#yankees
Harvard’s a black hole, info wise.
So, let’s see.. what’s going on? What’s in the news?
Anything? Anything?
Hot take..
Not to be spicy and negative,
but sometimes i’m too much myself.
Too comfortable, open and vocal.
I can be opinionated.
Who knows who’s listening?
It could be anyone.
“That’s not red, it’s carmine,” I blirt.
There’s a rise and rush of feelings around the table.
FAQs drop, I get treated.
“God, get up and get at me,” I replied, with an unnerving poise.
People love a scene.
Happy 4th of July to Yankees everywhere!
.
.
Only a Fool Would Say That by Ivy
Lovely Day by Elizabeth Mitchell
L'Anamour by Ivy
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slang:
FAQ = told the facts
Treated = attacked
Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025 at 3:08 PM UTC
Bustling corridors, places to go,
you can’t stand still or move too slow.
Make a plan, plot a course,
there’s an entire campus to traverse.
Other things are good to know,
like the best place for lunch
or where the wi-fi’s slow.
Last year, when there was lots of snow,
the Yale tunnel system was the way to go,
to warmly get from A to B,
when paths were dangerously icy.
This year there hasn’t been any snow
it guess it’s global warming, you know
- or that Pacific weather pattern, El Niño?
I miss the Nor'easters and bomb cyclones
the hazardous weather that made Yale seem like home
those storms were something I took for granted
‘Cause I want snow drifts like they have in Canada.
I left Georgia and now I’m feeling cranky
I want the winters God used to inflict on yankees
I remember when blizzards, up north, were doctrinaire
to stop them now isn’t fair - or something else näm-di-'ger.
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 10:14 PM UTC
Yankee Doodle used to speak
Of bravery and freedom
But now most of that is gone
And we are sure to miss them.
Once we stood for righteousness
And peace around the clock.
Now that door is all closed up
And no one dares to knock.
Yankee Doodle lost his mind
And took the country with him.
Now the hardest thing to find
Is any D.C. wisdom.
Yankee doodle we begin
To hide our heads in shame.
Certain politicians here
Have sullied our good name.
We’ve become a people who
Invade and conquer other lands,
Leave them dying in their streets
By our American hands.
Yankee Doodle used to speak
Of bravery and freedom
But now most of that is gone
And we are sure to miss them.
Yankee Doodle it takes years
And decades just to clear up
All the damage greed has done
And even more to cheer up.
Oust and jail these awful men,
Bad thoughts in their noodles.
Let them sit in prison cells
With years to yank their doodles.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
Timothy Yan, that was his name
I miss him, still, 71 years later
I don't know if he's alive now
Nor, really did I know then in 1942
We were kids, he was 11 and now
would be 82 or 83
I don't know if he'd remember me
But, I remember him
and will forever
He was Canadian
He was my best friend
His family was Japanese
We'd come from Ontario, Burlington
Work brought dad west
So, we settled in a suburb of Vancouver
Tim's family had been here for a few years
There weren't a lot of Japanese in Canada
He was the first one I saw
We didn't have any in Burlington
So as I know
We lived on the same street
Went to the same school
He was Canadian
We played baseball, road hockey
football, we were brothers
blood brothers, we were a team
We moved west in 1938
I met him that fall in school
We were instant friends
The day I saw that St. Louis Cardinal hat
stuck in his pocket, all rolled up
He'd be Stan The Man, I'd be Red Russer
He was Syl Apps, I was Sam LoPresti
I was Turk Broda, he was anyone he wanted to be
We were both Joe Di Maggio
We were brothers
I remember the noise first
Great big Army trucks,
Olive green
All up the street
Not just at the Yan place
The Yokishuris, Wans, and Timmy's Aunt too
Soldiers, loading the trucks
We weren't allowed out to see
Notices had been posted though the door
We could only watch and wonder
They were being moved
They scared the powers that be
Little Japanese families
Many born here
Scared the powers of King in Ottawa
And they had to be moved
Inland, to the Okanagan Valley
To Camps, in Canada, their country, Camps
Canada was at war
With it's own people
With 11 year old Timothy Yan
Ever since Pearl Harbour
Ottawa got scared
Japanese fishermen in the west
Japanese fighter planes from the east
There had to be spies in British Columbia
Tim Yan was apparently one of them
They were told their property was safe
All their goods in storage
They were lied to
A month after they left
The auctioneers came in
Everything was sold
Everything...
I hope he kept that hat
Dad bought what he could
So did other neighbours
I still have the boxes
Never opened
Waiting for the Yans,
I miss Joe DiMaggio
I didn't understand it then
And I don't now
My teachers couldn't explain it
My minister said it was the best
That didn' t help either
What best?
Who decided what was best?
Best for who?
It wasn't best for me, or Tim
Nobody asked us
He was just gone
I spent years looking for him
He never came back after the war
They were moved further east
They were sent to Japan
He was from Canada
Why would they send him to Japan
He was gonna be the first Japanese big leaguer
I hope he made it
I grew up and became a lawyer
A citizenship lawyer
This was not going to happen on my watch
To anyone again
Not while I was around
I miss him
He went to war
And never fired a shot
He went to war
And never knew why...
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC