Status Updates From 100 Selected Poems
100 Selected Poems by
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Brok3n
is on page 86 of 121
of all the blessings which to man
kind progress doth impart
one stands supreme i mean the an
imal without a heart.
Huge this collective pseudobeast
(sans either pain or joy)
does nothing except preexist
its hoi in its polloi
— 16 hours, 45 min ago
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kind progress doth impart
one stands supreme i mean the an
imal without a heart.
Huge this collective pseudobeast
(sans either pain or joy)
does nothing except preexist
its hoi in its polloi
Brok3n
is on page 81 of 121
these children singing in stone a
silence of stone these
little children wound with stone
flowers opening for
ever these silently lit
tle children are petals
their song is a flower of
always their flowers
of stone are
silently singing
a song more silent
than silence these always
— Mar 05, 2026 02:51AM
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silence of stone these
little children wound with stone
flowers opening for
ever these silently lit
tle children are petals
their song is a flower of
always their flowers
of stone are
silently singing
a song more silent
than silence these always
Brok3n
is on page 78 of 121
joy was his song and joy so pure
a heart of star by him could steer
and pure so now and now so yes
the wrists of twilight would rejoice
...
My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing)
— Mar 03, 2026 02:50AM
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a heart of star by him could steer
and pure so now and now so yes
the wrists of twilight would rejoice
...
My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing)
Brok3n
is on page 75 of 121
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
...
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
— Mar 02, 2026 04:14AM
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she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
...
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
Brok3n
is on page 67 of 121
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
— Feb 23, 2026 03:17AM
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than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
Brok3n
is on page 62 of 121
down with hell and heaven
and all the religious fuss
infinity pleased our parents
one inch looks good to us
(and Ever-Ever Land is a place
that's measured and safe and known
where it's lucky to be unlucky
and the hitler lies down with the cohn)
down above all with love
and everything perverse
or which makes some feel more better
when all ought to feel less worse
— Feb 18, 2026 03:46AM
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and all the religious fuss
infinity pleased our parents
one inch looks good to us
(and Ever-Ever Land is a place
that's measured and safe and known
where it's lucky to be unlucky
and the hitler lies down with the cohn)
down above all with love
and everything perverse
or which makes some feel more better
when all ought to feel less worse
Brok3n
is on page 59 of 121
eath(having lost)put on his universe
and yawned:it looks like rain
(they've played for timelessness
with chips of when)
that's yours;i guess
you'll have to loan me pain
to take the hearse,
see you again
Love(having found)wound up such pretty toys
as themselves could not know:
the earth tinily whirls;
while daisies grow
(and boys and girls
have whispered thus and so)
and girls with boys
to bed will go,
— Feb 16, 2026 04:06AM
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and yawned:it looks like rain
(they've played for timelessness
with chips of when)
that's yours;i guess
you'll have to loan me pain
to take the hearse,
see you again
Love(having found)wound up such pretty toys
as themselves could not know:
the earth tinily whirls;
while daisies grow
(and boys and girls
have whispered thus and so)
and girls with boys
to bed will go,
