insane
Give me the strength so I carry on
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web no mercy is shed
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web slaves to the dead
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow

song performed by Iron Maiden
Added by Lucian Velea
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What we now call the browser is whatever defines the web. What fits in the browser is the World Wide Web and a number of trivial standards to handle that so that the content comes.

quote by Ted Nelson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Life and Happiness

Happiness in life each year now,
Takes brute strength, like pushing a cow,
Pray do not ask how,

The spider spins an intricate web around life,
A magic web now is around life
Happiness is what we make it,
Life can be better than music, if we let it,

Music can fill the air with life and happiness,
There is music in life and happiness, if we let it happen,
Everyday sounds around that intricate web of life,
Protected by that magic web,

Happiness in life each year now,
Takes brute strength, like pushing a cow,
Pray do not ask how,

Take brute strength, like pushing a cow,
That intricate web around life, is magic,
Life can be enjoyed, create happiness around you,
Music can fill the air with life and happiness,

Life takes brute strength, as you imagine,
A hidden strength,
Work at life and happiness, each day, each year,
Let that spider who spins an intricate web around life,
Now a magic web, create life and happiness.

poem by Batibchar Mocculta
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Web

(derek disck/steve rothery/ pete trewavas/ micheal pointer/mark kelly/brian jellyman)
The rain auditions at my window
Its symphony echoes in my womb
My gaze scans the walls of this apartment
To rectify the confines of my tomb
Im the cyclops in the tenement
Im the soul without the cause
Crying midst my rubber plants, ignoring beckoning doors
Clippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floor
Stained by the wine from a shattered glass
Meaningless words
Yellowed by time
Faded photos exposing pain
Celluloid leeches bleeding my mind
Christ, youve finished playing hangman
Youve cast the fateful dice
Advice, advice, advice me, this shroud will not suffice
And thus begins the web
Attempting to discard these clinging memories
I only serve to wallow in our past
I fabricate the weave with my excuses
Its strands I hope and pray shall last
Oh please do last
Oh please do last
The flytrap needs the insects
Ivy caresses the wall
Needles make love to the junkies
The sirens seduce with their call
Confidence has deserted me, with you it has forsaken me
Confused and rejected, despised and alone, I kiss isolation on its fevered brow
Security clutching me
Obscurity threatening me
Christ, your reasons were so obvious as my friends have qualified
I only laughed away your tears, but even jesters cry
But even jesters cry
I realise I hold the key to freedom
Oh I cannot let my life be ruled by threads
The time has come to make decisions
The changes have to be made
I realise I hold the key to freedom
I cannot let my life be ruled by threads
The time has come to make decisions
The changes have to be made
Now I leave you
The past does have its say
Youre all but forgotten
A mote in my heart
Decisions have been made
Theyve been made
Decisions have been made

[...] Read more

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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ODE TO A SUPERHERO

Parody of "Piano Man" by Billy Joel
Poor Peter Parker was pitiful
Couldn't have been any shyer
Mary Jane still wouldn't notice him
Even if his hair was on fire
But then one day he went to that science lab
That mutated spider came down
Oh, and now Peter crawls over everyone's walls
And he's swingin' all over town
La li la, li de da
La la, li le la da dom
Sling us a web, you're the Spider-Man
Sling us a web tonight
'Cause we're all in the mood for a hero now
And there's evil-doers to fight
Now Harry the rich kid's a friend of his
Who horns in on Mary Jane
But to his great surprise it seems she prefers guys
Who can kiss upside-down in the rain
"With great power comes great responsibility"
That's the catch phrase of old Uncle Ben
If you missed it, don't worry, they'll say the line
Again and again and again
Oh, la la la, di de da
La la, di di da da dom
Now Norman's a billionaire scientist
Who never had time for his son
But then something went screwy and before you knew he
Was trying to kill everyone
And he's ridin' around on that glider thing
And he's throwin' that weird pumpkin bomb
Yes, he's wearin' that dumb Power Rangers mask
But he's scarier without it on
Sling us a web, you're the Spider-Man
Sling us a web tonight
'Cause you're brave and you're strong and so limber now
But where'd you come up with those tights?
It's a pretty sad day at the funeral
Norman Osborn has bitten the dust
And I heard Harry's said he wants Spider-Man dead
Aw, but his buddy Pete he can trust
Oh, and M.J. is all hot for Peter now
Aw, but Peter, he just shuts her down
Mary Jane, don't you cry, you can give it a try
Again when the sequel comes 'round
Oh, la la la, di de da
La la, di di da da dom
Sling us a web, you're the Spider-Man
Sling us a web tonight
'Cause we all sure could use us a hero now

