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Poem (yes I was the faggot Virgo puppet)


Posts: 2504

It's seeing so much in the things that people toss away, I'll tell you what it is.I see old fabric in the river or sewer, I see a new rug, or a basket, or curtains, or a quilt, pillow, plush, I see a possible new dress in the waterway, which might be gotten to through bleaching, coloring, sewing, and love. I see a milk container and think about a beautiful perch room, or a window box, or a toy or an instrument, or a pleasant cap, or potential crate segments, or softening together,making new fastens, shoes, or blocks.

 

I made buttons out of old bottle caps the other day, melting them down into a shape using my own process.

 

I made the holes with a hammer and nails, then colored the button with nail polish I found in the rubbish, making it beautiful and sparkling. I see old fishing line and I see the most grounded string, I see bottle caps and I see jewelery or wheels for toy vehicles or little gemstones, the makings of a pill sorter, small boxes, and that is just the simplest of it. 

 

I see a void deserted parking lot and I see a garden, a park, or a spot to make chalk craftsmanship, or a mysterious rock garden, a half done skate park, the ideal spot for a playground, a spot to have a decent food truck, a farmers market. I need to spread my arms and embrace the fortunes of the world, I see junk and I see materials, potential, a learning experience. With 1,000,000 plastic containers I could construct a strong house, a little boat, another fence, nourishment for mushrooms, miniature closed ecosystems, gears and other machine parts, a standing divider garden, hydroponics framework, shoes, a fruit picker, dolls, a cylinder, Bangles, a buoy, the covering for a lake, a floating island garden, a plastic roap, plastic chord a pool, furniture, a fence, a bike, a scateboard, financial opportunity, a green house. Please God give me a spot I can keep the fortunes of the world. 

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Posts: 2504
0 votes RE: Poem (yes I was the faggot Virgo puppet)

No one sees my secret garden, under the telephone poles. No one's sees my secret garden and no one needs to know. This garden isn't hidden away, it's right in front of your face. It's really right there out in plain sight, in a public place. 

 

It's made from tender lovely crops crops that no one ever sees, this is because I have no land to grow any veggies. No one cares for the dandelion or for her tender root. Her sees easily take in soil and up her young leaves shoot. 

 

Lamb quarters, wild phlox, and wild onion to.

 

Wild carrots, the lovely merits, of dead nettle to. 

 

Clover, sorrel, even more, and some surprise guests. 

 

And it's easy to see, the biodiversity, is one thing I like best.

 

I'll pluck the harvest, from these plants, their own seeds I have sewn.

 

The delicacy of a sawtooth violet is a secret little known.

 

So if youd like a brand new garden, but don't have the land rights. 

 

You might just find, a garden plot, that's hidden in plain sight.

 

Don't grow tomatoes, no cucumbers, nothing they will steal, or others try to tie you down, they don't see the appeal. 

 

So keep your garden hidden looking like a mass of weeds, and you will have all of the produce you could ever need.

 

 Tend to it when no one's looking, keep your veggies always cooking, gather them up on a bunch, let no one notice when you rush, the "grasses" need your gentle touch, then what you reaps almost to much

 

 Enjoy the food, my friend it's free, the earth she gives to you and me, let's help the birds, and the woodbees, and nurture up, a tasty treat, it is Earth's gifts that we shall eat.

 

Dandelion honey was never this sweet.

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Posts: 2504
0 votes RE: Poem (yes I was the faggot Virgo puppet)

We reside forever hidden, locked inside, in our inner turmoil is where we all reside, 

But now I feel the time for all of us to step aside, now together in a trance, we go through life as we dance, there isn't need for "brilliance" in a glorious circumstance, 

So take your finger to the thread, there isn't need that we be lead, by confusion, a loose string, for not exist when angels sing, to break illusion let the bells ring. We are the angels as we sing. 

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Posts: 2504
0 votes RE: Poem (yes I was the faggot Virgo puppet)

 As the tree is to the physical realm of things, her blossoms are to time, as the blossoms are ever changing and an aspect of the body of the tree, therefore the tree, ever changing. The blossoms fall, no longer cleaving onto the branches, no longer Existing in that realm:

but the tree is forever changed by the bloom that was there.And the same tree as it was is no longer so. And new buds spring to life, soon blooming. Each bloom infinite in the fleetingness of it's time upon the tree

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last edit on 1/25/2022 7:14:56 PM
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