Piper-pipes - Tranarchy - Tumblr Blog

Do you think genies scale their punishments with wish size?

Like obviously the guy who asks to rule the world becomes a dollar or something, and the guy who wishes for a billion dollars is crushed to death by his wealth and that's all well and good. But if you wish for something like fifty bucks maybe you only get your shoe laces tied together or something

Hii :3 I wrote this poem about the new year.

A tall mountain, forever a monument in

Our distance.

The horizon from any direction.

Not monstrous and unending, akin to a legendary snake, Just

Always there

Sometimes welcoming.

I could have never hoped to scale it.

In gentles waves we

Agreed. Unfathomable

Now I stand you.

On this cliff

Which I had, said

No, never with rappel or hoof

or machine.

So I stand here, alone

Barely walking.

Uhhhh hi I wrote this poem, working titles gives all context you need.

Fill in the blank word yourself, please.

Hope you enjoy gotta run n go eat something I'm stoned.

I think the amish might be right.

Time keeps ticking forward, and I'm getting pretty sick of that whole industrial revolution, military industrial complex, hyper predatory capitalism business.

I just want winter to be cold and snowy.

Poem I wrote on shrooms once.

These shifting mosaics

Given life fron inert

Dull

Sands

Do present, in their smooth tone,

These images:

My face, if you are you it is yours,

Lit low by drying, aged yellows

Smiles at you

(or if you are not me, at you).

Historic leaves hide

Below and ancient crime.

Tiny cracks in the plaster

Cast frame.

Your northern guiding star

Hide them true in the clouds.

Beautiful and weightless,

But still constructed,

Made as lies and formed

From stones

Heavy, to protect from the strongest winds.

And more perhaps

Follows.

Is this the future I am to love?

Is this the world they've left me? Is this the last that I have? Parking lots,

Asphalt,

Dead grass?

Ads in the sky

But no snow on the ground.

Forgive the men

Who sold our Autumn chill,

Who sold the paintings in the stars

And who traded Our ends

For a little profit more.

Forgive the men who killed our land, before it was never ours?