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Search results for tag #poem

[?]Paul Tobin Β» 🌐
@thewaitofwater@mastodon.social

[?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
@kentpitman@climatejustice.social

we don't understand
enough to predict Climate,
just to ignore it

    [?]Simon J Ashcroft Β» 🌐
    @SJAsh_03@mastodon.sdf.org

    Autumn Woods

    Liquid light filters
    through dying leaves, guiding me
    along woodland paths;
    wind stirs the trees, and spirits
    seem to whisper, "Come back home."

    Β© Simon J Ashcroft, 2026

      [?]Farooq [Master Patata] Β» 🌐
      @farooqkz@mastodon.bsd.cafe

      Lord! Save me for I am lost!
      The darkness consumes and the mind has frost.
      Lord! You promised us light.
      For you, O Father, we all fight.
      Father! Do not let yours go stray!
      Shed on us even one bit light ray.
      –Farooq, Master Patata

      Another coming out. Link on me weblog:
      far.chickenkiller.com/poem/lor

        [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
        @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

        Sitting in a darkened house
        Quietly, like a mouse
        No lights on, just a phone
        But I am not alone

        The predator creeps I do not know
        Where it is, although
        I'm sure it is watching me
        And can see

        Meow! Meow! Usually
        But not with a stranger here, now
        He will watch carefully
        Just in case he needs to flee

        (human written)

          [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
          @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

          Summer overstayed,
          so Autumn dressed as Christmas,
          a Halloween scare.

            [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
            @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

            [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
            @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

            [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
            @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

            [?]πŸ‘» Spooky Phantoms Frighten Β» 🌐
            @SPF@hear-me.social

            from "Advice to a Lady in Autumn" by Philip Dormer Stanhope, 1763

            The poem has crisp autumn imagery, like this:

            "At twelve you may walk, for at this time o' the year,
            the sun, like your wit, is as mild, as 'tis clear:
            But mark in the meadows the ruin of Time;
            take the hint, and let life be improv'd in its prime."

            But the whole poem is really a passive-aggressive rant that she (the Lady) shouldn't have rejected the author's romantic interest, as hinted in the last line above. Another example:

            "At nine [a.m.] stretch your arms, and oh! think when alone, there's no pleasure in bed 😏
            β€” 'MARY, bring me my gown.'
            Slip on that ere you rise;
            let your caution be such;
            Keep all cold from your breast ...
            there's already too much."

            Okay, Phil, I admit that compared to some dudes, you express your disappointment in a healthy way. But there's no need to dwell on it. It's her loss! Move on, bro!

            eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/wo

              [?]Raze [OCTADE] Β» 🌐
              @8@star.octade.net

              Maya lube fur ewe ease Splendorous Scottish Brogue

              Eye assay sum sea lee wards fur ewe.
              Doe yi Noe mine loaf ease shrew?
              Date mine loaf fear ewe ease strewn,
              Mare dawn hair cue lees ease bruin?

                hairylarry boosted

                [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                hairylarry boosted

                [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                @Aphelion

                borrowed from Nothing
                we, and Time itself, pretend
                we were here at all

                  [?]πŸ‘» Spooky Phantoms Frighten Β» 🌐
                  @SPF@hear-me.social

                  excerpt from "To a Sad Daughter" by Michael Ondaatje

                  One afternoon I stepped
                  into your room. You were sitting
                  at the desk where I now write this.
                  Forsythia outside the window
                  and sun spilled over you
                  like a thick yellow miracle
                  as if another planet
                  was coaxing you out of the house
                  β€” all those possible worlds! -
                  and you, meanwhile, busy with mathematics.

                  I cannot look at forsythia now
                  without loss, or joy for you.
                  You step delicately
                  into the wild world
                  and your real prize will be
                  the frantic search.
                  Want everything. If you break
                  break going out not in.
                  How you live your life I don't care
                  but I'll sell my arms for you,
                  hold your secrets for ever.

                    [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                    @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                    [?]Ryan Β» 🌐
                    @SpiralSource@mastodon.social

                    [?]πŸ‘» Spooky Phantoms Frighten Β» 🌐
                    @SPF@hear-me.social

                    I turned to speak to God
                    about the world's despair
                    but to make bad matters worse
                    I found God wasn't there.

