Oh, Clean Language, so simple and bright,
You cut through our words, like a beacon at night.
You’re more than just questions, a mere interrogation,
You foster connection and aid contemplation.

In the hands of a therapist, so wise and so deft,
You’re a mirror to thoughts, both the right and the left. A reflection so clear, a reflection so pure,
Helping us to examine, to think and endure.

With you, we sidestep assumptions so sly,
Navigating the mind’s labyrinth, oh my!
You unlock hidden wisdom, you uncover the truth,
In the hearts of the old, in the souls of the youth.

Through your lens, we see our thoughts unfurl,
In a whirl of colours, they dance and they twirl.
And oh, how they gyre, in this dance of perception,
Under your gentle, your kind, your clear introspection.

So here’s to you, Clean Language, in all your might,
In personal battles and professional fight.
May you continue to help us, to see and to hear,
Our own thoughts and feelings, so vivid and clear.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Agile development, we loved thee so,
Yet now thy flame is flickering low,
And all the world grows dimmer in our sight.

Once thou wert young and full of fire,
A new way of working, a bright new dawn,
We dreamed of all the things thou couldst spawn,
And all the ways thou couldst lift us higher.

But now we mourn thy fading grace,
Thy light that once shone bright and bold,
Now flickers weakly, frail and old,
And leaves us lost in this darkened space.

No more the sprints that flew so fast,
No more the stand-ups sharp and bright,
No more the retrospectives to shed light,
On how to improve, how to make it last.

Agile development, we bid thee adieu,
Thou wert a bright star in our sky,
And though now we say our fey goodbye,
We’ll hold onto the lessons we learned from you.

Bill Deming

Request to ChatGPT

Write, in the style of dylan thomas, a lament for the West’s continued ignorance of Bill Deming and his works.

Response from ChatGPT

Do not go gentle into that good night,
West, oh West, in all thy ignorance bright,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light,
For still thou dost not know the name of Deming,

His works, oh how they were ignored by thee,
While others praised and built upon his theories,
Thou wast content to let his wisdom be,
Lost in the annals of history.

How could thou, oh West, be so blind,
To the insights that Deming had to offer,
His writings, oh how they were ahead of their time,
Yet thou didst not see their worth,

Oh West, how thou hast missed the mark,
In thy dismissal of Deming’s work,
For now, oh how we see the truth,
In the failings of thy industry and economy.

But still, oh West, do not despair,
For there is time to learn from Deming’s wisdom,
To embrace his teachings and to mend thy ways,
And to join the ranks of those who thrive.

So do not go gentle into that good night,
West, oh West, in all thy ignorance bright,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light,
And seek the knowledge of Deming.