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Lady of Shalott (1832)

PART I
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
The yellow-leaved waterlily
The green-sheathed daffodilly
Tremble in the water chilly
Round about Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens shiver.
The sunbeam showers break and quiver
In the stream that runneth ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

Underneath the bearded barley,
The reaper, reaping late and early,
Hears her ever chanting cheerly,
Like an angel, singing clearly,
O'er the stream of Camelot.
Piling the sheaves in furrows airy,
Beneath the moon, the reaper weary
Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy,
Lady of Shalott.'

The little isle is all inrail'd
With a rose-fence, and overtrail'd
With roses: by the marge unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken sail'd,
Skimming down to Camelot.
A pearl garland winds her head:
She leaneth on a velvet bed,
Full royally apparelled,
The Lady of Shalott.
PART II

No time hath she to sport and play:
A charmed web she weaves alway.
A curse is on her, if she stay
Her weaving, either night or day,
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be;
Therefore she weaveth steadily,
Therefore no other care hath she,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Orb Weaver Spider

The Orb Weaver spider spins her web,
Round and round and round.
She works away slowly and silently,
Without making a single sound.

She's patient and determined,
No matter how long it takes,
And, if the web gets badly damaged,
The whole thing she will just remake.

She secures her new web
Between a fence and a washing line,
Then retreats into the middle of it,
Hoping that everything will be just fine.

Unfortunately, the house owner
Hangs her tea towel right there.
The web is now in tatters
And has to be repaired.

This situation with the tea towel,
Happens again and again and again.
Having to repair the web constantly,
Is starting to become a really big pain.

Having seen this fine work of art hung there,
The owner shows the spider no respect.
She just carries on hanging it there regardless.
Whether the web is there or not, she hasn't checked.

The spider and the house owner
Are now at war and neither will give in.
Neither of them will budge an inch,
So neither of them will ever win.

But, the year rolls on and on.
Like the rest of her kind, the spider will die.
One day, she's just not there anymore,
Having gone to meet her maker in the sky.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Relieved again was I

A summer afternoon
Sun hidden in clouds
That formed a thin screen
Over the entire sky
Dispersed sun light

Crows flying in a formation
As I was witnessing
Through a window from
The sixth floor
Doves fluttering from
One window to the other
Hot wind blowing but
Adding some comfort to
The sweating and mildly drenched body
And wiping off some sweat inside

Busy traffic down on the roads
Exhausts’ spewing
Screaming brakes
And sudden halts
Sleepy gulmohar leaves with
Yellow little flowers on top

My eyes shifted to a bee
As it passed near my face
With a zing and a sharp sound
How quick and smart it was
I stopped watching outside
But inside the balcony
My eyes following the fast bee, our hero
Oh, my god he got stuck
Onto to a spider web
A net spread to catch a prey
“Our hero bee is a prey now”
Was my inner cry

No he was not letting that happen
Struggling with his legs
And trying to get out of the web
A big spider in the middle of the web
Woke up off its sleep
Because of ripples in the web
And fast approaching its prey

Struggle on one side
Chase on the other
Spider almost reached its prey
With its legs placed in a position
Over the struggling bee

[...] Read more

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Spider's Web

The spider weaves a web so it can catch its prey
wherever it is convenient to take its hunger away.
An intricate net so finely built yet strong to withhold
all those creatures of nature that get caught in its fold.

The spider knows it will most likely do its job well
and so in the course of the day only time will tell.
It is only when something bigger comes along the way
that the web will break and from its foundations stray.

It’s made to withstand the elements of wind, rain or shine
though it appears in structure to be very delicate and fine.
It never ceases to amaze me with what precision it is made
the work of a skilled artist and product of non-human trade.

It’s made of the same basic material as the silk of the worm
which the spider spins out of its body but is sticky and firm.
The purpose behind the two though has a different motive
being to the both of them uniquely characteristic or native.

I wouldn’t like to be one of those creatures caught in the web
struggling desperately to get away and feeling its own life ebb.
The length and trouble some creatures go to in life to survive
is part of the drama that goes on in nature to keep them alive.

