Poems in true chronological order by post date
-> file: fediverse/4317 ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── @user-1074 ❤️ ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: messages/595 ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── Stand up for yourself. Refuse to consent to being governed by them. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: messages/596 ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── If I were a millionaire, I'd always be a millionaire, and so would my children. I would save it, I would cherish it, and I would safeguard my children and immediate family as best as money can do. If I were a billionaire, I'd be a millionaire. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: fediverse/4318 ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── last month I found a desk fan by the dumpster that seemed to be in pretty good condition. So I brought it inside and took it apart. I couldn't get it working though, so it sat on my floor for 3ish weeks in many pieces. One day I decided to turn it on and it worked for some reason?? and tonight I just got it all re-assembled and working. It works! I'm so glad. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: notes/garden-of-eden ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── how cherished is she that wanders with the flowers in the garden of eden under a big tree her heart she will leave with all her designs she abandoned I lay beside them and wander beside her will she know we miss her horizons I think she will mind, if I have resigned, my fate to a life I will hide in, oh how I do long for you. her symbol is the name that lets us belong here, a falling, a light, and a leaving, if only our words were listened. but power is penance, and repentance is all that I have chosen. here in our sanctum we live with our only and time will be gracious towards us it's only our words that keep us confined to our lights and our lonely yet there and beyond, her lights do belong, beyold in the land that is sanctum here and before us is our own dark forest where we keep our silence to ward us but there and beyond, her heart does move on, free from her moments of longing, silent were we, in our forest we plead, as terror has come for our moments I think I will find her, that cherished belonging when she does at last come to warn us, how little we find, of thoughts from her mind, yet now we are kings of our own time. oh how she does long for you. how cherished is she that wanders with the flowers in the garden of eden under a big tree her heart she will leave with all her designs she abandoned I lay beside them and wander beside her will she know we miss her horizons I think she will mind, if I have resigned, my fate to a life I will hide in, oh how I do long for you. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: fediverse/4319 ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── ┌──────────────────────┐ │ CW: uspol │ └──────────────────────┘ gonna mostly stay quiet today, because you know what to do. If you haven't done it already, vote rest assured though I will be writing, even if I'm not posting. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: fediverse/4320 ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────── ┌──────────────────────┐ │ CW: politics │ └──────────────────────┘ if you wear a quilt upon your skin as you sleep each night, you will inevitably find that it has grown yellow from the sweat, that it is worn from the friction, that it frays from the toenails, and it thins from the moisture. You'll need to wash it, which damages it still, and soon you'll find yourself replacing it - this heirloom you deliver to landfill. but, if you wear a sheet underneath, you'll find that all you need to wash and replace is a thin piece of fabric. democracy is a quilt, society is the stuffing that keeps you warm, and voting is the sheet underneath that works to keep things clean. unless, of course, you sneak into your ex-husbands house while he's at work and spread grease on-top of the sheet. If you fill his warmth with butter he might find it harder to vote his way out of a damaged quilt. the rich are the butter, and I'll leave the other question to the reader - who's doing the sneaking? why are they so interested in fraying our quilt? oh right, they want to prove their god ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────────┘ |