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"leviathan" poems
Behold! The great Leviathan, with teeth of steel, with feet of clay. Subjected to this giant's whim, the sweet sojourn of life decays, Infected now, we lie and skim; while markets mire mother's way, rejected reason, presses on, to try again another day.
0
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
Industry
I still don't sleep well at night sometimes. I miss you, whoever you are, or maybe I just miss having someone close to me I can put all of this love into, an outlet for my affection. Whatever the case, I spend my waking moments wondering where you are and my moments asleep wondering when. It's honestly getting harder to tell the difference between the two, the two infinite worlds of possibility where wild, unexpected things happen. Or don't. Sometimes the reality is more interesting than the dream. There's a certain sense of tranquil quiet when you're lonely that I can only appreciate for about 5 minutes before my heart grips against its iron bars, looking for a key or a file or a spoon to leap its way out of my chest to freedom and adventure. It writes Morse code letters on skipped heartbeats to you, but I am a miserable translator and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for my past, for all the wrongs I've committed in the nebulous black leviathan night, the almost-nightmare state of bleariness and hypnotic suggestibility. Clarity only comes when you spirit your marble curved likeness in the warm wooded embrace I do so long for in waking life. I ramble and you float away, O kind angel of faint hope, white stone wings beating tremendously in sync like the buzzer of an alarm clock, striking me asleep again for daylight, somnambulating across the barren black-tar desert in search of water and finding only more black sand. The nights have become more torturous without your colorless gaze. Please get here soon so I can tell you about how I've known you all my life. With fondest regards, Christian
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Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
Sleepless Nights Without You
I still don't sleep well at night sometimes. I miss you, whoever you are, or maybe I just miss having someone close to me I can put all of this love into, an outlet for my affection. Whatever the case, I spend my waking moments wondering where you are and my moments asleep wondering when. It's honestly getting harder to tell the difference between the two, the two infinite worlds of possibility where wild, unexpected things happen. Or don't. Sometimes the reality is more interesting than the dream. There's a certain sense of tranquil quiet when you're lonely that I can only appreciate for about 5 minutes before my heart grips against its iron bars, looking for a key or a file or a spoon to leap its way out of my chest to freedom and adventure. It writes Morse code letters on skipped heartbeats to you, but I am a miserable translator and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for my past, for all the wrongs I've committed in the nebulous black leviathan night, the almost-nightmare state of bleariness and hypnotic suggestibility. Clarity only comes when you spirit your marble curved likeness in the warm wooded embrace I do so long for in waking life. I ramble and you float away, O kind angel of faint hope, white stone wings beating tremendously in sync like the buzzer of an alarm clock, striking me asleep again for daylight, somnambulating across the barren black-tar desert in search of water and finding only more black sand. The nights have become more torturous without your colorless gaze. Please get here soon so I can tell you about how I've known you all my life. With fondest regards, Christian
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6
i. Mine Dame Unfasten mine cream pigment barong; Scuff the tiny button's, serenadeth me with Tagalog. ii. None need for baon Where we shalt go is not strained by materialism; This is not a place of Balaam. iii. Mother-naked, ourn quiddity's latched None leviathan demonic's, no human electronic's; Mine darling, hug closely, none murrain pain's to be hatched. iv. Mine foremost, drinketh with me Amour's Buko juice as a toast; A barkada of high-up angelic's to guide ourn ghost's. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poets poetry ©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 7:44 PM UTC
Unfasten mine barong
The greatest challenge my nature presents: Love is harder to find Hate is easier to find Within myself and others Is rejection different for me? Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again The intention is clear The existence of my attraction Is grotesque beyond redemption I thought I loved you... When appreciation comes my way It's superficiality amuses me Because I know all that needs to happen Is breaking down the wall to my mind Or unlocking the door to my heart And those appreciators will transform into detractors Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel Not finding women gross frustrates me Because I have no reference point For why people hate me so much Which provides a reference point For why I hate myself so much It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation But there's no way people could understand The daily subtle nuances Why should they? I don't constantly consider their lives either Even if someone tried to comprehend my life I'm not sure it's possible I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed I display my emotions Disgust I shroud my emotions Indifference I **** my emotions Hatred Is there no escape? Even with sanctuaries along the way Life feels like Everybody swims in the ocean While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone? Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator It gets so cold and dark down here I forage for crumbs only at night Mortally afraid of human contact For I know that the boot follows the light And why not? In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion How much consideration should a real human show to a lowly maggot like me When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
0
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
Loneliness
The greatest challenge my nature presents: Love is harder to find Hate is easier to find Within myself and others Is rejection different for me? Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again The intention is clear The existence of my attraction Is grotesque beyond redemption I thought I loved you... When appreciation comes my way It's superficiality amuses me Because I know all that needs to happen Is breaking down the wall to my mind Or unlocking the door to my heart And those appreciators will transform into detractors Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel Not finding women gross frustrates me Because I have no reference point For why people hate me so much Which provides a reference point For why I hate myself so much It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation But there's no way people could understand The daily subtle nuances Why should they? I don't constantly consider their lives either Even if someone tried to comprehend my life I'm not sure it's possible I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed I display my emotions Disgust I shroud my emotions Indifference I **** my emotions Hatred Is there no escape? Even with sanctuaries along the way Life feels like Everybody swims in the ocean While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone? Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator It gets so cold and dark down here I forage for crumbs only at night Mortally afraid of human contact For I know that the boot follows the light And why not? In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion How much consideration should a real human show to a lowly maggot like me When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
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54
She is the Devil Standing in the Doorway Constantly reminding me of the Debt I've yet to pay She looks like Heaven Divine and Catastrophic Hellcat and Rogue Apostate Tells me, "There's Hell to Pay." Gotta find a way Gotta get away I'm in deep too and there's Hell to Pay She is Satan in a Red Dress and Six-Inch Stilletto Heels Crimson-Colored Lipstick With matching Sharpened Nails Her Clawmarks in my Skin Remind me every day That my soul belongs to Her, and there's still Hell to Pay Gotta find a way Gotta get away I'm in too deep and there's Hell to Pay She is the One Unholy She is the Queen of Time Her Love Burns on Eternal in the Furnace of my Mind My Spirit is her Claim From now until the End of Daze Ours are the Hearts of Evil And still there's Hell to Pay Gotta find a way Gotta get away Running outta days until there's Hell to Pay Leviathan Cross Forever in Her Flesh Her Eyes, Ablaze with Hellfire Gaze into the Abyss No Matter how Savagely I Ravage Her and Damage Her She always Returns for yet another Massacre. Gotta find a way Gotta get away Running outta days until there's Hell to Pay
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
Hell to Pay
Will a Phoenix doused in water reignite? Should the Sun ever disturb the night? As my eyes take their rest my mind takes flight Then quickly plummets straight into blight Straight into sorrow; reigniting my rage And keeps me awake as if it were day Awake to write my story/Awake to dwell on the last page How dare I wallow over someone engaged? Great Leviathan, Demon God of water and life Lend me your strength as I overcome this strife Baptize me in your waters and revitalize my sight Clear away all the salt and callus to turn my scleras white Drown the anger in my heart; cease its return! **** the Phoenix, for its presence burns! Drown the Sun so that the moon may take its turn Allow my brain to rest so that I may have the capacity learn How to fully move on…
0
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
It's been too long