The spider’s web hangs securely moving gently with the breeze
and is fastened onto stationary objects that support it with ease.
Its creator waits patiently at the centre for the right time to come
when the web gives signs that food has arrived again hmm…yum.

If you then happen to see a spider’s web that’s along your way
don’t go and deliberately pull it down as it is a crime I must say.
Unless abandoned or an interference let it catch the spider’s main feed
which is based on its natural instinct of survival and not that of greed.

poem by George Krokos
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The Sinner and The Spider

Sinner.

What black, what ugly crawling thing art thou?

Spider.

I am a spider——————-

Sinner.

A spider, ay, also a filthy creature.

Spider.

Not filthy as thyself in name or feature.
My name entailed is to my creation,
My features from the God of thy salvation.

Sinner.

I am a man, and in God's image made,
I have a soul shall neither die nor fade,
God has possessed me with human reason,
Speak not against me lest thou speakest treason.
For if I am the image of my Maker,
Of slanders laid on me He is partaker.

Spider.

I know thou art a creature far above me,
Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee.
But though thy God hath made thee such a creature,
Thou hast against him often played the traitor.
Thy sin has fetched thee down: leave off to boast;
Nature thou hast defiled, God's image lost.
Yea, thou thyself a very beast hast made,
And art become like grass, which soon doth fade.
Thy soul, thy reason, yea, thy spotless state,
Sin has subjected to th' most dreadful fate.
But I retain my primitive condition,
I've all but what I lost by thy ambition.

Sinner.

Thou venomed thing, I know not what to call thee,
The dregs of nature surely did befall thee,
Thou wast made of the dross and scum of all,
Man hates thee; doth, in scorn, thee spider call.

Spider.

[...] Read more

poem by John Bunyan
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Worldwide Web Of Mind

The spider with which, with whom,
I share the sunshine of these late summer days
and the front garden – though in truth,
the silver filigree denies me two-thirds of it,
so broad the span of this ambitious engineer –

the spider which or who has grown so large
that its claws are some rapacious hawk in miniature,
almost scary in their taloned, threatening curve,
and which yesterday sat immobile in the centre of its web
either sleeping, or awaiting, or perhaps both,

is not there today; and I recall that yesterday
it had a silvery bag attached to it, which now I guess
could be some exquisite womb worn like a jewelled pride
which needs no protection..the web’s undamaged
so surely no marauding bird has pecked the spider
from the undamaged centre of this web?

Where has the spider chosen, for its special day,
Its birthing place, its private ward –
and does it have its huge emotions in miniature,
its pride, its special love, around that tiny thing?
There is no clue; the guy-ropes of its web are silent.
Will I see it in the next few days
teaching its baby all its circus tricks,
abseil, swing, launch in the wind to far-off unknown lands?

Or is it true that, having borne a little brood,
this creature, so magniificent,
gives its life to them, to c arry on the silken line?
does it know that sacrifice it makes
which is as noble as that of any man?
and will its brood also carry in their blood
a memory, inherited, that there,
across the front garden, six feet from East to West,
that silken line their mother made -
their only inheritance from her, apart from life itself,
awaits their darning needle?

I inspect carefully the web, as one might inspect
and read the menu for some blind lunching friend;
amused a little, embarrassed a little, solemn a little,
as the Creation’s relative dimensions
shrink, expand, draw me into the web of universal mind;
a filigree humility; a life not owned but shared.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Infrequently Asked Questions

Is it true
the most compassionate people in life
are the ones in the greatest danger?
That the most generous
will lose their hands to the ones they fed?
That the bravest will be hunted down by protected cowards
and when the last of the heroes are dead
and the dragons who inspired them
are the advertising themes of amusement parks
those with the smallest balls
will give themselves the biggest awards?
Is it true
those who are creative
chafe the destroyers like anti-matter
and give the intellectuals diaper-rash of the mind?
That just to open your eyes
to watch the stars and fireflies
is enough to make other people feel blind
and insist you black them out
like pearls in an air-raid?
What's a starmap to a mole?
What's a lamp that shines in braille
to someone without fingerprints?
Is it true that beauty summons the worm
as a material eye-witness to its ruin?
That genius is devoured
by cannibalistic Neanderthals
into homoeopathic magic
for the power of its brain
to turn thought into protein
with a high creatine content
that can make your dick strike twelve anachronistically
so you can go on knapping flint
for the next hundred thousand years?
That genius is a freak in isolation
that gets its own back
for being pecked at
like a phoenix among chickens
by opening Pandora's box
like the atom at Los Alamos
like the genie in the lamp
and making a Trojan horse of its gifts
gives them everything they want
because anything as red
as Van Gogh's hair and beard and ear in Arles
must be either a phoenix
or a fox with chicken-pox.
Sometimes you have more to fear
from the keys
than the locks.

