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Bardo May 24
Like a lot of Irish people born back in the 1920's
My parents came from off small farms down the country
Usually their parents died when they were very young... just teenagers
When the parents died the house was usually left to the eldest son
And when he took a wife then the other siblings would have to leave the house
They'd usually have to go live with a cousin
There wasn't much work in those days, there was an economic war with England
And there was no social welfare either, no government support
People often had to emigrate to England or America, they had no alternative
My mother went to live with some relatives
And to learn dressmaking
One of her brothers though had gone off to America (the U.S.A)
He sent her a letter and told her to come over to America
That it was a great place, there was plenty of work and great prosperity to be had
She went on one of the old Liners/ ships that used cross the Atlantic in those days
She probably saw the Statue of Liberty in New York harbour
She loved America, she told me a funny story once about how she liked to eat bananas
There mustn't have been bananas in the shops back home
Or maybe they were too costly
She got a job in a biscuit factory Nabisco, on assembly lines
She couldn't get over the big medical test they gave her before she started
And then when she went to work she said she was working with people who were half blind
She loved going out with her girlfriends to the dances, there were lots of Irish over there from back home
They'd have parties, celebrations, go to the beach, go to the movies, eat out
It was the 1950's, a time of optimism and growing prosperity
She met my Dad over there and they started dating
She got this lovely grey fur coat, probably as a gift, a present
It was like something you would have seen Marilyn Monroe wearing
She loved going to the movies and reading about all the big movie stars
My Dad though wanted to return home to Ireland, he was getting homesick
So they returned home, Ireland was still a poor country then
Hadn't opened up to the world and allowing foreign companies in
There was still a lot of unemployment and finding work could be hard
At first my Mom used wear her lovely grey fur coat to Sunday Mass
But she probably received a lot of funny looks as if to say
"Who do you think you are, a movie star with your big fur coat, some rich *****"
Very soon my mother's fur coat was consigned to the wardrobe never to be worn again
When she passed away my two brothers came down to the house, they were telling me I should get rid of all her old clothes, they then seen the old fur coat in the wardrobe
"Oh, there's Mammy's old fur coat, you should throw that out as well"
I was looking at the coat and it reminded me of the old Red Indian movies
Where they'd be sleeping with a big bearskin over them
I'd taken to sleeping on the couch in the Wintertime in my TV room where I also worked as it was lovely and warm
I said to myself "No! I'm not going to throw that out, I'm going to use that as a blanket over me, it's like a big bearskin just like the Indians"
One day at work I was telling some of my work colleagues the story of my Mom's old fur coat
I was embellishing the story a bit
Instead of saying I was using it as a blanket over me
I said I'd put it on sometimes as it was lovely and warm
One of my colleagues was shocked by this, she said "What!! You wear your dead mother's fur coat !!!
I smiled a funny smile and said "It's a bit like that old Alfred Hitchcock film, isn't it ?
Yea!...  ******! LoL
My mum once told me that her own mother before her had been to America (the USA), that would have been around the turn of the century (1900's) which
would have been only a few generations removed from the time of the Famine (1845 -1852), makes you think.
Hardship = Resent
Resent = Dedication To Change
Dedication = Hard Work,
Hard Work = Change
Change = Prosperity
Prosperity = Abundance
Abundance = Entitlement
Entitlement = Laziness
Laziness = Procrastination
Procrastination = Back Tracking
Back Tracking = Hardship
Hardship = Reform
Reform = Hard Workers

Repeat Cycle Again
We are on our way to back tracking.
Austin Morrison Nov 2024
To my younger self,
You’re probably skating through the streets,
Wheels humming like a heartbeat,
Lost in the rush of wind and freedom.
Keep that feeling close—it doesn’t fade.
Not everything needs to.
I’m doing okay, believe it or not.
No, I’m not the artist or the adventurer you dreamed of,
But I’ve found a place,
A job that isn’t perfect but offers a path,
Even if it’s not the one we mapped out.
And guess what?
The games still bring joy,
The same crew still laughing, still losing hours
To worlds that feel bigger than this one.
It’s okay to stay young,
To carry the fire of your wild ideas.
There’s no clock chasing you,
No race to be someone else’s version of grown.
Breathe.
Things move forward, even when they hurt.