Jesus Christ, Lord Almighty Expel my demons and watch them die with me Satan Lord, Leviathan Give my demons an interesting origin Plague me with poets smoking joints rolled with rejected poems Fill my thoughts with cockney accented thespians Let them hold Academy award nominations from films long forgotten Enthuse my self-destruction Bring me goth kids brought up in wholesome homes Bring me Art school students choosing to abandon their degrees Bring me women aroused by smashed clocks Bring me men aroused by awkward teenagers Bring me Christians questioning their faith Lord Almighty, God, Yahweh, Jehovah Tell me the story of your disagreements with Vishnu Let me see Moloch's disgruntlement and subsequent drunk and disorderly Show me when Hera was seducing your nephew Bring me into the world of the soap opera battles Write to me Paris Write to me Paris I want to read your poetry I want to read your mind Sing to me Helen Embrace me and we shall escape from torments Heavenly and humane We shall watch hipsters walk past us Smoking Spirits and drinking poison berry teas Let Adam grow disgruntled Let children laugh If, Lord Jesus, you grant me my wish Send me a djinn with evil in his heart Who's bound to be annoyed by my desires Send me an ent to lift me above my world Send me an elf to love me for all my time Send me a mountain to travel over home Transport me to Germany Transport me to Spain Transport me to New Zealand Give me a free pass, one-way ticket to Darwin's islands Write my story so that I collect new, unprecedented species And devour the flesh of my find Hide me in Antarctica with a monstrous creation of my own mind Let me eat Let me gorge Then starve me Show me Caligula Show me Marilyn Monroe Then leave me with Ed Wood And force me to watch his films so that I may inherit my grandfather's fortune in comic books Which, of course, will bring her to love me again Oh Lord Jesus Lord of Hosts Possess me so that I may live again
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Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
I'm not neurotic or depressed, but I find myself full of Drive with nowhere to go with it
Jesus Christ, Lord Almighty Expel my demons and watch them die with me Satan Lord, Leviathan Give my demons an interesting origin Plague me with poets smoking joints rolled with rejected poems Fill my thoughts with cockney accented thespians Let them hold Academy award nominations from films long forgotten Enthuse my self-destruction Bring me goth kids brought up in wholesome homes Bring me Art school students choosing to abandon their degrees Bring me women aroused by smashed clocks Bring me men aroused by awkward teenagers Bring me Christians questioning their faith Lord Almighty, God, Yahweh, Jehovah Tell me the story of your disagreements with Vishnu Let me see Moloch's disgruntlement and subsequent drunk and disorderly Show me when Hera was seducing your nephew Bring me into the world of the soap opera battles Write to me Paris Write to me Paris I want to read your poetry I want to read your mind Sing to me Helen Embrace me and we shall escape from torments Heavenly and humane We shall watch hipsters walk past us Smoking Spirits and drinking poison berry teas Let Adam grow disgruntled Let children laugh If, Lord Jesus, you grant me my wish Send me a djinn with evil in his heart Who's bound to be annoyed by my desires Send me an ent to lift me above my world Send me an elf to love me for all my time Send me a mountain to travel over home Transport me to Germany Transport me to Spain Transport me to New Zealand Give me a free pass, one-way ticket to Darwin's islands Write my story so that I collect new, unprecedented species And devour the flesh of my find Hide me in Antarctica with a monstrous creation of my own mind Let me eat Let me gorge Then starve me Show me Caligula Show me Marilyn Monroe Then leave me with Ed Wood And force me to watch his films so that I may inherit my grandfather's fortune in comic books Which, of course, will bring her to love me again Oh Lord Jesus Lord of Hosts Possess me so that I may live again
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53
She swam all over me and I was fishing in her dreams and I was fishing in her jeans for change and sunken treasures with her pale skin and scales she sang of the primordial sea and swelled of the deep deep inside the levis thin this leviathan groaned with pants and moans and I was finishing in her dreams and I was finishing in her jeans So I swam away from her into the belly of the beast and she sank beneath the waves and left me in my wake
0
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
Oneiric Pieces of Pisces
There is nothing here Not the façade of a façade Can’t you see our idea fading? We thought we were Hobbes’ Leviathan The modern alchemists of state We’re nothing more than rodents! Scurrilous, maladapted membranes Spewing from democracy forth Ought they to encapsulate us? They must needs encapsulate the naïve! Whiling away at the trough as though livestock I’m to be ground on the wheel regardless; Nay, stretched on the rack of modernity! By the comforts of progress and superficiality Sought after as if vital By the people, “We the people!” Rallying cry for throngs, imprisoning themselves With society, a subtle hocus pocus The trite, aged argument Of those who’d force you build your very tenement Paying rent to breathe, Countless yet believe Tripartite consumer, greed and slavery Surrounding you and me Separating ignorance from squalor In a ghetto of the mind You're right, we're alright
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Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
We're Al(l-)Right
Manila is beautiful at night, Seen from overhead, high above rainclouds in the night sky with a tantalizing view of car exhaust and the debris of broken dreams Manila is beautiful at night. It comes and goes like a shadow in flickering light. At first, it hides behind wispy rain clouds, playful as a child hiding in his mother's skirt. If you look closely, it's lights glisten-- golden and teasing It's incessant winking, an almost promise of what's to come From your aerial vantage point, you wonder: "This is what it must be like to be an Angel when they fly" Below the city, with all it's secrets, sprawls like a handful: A rich lady's heirloom diamonds, thrown carelessly on a ***** floor. It will somehow remind you of a creature: perhaps human, or Leviathan in it's wake Cities, after all, are their own specie of living things At first it is looks like a Brain, with neurons and synapses electric and active Certain spots of the city: mall compelexes and large parking lots, like the nuclei of a brain cell the roads that lead to and fro, the cars zipping up and down in red and yellow lines remind you of dendrites and axons, stretching far They communicate with each other in their own language; a code Your imagination runs wild with untamed fantasy On next glance, it looks like a heart. The whole city pulses magnificently in unison it seems. Thud, thud. Thud, thud. You feel it? Your heart follows it's tantalizing rhythmic pattern, it's muscle beats Though and through the city pumps it's lifeblood into each nook and cranny Oh how it entices your passion so. At last you seem to hear it breathing. Listen closely and hear Manila inhale and exhale in steady tunes Inhale, and exhale-- a silence comes over you, And it's strangely reminiscent of amazement, excitement and bitter fear Your ears dull and you listen to the rush of air in your lungs, the deep drum bass of the pounding of your heart the dizzying feeling that exists in your brain Manila really is beautiful at night. In the shroud of darkness, it rises from slumber; Vivacious and lovely, it's seductive and free Manila is lovely. Manila is a woman, as it should be.
0
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
Pearl City (Part One)
Manila is beautiful at night, Seen from overhead, high above rainclouds in the night sky with a tantalizing view of car exhaust and the debris of broken dreams Manila is beautiful at night. It comes and goes like a shadow in flickering light. At first, it hides behind wispy rain clouds, playful as a child hiding in his mother's skirt. If you look closely, it's lights glisten-- golden and teasing It's incessant winking, an almost promise of what's to come From your aerial vantage point, you wonder: "This is what it must be like to be an Angel when they fly" Below the city, with all it's secrets, sprawls like a handful: A rich lady's heirloom diamonds, thrown carelessly on a ***** floor. It will somehow remind you of a creature: perhaps human, or Leviathan in it's wake Cities, after all, are their own specie of living things At first it is looks like a Brain, with neurons and synapses electric and active Certain spots of the city: mall compelexes and large parking lots, like the nuclei of a brain cell the roads that lead to and fro, the cars zipping up and down in red and yellow lines remind you of dendrites and axons, stretching far They communicate with each other in their own language; a code Your imagination runs wild with untamed fantasy On next glance, it looks like a heart. The whole city pulses magnificently in unison it seems. Thud, thud. Thud, thud. You feel it? Your heart follows it's tantalizing rhythmic pattern, it's muscle beats Though and through the city pumps it's lifeblood into each nook and cranny Oh how it entices your passion so. At last you seem to hear it breathing. Listen closely and hear Manila inhale and exhale in steady tunes Inhale, and exhale-- a silence comes over you, And it's strangely reminiscent of amazement, excitement and bitter fear Your ears dull and you listen to the rush of air in your lungs, the deep drum bass of the pounding of your heart the dizzying feeling that exists in your brain Manila really is beautiful at night. In the shroud of darkness, it rises from slumber; Vivacious and lovely, it's seductive and free Manila is lovely. Manila is a woman, as it should be.
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37
To crave gold and power is not my way, Or so I tell myself— To live without fear— Like the Leviathan, unseen, unknown, Yet devouring all in silence. I may be a beast of my own, Or maybe that’s just what they say, Yet a toothless fool, Am I weak, or was I made to believe so? A feeble truth, Drowned within the lie.
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Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 5:42 AM UTC
no reason
Beast surfacing, the geyser blows sea-spume that sudden, broaching, slows to blue, then falls, no prim fountain or ticking clock, Leviathan counting decades at formal intervals. On benches over rising thermals that reach to roast us, faithful, waiting, we cheer the act of hesitation before the final curtain -- though, see, the trick's just heat, just gravity. Almost enough, I hear you say -- this tidal flame, this awe-filled day, as mists dissolve and quick steam clears and cools and sinks, for years, years.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
Yellowstone, 1985
A man he wrote the book A book for all and none About a life spent leaning Leaning towards the sun In search of all a greatness  His life a distant run A battle for a giant He reaches for the sun On a field of giants Merely flesh and blood He disregards the mismatch And stretches for the sun Life the fiercest battle A war that’s never won Commits his life to reaching Reaching for the sun He asks the aged pastor     Disillusioned as the nun Confides in self and marches on Onward towards the sun Saw life and fortune a lady Took a chance with love Traded breast and beauty Traded it for the sun His only life a sacrifice A gamble for a goal With faith and strength he pushes on He strains his empty soul Tried to be a good man Emulates Christ the son Grounded broken wings he ***** Tragically towards the sun To advance the course of history Alexander, Caesar, the *** A martyr for the western world He reaches for the sun To hold the mighty leviathan With gear to catch a cod Born with a head of a ******* He aspires to be a god And oh his quest does beckon Failure certain done What else can he do He reaches for the sun To god he clings his anchor Sworn service to God and Son Hopelessly he leans Leaning towards the son
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Leaning Towards the Sun
Into the peachy clouds A strawberry sunset spreads some light We track across the chili fields And climb aboard the gravy night A chocolate pond reflects a moon Tall hedges show the way A startled pheasant chucks alarm A pigeon ***** and flies away An unseen owl shrieks hello Foxes cough their husky bark The dapper badger stirs below The night shift claims the dark The ploughman works on through the night Engine roaring, blazing lights In his power-walking leviathan Guided by the satellites On we go, the village near We'll find a welcome there An inglenook, a glowing hearth A pint of hoppy beer.
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Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
England
Avian slave beneath arrays of decay Beneath the will to move on She is so rusted and gone Afar from quintessence crossed Into the realm of the lost Slipped into the clutch of the maw Of madness it’s savage Where the judge is the jury Executioners laugh at the magnanimous Everything stripped from the flesh Nothing left to see but a dejected show in the throes of wreckage Because these lost prophets sit upon a stolen perch looking down on a fallen goddess A desecrated figure devoid of any promise The primary custodian of a land forever conquered A society gripped in the chokehold of despair Perpetual attunement to ruin consumes a flock of sheep in the leviathan’s lair And the pretty little songbird Torn asunder by each verse Learns that from her inception She never was a free bird
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Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 5:58 AM UTC
Freebird
Gray mountain concrete        elephant underpass groans on six foot wide legs               bones of steel        re-bar bend and break As it all begins to crumble in the cold November sun Leviathan highways    strangle the hills       with cold grip- They             spill steel and smoke        blood on the city streets Delivering poison      to your door Robot brain control center Oversees the operation from tall towers         geometric shapes                    Obelisks & Skyscrapers Father Culture thinks with                                 his ****
0
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 5:01 PM UTC
Obelisks & Skyscrapers
.                       .                          .     .             .          .               .        .    .    .     .     .     .     .    .    .      i     stare  at  a  docile  ocean               waveless   sun   accosted            dark and shadow edged            tinned with men's brave            history of misconception     i                                    'Dragonne'.                'Colossuus'.                                        'Cetaecean'.                                                   - Leviathan  ?                        As sure as hope setting sail  -                        Past shoal, past shallow,                                       So each chase begins.                        Lines parsing out,                          Expectations coyly                        Embroidered,                        Entwin-ned.                        -  Leviathan  ?                         Pray please this narrative be drawn :                           Truth for sake of safe harbour;                         Stillness without caution;                         Softly ripening dawn;                         Jupiter and Venus descendant,                         Celestial promise anon ?                                                                         -  Leviathan .                 Violence          the casual violence of life              the worst kind     not casual really   but whats violence anyway       few knew why    why ask why    the few      once  the  dice  flipped  get        its         a flying             a mind            a dunzo game              gravity responds  we hope              hope together sake                              to    gether we   short the freaks   short em' all   them freakin freaks      freaks            i want you I want yours              i want to take  you over                   take control  take over                         29' run        kontrol        all night                                                        day                              long             time                                                                end  time                   everthing happens forfurfor                                      fit                          ur               once and done     (nature)                                          forfeiture                      reason                  or ur other        or ur another                         or ur a altogether reason                                                                               or simple GP          drunkworld                                                                                                       reason                               (nurture)                         surprise my ripest faither -                                                     less                              5 rise  10 run                                                   huh                    up the                   down and dumb             dumb  ber                   right left        left                                                         right thum ber                               number one                                                 number                                                                                                 numb - ber                                    one                                                       ones                                                            another                                                                                                       come                                 under                                                             the                                   (tumb)                                                                                                             .                                                      All Rights Reserved. James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.                       .                          .     .             .          .               .        .    .    .     .     .     .     .    .    .      i     stare  at  a  docile  ocean               waveless   sun   accosted            dark and shadow edged            tinned with men's brave            history of misconception     i                                    'Dragonne'.                'Colossuus'.                                        'Cetaecean'.                                                   - Leviathan  ?                        As sure as hope setting sail  -                        Past shoal, past shallow,                                       So each chase begins.                        Lines parsing out,                          Expectations coyly                        Embroidered,                        Entwin-ned.                        -  Leviathan  ?                         Pray please this narrative be drawn :                           Truth for sake of safe harbour;                         Stillness without caution;                         Softly ripening dawn;                         Jupiter and Venus descendant,                         Celestial promise anon ?                                                                         -  Leviathan .                 Violence          the casual violence of life              the worst kind     not casual really   but whats violence anyway       few knew why    why ask why    the few      once  the  dice  flipped  get        its         a flying             a mind            a dunzo game              gravity responds  we hope              hope together sake                              to    gether we   short the freaks   short em' all   them freakin freaks      freaks            i want you I want yours              i want to take  you over                   take control  take over                         29' run        kontrol        all night                                                        day                              long             time                                                                end  time                   everthing happens forfurfor                                      fit                          ur               once and done     (nature)                                          forfeiture                      reason                  or ur other        or ur another                         or ur a altogether reason                                                                               or simple GP          drunkworld                                                                                                       reason                               (nurture)                         surprise my ripest faither -                                                     less                              5 rise  10 run                                                   huh                    up the                   down and dumb             dumb  ber                   right left        left                                                         right thum ber                               number one                                                 number                                                                                                 numb - ber                                    one                                                       ones                                                            another                                                                                                       come                                 under                                                             the                                   (tumb)                                                                                                             .                                                      All Rights Reserved. James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
