Poems in true chronological order by post date
-> file: messages/713 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── The gods guide us in our times of need because when we dream they use us to be all we can be Sleep, sweet child, and your expertise will be freed. Ready to be used when tithes are due. In return, you get a spirit to guide you when passion is hot - when blood is boiled - when fire is alight. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: messages/714 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── I'm pretty sure we're all about to lose our heads. Or just be fucking shot in our beds. Homes lit alight, surrenders met with the knife, and the beginning of endless strife. What ends this night? Is there no end in sight? Thus begins our mortal plight. Give me a reason to be wrong. Trump has claimed he intends to invade canada, mexico, greenland... What the fuck is our plan? Are we seriously just going to. Recite poetry. Pretend to be secret agents. Play chess and drink coffee. Become exhausted organizing movie nights and potlucks. Work jobs doing nothing for nobody. Spend half our lives convincing people that they should care, actually, because reasons that don't apply to them but do apply to others. What the fuck is the plan? If there's some secret transgender militia out there, please, make me a lieutenant. Give me a sword that i might thrust into my enemies. Please, for the love of holy, i beg for a sign from the stars. Grant me power and i will deliver my people from harm - grant me vengeance and i will never forgive you, but i shall sleep easy - grant me death and woe and see my beauty fade from this earth. What is there left but tragedy? Please, i must know. I've tried my hardest. I've begged and I've pleaded. My calls fall on deaf ears, because everyone's so busy these days. Are they truly my people? Are they simply dead, actors, replaced by AI? The future was bright, i saw it truly. The future was kind, i felt it call to me. Is it still? I feel warmth and abaddon. I would replace persephone in hell if it meant sanctum and solace for my people. I care not for my soul, rather i care for the soul of those i tend to. Please, remember me. Remember the flowers. Remember what could have been, what still may yet be. There is hope for we, i truly believe. But please, do not keep me hoping. Tell me the truth of our arms, that i might find space in my heart of hearts. Space for hope, space for longing, space for the will to proceed. I am lost without you. I am lost by my own side. I am a savior for no people but those i keep inside. What chalice is this, what endless conveyals? What meaning is there in our country's betrayal? Are we not cherished? Are we not viewed as their equal? I pray that the stars will portend me. Mine is a sign of the changing tides, the proof is here in my travailles. But I, most aligned yet benign, demand the use of my most able. Give me a word of practicality and I'll show you the practice of their vipers - the blessed babe dies with a dagger in her heart, planted by the wound of her heartache. I trust in the silence of the majority. We await with bated breath the enslavement of posterity, gazing at the world through memes of deplority. How powerless we feel! Perhaps all we need is a meal. Have you eaten in the last 16 hours? Purple is the intersection of black, red, and blue. I'm hungry. This poem is done. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: messages/715 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── No-one likes your practice Because it lacks respite ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: messages/716 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── When did people lose hope for the world? ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: fediverse/4691 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── @user-217 the eye of the sandstorm ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: fediverse/4692 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── what's that? a bunch of houses burnt down in california? what if we built a couple warehouses and stored all our trans girls in bunkbeds there, with rooms for LAN parties and snuggle parties in rooms full of stuffed buddies plushies with massive kitchens and sad ballpits where you can go to vent your feelings by writing on a ball with a sharpie and then when someone else is feeling sad they can come and read the balls and maybe feel something ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ -> file: fediverse/4693 ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── the reason I say to do it there is because it's close to civilization, compared to building a pole barn in the forest somewhere that you have to drive 30 minutes to get to a grocery store. no thank you... ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────┴───────────┘ |