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Another differentiator is that Skype is free and simple to set up, and it costs us virtually nothing for a new user to join the Skype network, which is why we can offer the service for free.

quote by Niklas Zennstrom
Added by Lucian Velea
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Skype' You are a Scourge

I Try to read the verse
Line to line
'Skype' pops in
And stops the rhyme

Reading quality writes
Verse to verse
Giving them respect
For the rehearse

Tsira,
Greenwolf,
And Dee Daffodil
Writes sure to put a smile
On your grill

For 'SKYPE' your
Such a scourge
Taking and replacing
Fine writings
Leaving me with an urge
To push my computer to the verge

For I plead
To the authorites
Mercy
Mercy
(And not in french)
My stomach Knotted by
A wrench

My cry! , my cry?
And deafness I must defy
Can you really hear me sigh? ?

Its replacation
Toxic poision
Its transmission
Producing Progeny
Likes of the such: (

'Be Romantic'
So innocent is its touch

'Whats your credit score'
Luring me to a financial door

'Who is searching for you? '
What else is new?

[...] Read more

poem by Howard Johnson
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Elegy For Whatever Had A Pattern In It

Now that the Summer of Love has become the moss of tunnels
And the shadowy mouths of tunnels & all the tunnels lead into the city,

I'm going to put the one largely forgotten, swaying figure of Ediesto Huerta
Right in front of you so you can watch him swamp fruit

Out of an orchard in the heat of an August afternoon, I'm going to let you

Keep your eyes on him as he lifts & swings fifty-pound boxes of late
Elberta peaches up to me where I'm standing on a flatbed trailer & breathing in
Tractor exhaust so thick it bends the air, bends things seen through it

So that they seem to swim through the air.

It is a lousy job, & no one has to do it, & we do it.

We do it so that I can show you even what isn't there,
What's hidden. And signed by Time itself. And set spinning,

And is only a spider, after all, with its net waiting for what falls,
For what flies into it, & ages, & turns gray in a matter of minutes. The web
Is nothing's blueprint, bleached by the sun & whitened by it, it's what's left

After we've vanished, after we become what falls apart when anyone

Touches it, eyelash & collarbone dissolving into air, & time touching
The boxes we are wrapped in like gifts & splintering them

Into wood again, at the edge of a wood.
2

Black Widow is a name no one ever tinkered with or tried to change.
If you turn her on her back you can see the blood red hourglass figure

She carries on her belly,

Small as the design of a pirate I saw once on a tab of blotter acid

Before I took half of it, & a friend took the other, & then the two of us
Walked down to the empty post office beside the lake to look,

For some reason, at the wanted posters. We liked a little drama
In the ordinary then. Now a spider's enough.

And this one, in the legend she inhabits, is famous, & the male dies.
She eats its head after the eggs are fertilized.

It's the hourglass on her belly I remember, & the way the figure of it,
Figure eight of Time & Infinity, looked like something designed,

[...] Read more

poem by Larry Levis
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Anyone who slaps a 'this page is best viewed with Browser X' label on a Web page appears to be yearning for the bad old days, before the Web, when you had very little chance of reading a document written on another computer, another word processor, or another network.

quote by Tim Berners-Lee
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Today, Web services is really about developing for the server. What it means to developers is any set of systems services that you make a Web service you to access by any kind of device with a highly interactive client, not just a browser.

quote by John Fowler
Added by Lucian Velea
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New Generation

WLAN and Tablet-Computer,
GPS and teenagers,
UMITS and Tablet-PC,
Bluetooth and the new generation,
Hewlett-Packard and the muse of the computer,
Google and the whole world in your hands,
Microsoft and Navigation,
Acer and Facebook,
Asus and the E-mails,
Dell and the Media-Player,
Nokia and Web-Browser,
Toshiba and the nature of your surfing,
LG and the web-sites,
Samsung and the muse of this new generation,
HDTV and the exposure of your muse,
Microphones and laud speakers,
Joystick, mouse and the keyboard!
The iphone and the ipad are now to your reach;
And like a vision from the medicine man nearby you,
But we are all glued up to this new generation of technology.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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