New poem: Birdgazing
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@ -9,7 +9,56 @@
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<name>Vane Vander</name>
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<name>Vane Vander</name>
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<email>vanevander@mayvaneday.org</email>
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<email>vanevander@mayvaneday.org</email>
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</author>
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</author>
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<entry>
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<title>Birdgazing</title>
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/b/birdgazing.txt" />
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<id>https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/b/birdgazing.txt</id>
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<published>2022-04-09</published>
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<summary type="html"><![CDATA[<article>
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<pre>
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I locked eyes with a robin this morning,
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sitting outside my bedroom window
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perched on one of the branches of the bush
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that was once a tree, cut down in fear, still adamant to grow.
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I thought of you, helpless in bed, maybe snoring,
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maybe silent as a hush,
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and how I wished I could be there
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to your exhausted body take care.
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For I gave you everything I had to give
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for you to claim your future back
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under one condition: that, at the end, you live.
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You burnt every candle down,
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dissolved every bathtime bomb,
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spent every rainy day stash
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I had,
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even accepted my blood.
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I wish
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it hadn't taken this
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for you to finally accept
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you were the Equinox,
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the harbinger of balance,
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all along.
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When I'm with you,
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I feel like I've been born anew.
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My mistakes no longer imposing weight,
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the past's pain
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all washed away.
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Or about to be reborn,
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invalid, palliate,
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you gently taking care of me
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until arrives my death date.
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Your touch is so tender, my love,
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healing, magic, sunlight.
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You know I'd do anything for you.
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So let me nurse you back to life.
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</pre>
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</article>]]>
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</summary>
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</entry>
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<entry>
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<entry>
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<title>Clocktower Blitz</title>
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<title>Clocktower Blitz</title>
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/c/clocktower.txt" />
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/c/clocktower.txt" />
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@ -260,65 +309,4 @@ I hope I'm fully with you the next one.
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</summary>
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</summary>
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</entry>
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</entry>
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<entry>
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<title>The Female Urge To...</title>
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<link href="https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/f/female-urge.txt" />
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<id>https://mayvaneday.org/poetry/f/female-urge.txt</id>
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<published>2022-03-11</published>
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<summary type="html"><![CDATA[<article>
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<pre>
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If I was the one most despised,
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then why
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was I
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the one that survived?
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Why did my siblings deign,
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seeing death was imminent
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and Chronos would get his way
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to remake the world in his image,
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decide
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that the one who also destroys
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and has never for a single moment known love
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be the one who the divine
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genocide
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survived?
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Which one of my siblings looked at me and thought
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that what the infant world needed was destruction's favorite god?
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Who spun their ceasing gaze
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towards my way
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and blessed me human so I Chronos forgot?
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It's a gaze I've come
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to become
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familiar with,
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this insistence
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that I'm not a burden,
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that I'm not by presence hurting,
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that to keep breathing I don't have to earn.
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But no matter how many times I fish for my mother's pity,
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I can't bring myself to, when her mouth makes the sound
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that I'm a blessing to all those around,
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her strained declaration believe.
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"But if you knew
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all that I've put people through,
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would you
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still feel the same?"
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Sharpened by heartache,
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tempered by pain,
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forged in despair,
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I, bond-breaking blade?
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*Whatever you did is dead and gone
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and in so many worlds away.
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There are enough armchair Christs.
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Stop self-inflicting pain.*
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</pre>
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</article>]]>
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</summary>
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</entry>
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</feed>
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</feed>
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@ -0,0 +1,46 @@
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Birdgazing
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2022-04-09
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***
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I locked eyes with a robin this morning,
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sitting outside my bedroom window
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perched on one of the branches of the bush
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that was once a tree, cut down in fear, still adamant to grow.
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I thought of you, helpless in bed, maybe snoring,
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maybe silent as a hush,
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and how I wished I could be there
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to your exhausted body take care.
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For I gave you everything I had to give
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for you to claim your future back
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under one condition: that, at the end, you live.
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You burnt every candle down,
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dissolved every bathtime bomb,
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spent every rainy day stash
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I had,
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even accepted my blood.
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I wish
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it hadn't taken this
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for you to finally accept
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you were the Equinox,
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the harbinger of balance,
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all along.
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When I'm with you,
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I feel like I've been born anew.
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My mistakes no longer imposing weight,
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the past's pain
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all washed away.
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Or about to be reborn,
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invalid, palliate,
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you gently taking care of me
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until arrives my death date.
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Your touch is so tender, my love,
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healing, magic, sunlight.
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You know I'd do anything for you.
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So let me nurse you back to life.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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@ -37,6 +37,7 @@
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│ └── <a href="./a/dang-trees.txt">dang-trees.txt</a><br>
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│ └── <a href="./a/dang-trees.txt">dang-trees.txt</a><br>
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├── <a href="./b/">b</a><br>
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├── <a href="./b/">b</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./b/better-version.txt">better-version.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./b/better-version.txt">better-version.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./b/birdgazing.txt">birdgazing.txt</a><br>
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│ └── <a href="./b/blizzard-girl.txt">blizzard-girl.txt</a><br>
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│ └── <a href="./b/blizzard-girl.txt">blizzard-girl.txt</a><br>
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├── <a href="./c/">c</a><br>
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├── <a href="./c/">c</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./c/carmine.txt">carmine.txt</a><br>
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│ ├── <a href="./c/carmine.txt">carmine.txt</a><br>
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@ -171,7 +172,7 @@
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└── <a href="./w/wme.txt">wme.txt</a><br>
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└── <a href="./w/wme.txt">wme.txt</a><br>
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<br><br><p>
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<br><br><p>
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22 directories, 121 files
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22 directories, 122 files
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</p>
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</p>
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<hr>
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<hr>
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