                    God turned to speak to me
                    (Don't anybody laugh)
                    God found I wasn't there
                    at least not over half.

                    Robert Frost, 1926

                      [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                      @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                      This week's Climate thought
                      arrived before its deadline.
                      But will your response?

                        AI6YR Ben boosted

                        [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                        @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                        Let's see... can I do this without backspace and delete, lol.

                        A poem composed on
a free typewriter

How many words can words appear
on a printed page?
Way too many I fear
In the computer age.

And who bother penning
their own rhyme
If the computers
Can do it in half the time

It's too hard, I'm no good
The youth they do exclaim
The hard way is the right way
That is what I explain.

                        Alt...A poem composed on a free typewriter How many words can words appear on a printed page? Way too many I fear In the computer age. And who bother penning their own rhyme If the computers Can do it in half the time It's too hard, I'm no good The youth they do exclaim The hard way is the right way That is what I explain.

                          [?]Ashwin Dixit Β» 🌐
                          @ashwin@defcon.social

                          Inside me are two wolves,
                          and they both wear black hats,
                          and a stochastic parrot,
                          a rabbit, and some cats.

                          Photo of Ashwin Dixit, in a park, wearing a black hat with a flashlight mounted on the forehead. He is smiling, has a silver beard, and a curly mustache.

                          Alt...Photo of Ashwin Dixit, in a park, wearing a black hat with a flashlight mounted on the forehead. He is smiling, has a silver beard, and a curly mustache.

                          Photo of Ashwin Dixit indoors. He is wearing a black hat with a flashlight mounted on the forehead. He has a silver beard and a curly mustache, and an intense expression.

                          Alt...Photo of Ashwin Dixit indoors. He is wearing a black hat with a flashlight mounted on the forehead. He has a silver beard and a curly mustache, and an intense expression.

                            [?]Raze [OCTADE] Β» 🌐
                            @8@star.octade.net

                            Keyboard Lord

                            I am lord
                            of my keyboard.
                            A keyboard lord
                            is like a budget
                            radio Rambo.
                            Instead of
                            pulling the trigger
                            I toggle keys.
                            I take aim
                            with my mouse
                            and fire a missive.
                            Instead of cutting
                            with survival knife
                            I wound with words.
                            My grand hand
                            raps like a rooster
                            pecking the eyes out
                            of little letters;
                            pecking patches
                            of shadowy serifs.

                              [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                              @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                              [?]FreshOutMag Β» 🌐
                              @freshoutmag@mastodon.social

                              Collaborative by Stephanie Zepherelli (IG: @bellaboopalombo - ), and Carol Rudall ( ). A California native and a former dance professor, Stephanie Zepherelli has been living on Oahu the past 40 years. She has a drawer full of mismatched spoons, and a tribe of Madagascar geckos.

                              In this collaborative #shahai by Stephanie Zepherelli @bellaboopalombo ( #poem ), and Carol Rudall ( #photo ), boot prints are seen in beach sand, the imprint of what is likely a cane, accompanying. The prints proceed in one direction (from the bottom of the frame toward the top) and then seem to turn and head back the other way. The accompanying #haiku reads,   turning heel              too many footnotes                               on a love letter   A California native and a former dance professor, Stephanie Zepherelli has been living on Oahu the past 40 years. She has a drawer full of mismatched spoons, and a tribe of Madagascar geckos. #oahu

                              Alt...In this collaborative #shahai by Stephanie Zepherelli @bellaboopalombo ( #poem ), and Carol Rudall ( #photo ), boot prints are seen in beach sand, the imprint of what is likely a cane, accompanying. The prints proceed in one direction (from the bottom of the frame toward the top) and then seem to turn and head back the other way. The accompanying #haiku reads, turning heel too many footnotes on a love letter A California native and a former dance professor, Stephanie Zepherelli has been living on Oahu the past 40 years. She has a drawer full of mismatched spoons, and a tribe of Madagascar geckos. #oahu

                                [?]Speckled Band Β» 🌐
                                @speckledband@ravenation.club

                                The title is taken from TS Eliot’s The Waste Land - and he took it from The Tempest by Shakespeare …

                                I remember
                                Those are pearls that were his eyes.
                                β€œAre you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”

                                (From The Waste Land)

                                  [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                  @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                  [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                  @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                  RE: universeodon.com/@HollyCo26588

                                  Climate storms our gates.
                                  We could mount a real response,
                                  but let's close the blinds.

