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"waitangi" poems
a thrill to my bones a stud in my nose a piano jam he can't eat ham sometimes it rules believers are fools a religious twist i'm an anarchist we stopped making sense despite our diligence the phone rings your manner stings where are you now? i've searched every cloud it's blue, it's close the cat sleeps in boats scotch on the rocks it can't read clocks we ride, we shake the mug is at stake "wine and dine" "me and mine" the future holds a sadness untold the explorer naps for sheets: his maps the falcon clutches it is what it is celebrate Waitangi Day a sea away or maybe three I don't know. This stopped making sense to me. break the form glue it with salt heart smart cookies 1 cup dried cherries i need you more she needs it now it's busy still hopping on clouds i searched and searched to no avail. the hungry husky barks and wails.
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
blizzard
We can change history miss Clarke, it is easy, just re-write the lies your historians wrote about the early settlers in New Zealand, which if you had any respect for, it would be called Aotearoa, the official Maori name. Tell the world about your nations attempt to eradicate native Maori and what is written at the base of the Obelisk on One Tree Hill by Sir John Logan Campbell. *Laura Clarke is the British high commissioner to New Zealand <> Campbell, like many European New Zealanders of his generation, had expected that Māori would gradually die out and that an impressive memorial would be a most fitting symbol to perpetuate their memory.[19] By the 1930s this had obviously not happened, and some considered the term "memorial" was inappropriate with many Māori objecting to its use. During construction of the obelisk, a suggestion was made that it should be described as a centennial tower to mark the centennial year of the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi and not a memorial.[19] https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/jan/02/heres-why-the-uk-wants-to-strengthen-its-relationship-with-new-zealand-maori Dom Felice Vaggioli The Italian priest who's book on New Zealand was banned by Queen Victoria.
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 3:05 AM UTC
*Laura Clarke
Courtesy food pantries Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's, Our Daily Bread, the missus and yours truly (her spouse) well stocked with good n plenti of soap, shampoo and detergent. Spongebob squarepants would be in seventh heaven, where sudsy clouds (resembling Mister Krabs, Plankton, Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera), would drift across celestial vault. Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue benevolent good samaritans who trend righteous true to the calling of helping hands who renew faith (mine) in goodness of humanity assisting not only yours truly and the missus, but people from South American country named Peru or even indigenous tribes accorded recognition comprising population of inhabitants occupying New Zealand, offered reparations under the Treaty of Waitangi, a process of reparation allowed Maori to be fully recognized at political level in lieu of unfair practices inflicted upon original occupant loosely similar to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel, endowed with (pure tin) pride wishing I too could call myself proud Jew, nevertheless attraction manifests destiny (mine) someday to learn Hebrew. Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism, I need not adopt an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic..., lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm, but only tout poetic justice (mine) to recognize laudable traits linkedin to orthodox faiths, albeit rationalistic rubric that caters to selflessness for no other reason than allowing, enabling, and promoting random acts of kindness without any forthcoming great expectation downplaying remuneration, no matter destitution begot mein kampf hard times living within bleak house slight hyperbolic exaggeration poor as a cheesy church mouse poet. Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion bringing reasonable rhyming blather originating courtesy me noggin, within which wool doth gather thus I a halt and dial down philosophical lather, cuz most likely ye dear reader would rather experience palmolive oil slather preparatory to full body massage.
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Dec 16, 2021
Dec 16, 2021 at 8:39 PM UTC
Bar none, no shortage of soap shampoo, nor detergent
Courtesy food pantries Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's, Our Daily Bread, the missus and yours truly (her spouse) well stocked with good n plenti of soap, shampoo and detergent. Spongebob squarepants would be in seventh heaven, where sudsy clouds (resembling Mister Krabs, Plankton, Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera), would drift across celestial vault. Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue benevolent good samaritans who trend righteous true to the calling of helping hands who renew faith (mine) in goodness of humanity assisting not only yours truly and the missus, but people from South American country named Peru or even indigenous tribes accorded recognition comprising population of inhabitants occupying New Zealand, offered reparations under the Treaty of Waitangi, a process of reparation allowed Maori to be fully recognized at political level in lieu of unfair practices inflicted upon original occupant loosely similar to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel, endowed with (pure tin) pride wishing I too could call myself proud Jew, nevertheless attraction manifests destiny (mine) someday to learn Hebrew. Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism, I need not adopt an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic..., lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm, but only tout poetic justice (mine) to recognize laudable traits linkedin to orthodox faiths, albeit rationalistic rubric that caters to selflessness for no other reason than allowing, enabling, and promoting random acts of kindness without any forthcoming great expectation downplaying remuneration, no matter destitution begot mein kampf hard times living within bleak house slight hyperbolic exaggeration poor as a cheesy church mouse poet. Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion bringing reasonable rhyming blather originating courtesy me noggin, within which wool doth gather thus I a halt and dial down philosophical lather, cuz most likely ye dear reader would rather experience palmolive oil slather preparatory to full body massage.
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