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#melville
The whale is a fish and a mammal in one As white has all colors and also has none                The grandest of creatures                With paradox features Unknown and untouched by the light of the sun
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Aug 28, 2024
Aug 28, 2024 at 1:48 AM UTC
The Way of the White Whale
Shaking my head as I shuffle through Nod And wander through darkness on scabrous old feet Where the fruits are forbidden, and might I add strictly But the knowledge is ever so sweet I’m Under the Influence of sir Malcolm L And M. L. von Franz has me under her spell Seeking the change that I wish I could be While my dear inner Ahab I struggle to quell To search by escaping through tropics and trenches Determined to make every ocean my home My singular purpose: the potion that quenches Still I drink that I could theme alone In this watering hole will I bury my hatchets A sickness that’s cured is an ailment forgotten So choke every sorrow and drown your regrets A soul that remembers is cursed to go rotten With penalties and interest forever compounded I’m astounded to watch how my recollection grows The proverbial wisdom that’s also called madness Is purchased on credit and paid for with woes Drifting asea to steer clear of collectors Engulfed instead by tempests my own Echoing voices demanding comeuppance From the depth comes a cry that disturbs every bone These howling reminders are issued below From under the surface by more than a beast My pirates on deck keep me bound to the mast Always in earshot and never released Mostly a head but with hardly a face My nemesis, massive, can scarcely be seen Not to be measured through time or in space From his cousins’ cadavers our data we glean Less than a man, I stomp on my stump And promise to silence the primitive brute Guided by starlight, unable to sleep Harpoon at the ready and eager to shoot **** the torpedoes and to hell with the crew Set sail at once for the wide open blue Don’t be seduced by this monster in white His message is wicked, no less than it’s true He feeds on your anger, you’re never too old To listen instead of exerting your tongue Or shaking the hinges of Davy Jones’ locker On the floor of the ocean where Melville met Jung
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Aug 15, 2024
Aug 15, 2024 at 5:14 PM UTC
Out of my depth
Shaking my head as I shuffle through Nod And wander through darkness on scabrous old feet Where the fruits are forbidden, and might I add strictly But the knowledge is ever so sweet I’m Under the Influence of sir Malcolm L And M. L. von Franz has me under her spell Seeking the change that I wish I could be While my dear inner Ahab I struggle to quell To search by escaping through tropics and trenches Determined to make every ocean my home My singular purpose: the potion that quenches Still I drink that I could theme alone In this watering hole will I bury my hatchets A sickness that’s cured is an ailment forgotten So choke every sorrow and drown your regrets A soul that remembers is cursed to go rotten With penalties and interest forever compounded I’m astounded to watch how my recollection grows The proverbial wisdom that’s also called madness Is purchased on credit and paid for with woes Drifting asea to steer clear of collectors Engulfed instead by tempests my own Echoing voices demanding comeuppance From the depth comes a cry that disturbs every bone These howling reminders are issued below From under the surface by more than a beast My pirates on deck keep me bound to the mast Always in earshot and never released Mostly a head but with hardly a face My nemesis, massive, can scarcely be seen Not to be measured through time or in space From his cousins’ cadavers our data we glean Less than a man, I stomp on my stump And promise to silence the primitive brute Guided by starlight, unable to sleep Harpoon at the ready and eager to shoot **** the torpedoes and to hell with the crew Set sail at once for the wide open blue Don’t be seduced by this monster in white His message is wicked, no less than it’s true He feeds on your anger, you’re never too old To listen instead of exerting your tongue Or shaking the hinges of Davy Jones’ locker On the floor of the ocean where Melville met Jung
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Done with thinking because that's for god to do I am just this appendage of a greater consciousness Ahab is blameless in his small existence Don't quote me quote Herman and Freddy Nietzsche They and their hermits coming down from the mountains to declare they ought to have loved their fate all along Amor fati Why couldn't we have been stuck in the herd all along guys who get love and happiness effortless no need to spend their life in anguish searching through tomes found in tombs for eons and eons enhancing their social aloofness and their unremembered trauma 'till those sad souls give those pansies confidence to leave an exegesis of their own Too smart kid that decried Christ and the shadows of a god all around only to find the search for truth was hopeless Find a way to dumbly enjoy life again and you only say again cause that's all we can control our memories and we too often forget our thought habits the pre-neolithic mind tricks on ourselves Too many MLMs profiting off false mindfulness missing the point beyond exercise and short stress relief Change your thought patterns to love your destiny That's the best we have to pretend to have control in this ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ hole
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Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 8:49 AM UTC
Pyramid Coach
“Moby ****  Herman Melville <•> ~for the lost at sea~ after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence, return to the island caught between two land forks surrounded by river-heading flows bound for the ocean great joining the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools, bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances, peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls sea accepts them then drowns the warm newcomers in the unaccustomed deep cold salinity, which sometimes erodes sometimes preserving their former freshwater cold originality I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed, no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed, walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom, no depth perception limitation, reading the floor’s topography, millions of minion’s stories infinite, many Munch screaming god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders, a daytime travel guide, hired for me, not a friendly travel companion,  nope, God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation, designated for the masses, can handle large parties my in-camera brain  eyes, record everything for playback - the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles walk shore to ship, on soles to souls, is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting? puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness, conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep, is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence, my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored, older visions clarified and future poems will write themselves and sea to it my predecessors be better remembered Memorial Day 2018
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May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
“the sea... jeeringly...drowned the infinite of his soul...to wondrous depths...he saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom and spake it”
“Moby ****  Herman Melville <•> ~for the lost at sea~ after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence, return to the island caught between two land forks surrounded by river-heading flows bound for the ocean great joining the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools, bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances, peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls sea accepts them then drowns the warm newcomers in the unaccustomed deep cold salinity, which sometimes erodes sometimes preserving their former freshwater cold originality I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed, no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed, walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom, no depth perception limitation, reading the floor’s topography, millions of minion’s stories infinite, many Munch screaming god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders, a daytime travel guide, hired for me, not a friendly travel companion,  nope, God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation, designated for the masses, can handle large parties my in-camera brain  eyes, record everything for playback - the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles walk shore to ship, on soles to souls, is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting? puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness, conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep, is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence, my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored, older visions clarified and future poems will write themselves and sea to it my predecessors be better remembered Memorial Day 2018
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