                                  For more contextual info, see my comment attached to climatejustice.social/@HollyCo

                                    oheso boosted

                                    [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                                    @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                                    Creepy stalkers wear our glasses
                                    Go around looking at women's a***
                                    Tracking everything that you've bought
                                    Sell that data, fund my yacht
                                    Nothing I ever do would be opt in
                                    Asking permission it's a sin
                                    Billionaires just take and take
                                    What they want, too bad mate
                                    But alas what is worse
                                    Are all the billionaire fans, they're a curse

                                    (human written)

                                      [?]Mic(hell)e Β» 🌐
                                      @Aphelion@mastodon.sdf.org

                                      screwlisp boosted

                                      [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                      @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                      oheso boosted

                                      [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                                      @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                                      Poem for the occasional (composed by me)

                                      Forty cats were sailing the seven seas
                                      The wind was fierce, so were the fleas
                                      Wandering around on a sailboat then
                                      Who know where they set sail from or when

                                      Drifted into Tacoma one day
                                      Someone called the police they say
                                      For hungry mewing and meowing you could hear
                                      From the beach and the shore very near

                                      Alas the kitties and kittens were rescued by boat
                                      The sailboat at least it continued to float
                                      The cats had to abandon their around the world sail
                                      For their venture, it appears, was destined to fail

                                      (human written)

                                        [?]Simon J Ashcroft Β» 🌐
                                        @SJAsh_03@mastodon.sdf.org

                                        Sleep

                                        May the night embrace
                                        the wonder of the starlight;
                                        vast, untold Γ¦ons;
                                        the infinity of dreams;
                                        and all of our grief or joy.

                                        Β© Simon J Ashcroft, 2026

                                          [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                          @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                          AmbientDread boosted

                                          [?]Simon J Ashcroft Β» 🌐
                                          @SJAsh_03@mastodon.sdf.org

                                          Humid

                                          This summer air clings
                                          to my skin, with the softness
                                          of a silken sheet

                                          Β© Simon J Ashcroft, 2026

                                            [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                                            @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                                            FSD zombie,
                                            In the next lane
                                            No one is steering
                                            Where is your brain?

                                            Hands on the wheel
                                            But eyes on a screen
                                            Not watching the road
                                            Drooling running out in a stream

                                            Suddenly your car veers
                                            Into a tree
                                            Goodbye
                                            FSD zombie

                                            (human composed)

                                              screwlisp boosted

                                              [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                              @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                              screwlisp boosted

                                              [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                              @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                              [?]Karen Kaspar Β» 🌐
                                              @KarenKasparArt@socel.net

                                              eat, drink, sleep, cuddle
                                              sometimes I wish
                                              I was my cat

                                              My ink drawing of this cute kitty is also available combined with this lovely haiku.

                                              Haiku: @MarjoleinRotsteeg

                                              eat, drink, sleep, cuddle
sometimes I wish
I was my cat

Sweet dreams is a minimalist black and white ink drawing by artist Karen Kaspar. A cute kitten lies sleeping on the floor. It seems to be smiling and having sweet dreams.

This work, a combination of painting and haiku, is a joint project by Karen Kaspar (Β© art and artwork) and Marjolein Rotsteeg (Β© Haiku).
A haiku is a traditional Japanese poetry form consisting of three lines.

Here the ink drawing was supplemented with the haiku in English

                                              Alt...eat, drink, sleep, cuddle sometimes I wish I was my cat Sweet dreams is a minimalist black and white ink drawing by artist Karen Kaspar. A cute kitten lies sleeping on the floor. It seems to be smiling and having sweet dreams. This work, a combination of painting and haiku, is a joint project by Karen Kaspar (Β© art and artwork) and Marjolein Rotsteeg (Β© Haiku). A haiku is a traditional Japanese poetry form consisting of three lines. Here the ink drawing was supplemented with the haiku in English

                                                [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                wildfire haze clouds thought.
                                                when it lets up, let's fix this.
                                                what if it doesn't?

                                                A view of a bleak, hazy, white-orange sky with a sun that is muted and has a visible corona, scattered by the haze. Hills are barely visible as outlines in the distance. In the foreground, a flag flies at half staff, presumably for an unrelated reason, and yet it contributes visually to a sense of foreboding or mourning in the scene.

                                                Alt...A view of a bleak, hazy, white-orange sky with a sun that is muted and has a visible corona, scattered by the haze. Hills are barely visible as outlines in the distance. In the foreground, a flag flies at half staff, presumably for an unrelated reason, and yet it contributes visually to a sense of foreboding or mourning in the scene.

                                                  oheso boosted

                                                  [?]Dave Rahardja (temporarily spooky) Β» 🌐
                                                  @drahardja@sfba.social

                                                  β€œPLEASE USE AI” β€” poem by Joanna Atkins-Potts

                                                  Source: hxxps://www.instagram.com/p/DZaR5o_iKNy/

                                                  PLEASE USE AI

Please use AI
when your mother dies.

Ask it what grief feels like.
Let it explain bereavement
in twelve clear bullet points.

Do not spend years
finding her
in the supermarket
by the tomatoes she always bought,
in the smell of rain on warm pavement,
discovering new ways
to miss her.

                                                  Alt...PLEASE USE AI Please use AI when your mother dies. Ask it what grief feels like. Let it explain bereavement in twelve clear bullet points. Do not spend years finding her in the supermarket by the tomatoes she always bought, in the smell of rain on warm pavement, discovering new ways to miss her.

                                                  Please use AI
the next time you fall in love.

Ask it how to know
whether someone is the one.

It will give you a faster answer
than watching a person become familiar,
learning how they take their tea,
which floorboards will wake them,
how their silence sounds
when something is wrong.

                                                  Alt...Please use AI the next time you fall in love. Ask it how to know whether someone is the one. It will give you a faster answer than watching a person become familiar, learning how they take their tea, which floorboards will wake them, how their silence sounds when something is wrong.

                                                  And please use AI
for your wedding vows,
your eulogies,
your apologies.

Why struggle
for the right words
when a machine can give you
beautiful ones?

Words untouched by shaking hands.
Words that have never sat beside
a hospital bed.
Words that have never known
the terrible privilege
of having something to lose.

                                                  Alt...And please use AI for your wedding vows, your eulogies, your apologies. Why struggle for the right words when a machine can give you beautiful ones? Words untouched by shaking hands. Words that have never sat beside a hospital bed. Words that have never known the terrible privilege of having something to lose.

                                                  Meanwhile

I will be over here
watching someone I love
fall asleep on the sofa,
the television talking to itself,
rain tapping the windows,
the dog twitching in her dreams,

wasting my life
on these small unremarkable moments
that become,
without asking permission,
the whole thing.

                                                  Alt...Meanwhile I will be over here watching someone I love fall asleep on the sofa, the television talking to itself, rain tapping the windows, the dog twitching in her dreams, wasting my life on these small unremarkable moments that become, without asking permission, the whole thing.

                                                    [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                    @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                    oheso boosted

                                                    [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                                                    @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                                                    Poem for the occasion of INTERSTELLAR SUGAR DUST

                                                    Interstellar sugar dust
                                                    Send me by rocket, if you must
                                                    Need to lick up the sweetness of space
                                                    I hear of raspberries it does taste
                                                    If you can fly around oh my
                                                    That sweetness lurking in the sky

                                                    (human composed, mine)

                                                      [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                      @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                      AmbientDread boosted

                                                      [?]Simon J Ashcroft Β» 🌐
                                                      @SJAsh_03@mastodon.sdf.org

                                                      Estate

                                                      Ghosts of the past, seen
                                                      in remnants of stone and light,
                                                      revealed by the sun.

                                                      Β© Simon J Ashcroft, 2026

                                                        oheso boosted

                                                        [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                                                        @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                                                        I'm no patriot, won't fly no flag
                                                        You've taken that away, and it's a drag
                                                        Used to proudly fly the Red White and Blue
                                                        til they told me, buddy, it's not for you

                                                        People gave their life, but not for a king
                                                        But you've gone and changed it, that's the thing
                                                        It's a country for brown, black, yellow, white and red
                                                        Any color of skin, that's what they said

                                                        But now they're telling us you don't belong here
                                                        Just a country for white Christian racists, I fear
                                                        So I'll keep the flag folded, in a drawer in the den
                                                        Til someday maybe, it will come out again

                                                        (human)

                                                          [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                          @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                          arctic thirty-eight?
                                                          well, at least not three eighty.
                                                          THEN we'd have to care.