But now to you, my future self—
I have to confess something.
That comfort I just offered? It’s a half-truth.
Right now, it’s hard.
Harder than I let the past know.
The days blur,
And the nights are loud with questions
I can’t seem to answer.
I want to ask you what to do—
What path to take, what risk to make—
But I already know your answer:
Keep going.
It’s the only advice we’ve ever trusted, isn’t it?
I don’t know what you will look like,
If the years have been kind to your reflection Or just heavier in their weight.
I don’t know where you stand,
What city, what job, what life you’ll claim as your own.
But I do know this:
No matter how lost I feel,
No matter how hard it gets,
I’ll keep trying, keep pushing.
Not for the world,
Not even for the past me
But for you.
So that one day,
You’ll look back and know
I did my best to get us here.
Yours,
The in-between,
The uncertain,
The still-trying.
My mind is like a garden
And I tend to it each day
Choosing what I plant inside
And what must leave or stay

I sow the seeds of kindness
And water with gentle care
Weeding out the hate and fear
With confidence and prayer

I pull the weeds of worry
That choke the seeds of love
So only good grows in my plot
With warmth from God above

I harvest what I daily plant
But after time has passed
For gardens require patience
To reap the prize at last

Your mind is like a garden
So tend to it each day
Choosing what you plant inside
And what must leave or stay

For every thought is like a seed
That shapes your joys or fears
So tend well to your garden’s heart
For blessings through your years
You can see this poem on a background here - https://prosperitypoems.com/delivery147MyMindIsLikeAGarden.html
the wind's whisper was
a romance of sound

satin sheets
shifting
softly
sliding
between her legs
with each gentle tug of his
her marble skin was the rapture
of his innocence
and the oarsmen
of his temptations
rowing him along
toward her
between her nubile legs

and he felt
for once
not like an invader
a Viking
a barbarian
trudging over the mountains
with lust arming his flesh
for the takings to
come

no

he felt
like a father
dutiful

yet also
like a son
respectful - obedient

yet truly, he was
her lover
who had mastered her platonic whims,
sacrifices, and conditions;
earned her trust
earned her surrender
and her, his
and her, his undying, unabashed love
devotion
humility
honor
reciprocal instincts
romantic intuitions
senses of guardianship and homage
faith...

for, he felt stronger
bedding her this day
than any woman before her
stronger
than any promise of affection
any kiss
any trust

for, she had conquered him
passionately
patiently
enduringly, with love
convincing him - resoundingly
that her heart was solely HIS

for that day,
with her inviting him into her womb
that was the start of their honeymoon
the firmament
the consummation
of their oath to love
and eternity
humanity

with no remorse for their matrimonial union...
no fear
no sorrow
no misery
no end
I wrote this as a Twitter poem last year, on the 28th of December.

Enjoy!

DEW
With the fiat system of money printing
     It’s possible to receive money without
          The creation of any value for anyone.
               These messed up incentives entice
                    Some in politics and power realms
                         To get close to the printing of new
                              Money in order to steal this wealth
                                   Therefore
                              Let’s move to a money system with
                         Aligned incentives where people only
                    Receive money as they create real
                Value and wealth for others in the
           Free market, leading to prosperity
     Based on hard work and creativity.
Bitcoin is this aligned value solution
You can see this poem on a background here - https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery108MoneyWithoutValue.html
Chelsea Quigley Mar 2024
I envision a dream,
Created by me.
Of a boat floating
Along a gentle sea.
No waves to see,
Nor fish I seize.
Just one with myself,

And finally at ease.
Chelsea Quigley Dec 2023
My lover,
Don't let go.
From sun to snow,
Through seasons
We flow.

Please , don’t let go.

Let hearts be full
In times of dull.
For time shall still
As our souls fill,

With love and light for you and I.

Now take my hand,
If you will.

And don't let go.
Zywa Dec 2023
He eats well, just look,

my phalanx fits easily --


in his navel hole.
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 1-6 "Many-headed monsters"

Collection "Low gear [2]"
Fiat money is unsound money
   Because governments can print
      More of this money at low or no cost
         The printing of more money is so easy
            That those in power can never resist the
               Urge to create new money for their use
                   The fiat supply remains unpredictable
                       Therefore
                    Let’s use a money with known supply
               The solution is to create a limited money
            That has a cost to the creation of units
         This money would be sound if no group
      Or person has the option to issue new
   Money beyond what was programmed
You can see this poem on a background here https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery045SoundMoney.html.  This is the ninth poem in the problems and solutions series.
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