                                                          A summary from a DuckDuckGo search result that shows an article by the World Meteorological Organization with the headline "WMO recognizes new Arctic temperature record of 380C". The one-line summary of the article beneath it makes it clear this headline has a typo, since it says "A temperature of 38Β°C (100.4Β°F) in the Russian town of Verkhoyank on 20 June 2020 has been recognized as a new Arctic temperature record by the World Meteorological Organization (WMO)."

                                                          Alt...A summary from a DuckDuckGo search result that shows an article by the World Meteorological Organization with the headline "WMO recognizes new Arctic temperature record of 380C". The one-line summary of the article beneath it makes it clear this headline has a typo, since it says "A temperature of 38Β°C (100.4Β°F) in the Russian town of Verkhoyank on 20 June 2020 has been recognized as a new Arctic temperature record by the World Meteorological Organization (WMO)."

                                                            screwlisp boosted

                                                            [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                            @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                            [?]Earl Β» 🌐
                                                            @Earl@mast.john1126.com

                                                            Can you tell this voice is AI? It sounds very human to me.

                                                            Free tool used to generate audio: on

                                                            This is the reading of Part II to the poem:
                                                            Muspilli

                                                            meaning "World's End"

                                                            (from the year 870 AD, originally written in Old German by anonymous)

                                                            Old High German is no longer used today in normal communications, but could still translate it.

                                                            john1126.com/537

                                                              oheso boosted

                                                              [?]AI6YR Ben Β» 🌐
                                                              @ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org

                                                              @wtrmt @VATVSLPR @AndrewHenry

                                                              The siren sounds of duct tape
                                                              Luring people in
                                                              Make them want to wrap stuff up
                                                              Leading to a life of sin

                                                              Strapping stuff together
                                                              With cloth, plastic, glue
                                                              It's all fine and dandy
                                                              You can even fix your shoe

                                                              It all seems to be working
                                                              No need for bolts or screws
                                                              Til you have a sudden failure
                                                              And your shoes you lose

                                                              Now I hear you can duct tape
                                                              Your broken bumper now
                                                              Still one day in the future
                                                              It'll still fall off, POW!

                                                              Their seductive rolls beckon
                                                              Fix everything thing with me
                                                              Alas another year in the sun
                                                              And it's broken again, see!

                                                              (human written!)

                                                                [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                                @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                                [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                                @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                                [?]Paul Tobin Β» 🌐
                                                                @thewaitofwater@mastodon.social

                                                                ##poet ##blog

                                                                blessedbymagpies.blogspot.com/

                                                                lino cut of man on a beach, bottom half circles - rockpools, top quarter dark sky with full moon, middle quarter horizontal lines of the sea

                                                                Alt...lino cut of man on a beach, bottom half circles - rockpools, top quarter dark sky with full moon, middle quarter horizontal lines of the sea

                                                                  [?]Paul Tobin Β» 🌐
                                                                  @thewaitofwater@mastodon.social

                                                                  blessedbymagpies.blogspot.com/

                                                                  alien world painted on za set of large industrial metal doors
leafless tress, moon big in the sky

                                                                  Alt...alien world painted on za set of large industrial metal doors leafless tress, moon big in the sky

                                                                    [?]Paul Tobin Β» 🌐
                                                                    @thewaitofwater@mastodon.social

                                                                    creative blog

                                                                    blessedbymagpies.blogspot.com/

                                                                    rocking horse fills about half the photo leaded glass panes of glass behind the back feet of the horse, fy=urnitire by the head- photo taken in a shop

                                                                    Alt...rocking horse fills about half the photo leaded glass panes of glass behind the back feet of the horse, fy=urnitire by the head- photo taken in a shop

                                                                      AmbientDread boosted

                                                                      [?]Simon J Ashcroft Β» 🌐
                                                                      @SJAsh_03@mastodon.sdf.org

                                                                      Heat

                                                                      In stillness, the night
                                                                      offers no breath of comfort
                                                                      through open windows.

                                                                      Β© Simon J Ashcroft, 2026

                                                                        screwlisp boosted

                                                                        [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                                        @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                                        proud, we sacrifice,
                                                                        wanting the best for our kids.
                                                                        such climate fiction.

                                                                          [?]Paul Tobin Β» 🌐
                                                                          @thewaitofwater@mastodon.social

                                                                          screwlisp boosted

                                                                          [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                                          @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                                          oheso boosted

                                                                          [?]myrmepropagandist [she/her/lady/ma'am/That One/Mrs.] Β» 🌐
                                                                          @futurebird@sauropods.win

                                                                          Aw give me a home
                                                                          where the fat aphids roam
                                                                          and naive slow crickets will play...

                                                                          Were seldom is left
                                                                          a bad pheromone path
                                                                          and the skies are not cloudy all day

                                                                          Home, home in the branch
                                                                          where naive slow crickets will play!
                                                                          Well catch em all fast
                                                                          cricket legs for breakfast
                                                                          and the skies are not cloudy all day

                                                                          (drawing from:etsy.com/listing/1188122763/cu)

                                                                          A black and white line drawing of an ant with a lil cowgirl hat and a neck bandana riding an aphid.

                                                                          Alt...A black and white line drawing of an ant with a lil cowgirl hat and a neck bandana riding an aphid.

                                                                            [?]πŸ‘» Spooky Phantoms Frighten Β» 🌐
                                                                            @SPF@hear-me.social

                                                                            I am! yet what I am none cares or knows,

                                                                            My friends forsake me like a memory lost;

                                                                            I am the self-consumer of my woes....

                                                                            John Clare, c1845

                                                                              [?]Kent Pitman Β» 🌐
                                                                              @kentpitman@climatejustice.social

                                                                              As Climate ratchets,
                                                                              skeptics scoff, still asking proof.
                                                                              Cartoon Physics shield.

                                                                              When none remain to agree,
                                                                              will that be finally Proof?

                                                                                1 ★ 0 ↺

                                                                                [?]OCTADE Β» 🌐
                                                                                @octade@soc.octade.net

                                                                                The Best Poem Ever
                                                                                by Brian Doyle

                                                                                What if, says a small child to me this afternoon,
                                                                                We made a poem without using any words at all?

                                                                                [.....]

                                                                                https://www.christiancentury.org/artsculture/poems/best-poem-ever


                                                                                  [?]AmbientDread Β» 🌐
                                                                                  @ambientdread@toot.io

                                                                                  my lifetime spent on
                                                                                  a painful pilgrimage to
                                                                                  the next place to sit

                                                                                  - pilgrimage





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                                                                                    [?]OCTADE Β» 🌐
                                                                                    @octade@soc.octade.net

                                                                                    Uncageable

                                                                                    From the light of freedom to a concrete tomb,
                                                                                    The fall was great and swift.
                                                                                    My soul cried out in a mighty boom,
                                                                                    How could it come to this?

                                                                                    Clamped down, trapped stuck,
                                                                                    Paralyzed in a tiny cage.
                                                                                    Had fate left me not a drop of luck?
                                                                                    Was there reason for this rage?

                                                                                    Told to lay down and die,
                                                                                    Something deep inside me stirred.
                                                                                    I can’t be caged I have to fly!
                                                                                    Not yet am I interred.

                                                                                    They can take my body, tie me down,
                                                                                    It matters not a bit.
                                                                                    My spirit still runs wild and free,
                                                                                    So in freedom here I sit.

                                                                                    ~ Ross Ulbricht
                                                                                    Apr 30, 2024

                                                                                    It seems his artistic vision finally became reality.

                                                                                    sources

                                                                                    https://freeross.org/uncageable/

                                                                                    https://rossulbricht.substack.com/p/uncageable-poem-and-drawing

                                                                                    @poetry@a.gup.pe @poets@a.gup.pe @writers@a.gup.pe @infostorm@a.gup.pe

                                                                                    Hand drawn image of a man interred in prison. He is kneeling in his cell between the bunk and desk cabinet, envisioning a scene above his head of a couple holding hands and giving thanks over food and a crowd seated together and a couple in the distance holding hands.

                                                                                    Alt...Hand drawn image of a man interred in prison. He is kneeling in his cell between the bunk and desk cabinet, envisioning a scene above his head of a couple holding hands and giving thanks over food and a crowd seated together and a couple in the distance holding hands.