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62
The Creator looked at the elephant and said: I made you big so you could be gentle To the mouse he said: I made you small so you could walk tall But over millions of years you two could exchange places and one become the other. I know I shoved the lot of you in an Ark Because Noah was being a pesk asking for rain when his washing machine ran dry So I had to fill the oceans to stop that old man from complaining all the time. Besides I needed the bark from the trees of the Ark to make me a small tug boat to carry some DNA samples of my own, in case, the lion ate the cow, the tiger chewed on the cat and the fox tricked the rest with his cunning ways You see, my friends, there was no grass, or snakes or bird cages, or trees for the monkeys to swing on. I thought of many things before I gave the building plans to Noah and his sons. Only one was a builder the rest were bums, who never held a hammer or learned how to tie two bits of trees together, leave alone building an ark to hold the worlds whole creation.Thankfully there were no real estate agents pushing the price up or bankers charging interest. The mafia thought of charging an entrance fee for each pair, but before they could do that the rains came pelting down and the tickets got washed away in the storm. So you see the Ark was a joint venture between The Americans and Chinese and Indians because they were willing to multiply quicker than the rest once Mt Sinai rose up to meet the oak leviathan from underneath. And so my dear elephants and mouse and fox and snake and bird and lion and tiger. Noah and his wonderful Ark was a script written well ahead so that Russell Crowe could get a part playing Noah in a computer generated extravaganza where only the actors and actresses who could afford to pay a price to be in it - were involved. The rest of mankind be ****** Author Notes Quirky. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
0
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Quirky
The Creator looked at the elephant and said: I made you big so you could be gentle To the mouse he said: I made you small so you could walk tall But over millions of years you two could exchange places and one become the other. I know I shoved the lot of you in an Ark Because Noah was being a pesk asking for rain when his washing machine ran dry So I had to fill the oceans to stop that old man from complaining all the time. Besides I needed the bark from the trees of the Ark to make me a small tug boat to carry some DNA samples of my own, in case, the lion ate the cow, the tiger chewed on the cat and the fox tricked the rest with his cunning ways You see, my friends, there was no grass, or snakes or bird cages, or trees for the monkeys to swing on. I thought of many things before I gave the building plans to Noah and his sons. Only one was a builder the rest were bums, who never held a hammer or learned how to tie two bits of trees together, leave alone building an ark to hold the worlds whole creation.Thankfully there were no real estate agents pushing the price up or bankers charging interest. The mafia thought of charging an entrance fee for each pair, but before they could do that the rains came pelting down and the tickets got washed away in the storm. So you see the Ark was a joint venture between The Americans and Chinese and Indians because they were willing to multiply quicker than the rest once Mt Sinai rose up to meet the oak leviathan from underneath. And so my dear elephants and mouse and fox and snake and bird and lion and tiger. Noah and his wonderful Ark was a script written well ahead so that Russell Crowe could get a part playing Noah in a computer generated extravaganza where only the actors and actresses who could afford to pay a price to be in it - were involved. The rest of mankind be ****** Author Notes Quirky. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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~~~ out of an arid ocean You came up hoary with barnacles grey with skin a spray of stars erupted startled . awash against its own night and down again You go to know the mating of tendrils the killing planes of seashores the antiquities of the sun were we there once? in the phosphor seasons we played with You as You are even then so self contained we found no need to surrender to the patient winds of change now You echo in strange meridians storming Your gusts in far off topography Your great tail sings its starlight way homing to its thunder ~~~ they came oh, yes, they came to harvest Your virtues their decks slick with Your blood crimson stains ugly with lucre their forest of masts peopled by Your ghosts sing ! O leviathan ! sing lift Your voice and bellow to us of Your lost pods Your wonderful oceans Your salty maternity *Your song is heard by GOD* (c) soulsurvivor
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 6:04 AM UTC
leviathan . inspired by Pablo Neruda
The thousandth ****** beneath Lake Baikal of The Trident The gods' mouthful bristling iron is spat ashore Leviathan's bones glint and crackle Man is one celled Apocalypse yet to divide His name in Manganese splinters under the paths of the mastodon
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 5:58 AM UTC
Manganese
These lines experimental but elemental to your mental, My creativity, Will never submit to the minimal, Isotopes subliminal penetrating the simple, Similes send criminals to infiltrate your biochemicals, Infected stanzas with stacked syntaxes sickness, My subconscious semiautomatic and stimulated, Formulate semblances of Leviathan illuminated, It's a tragedy my soul's has become a victim of gravity, Now my temples been raided, My nirvana's disseminated, And I've contemplated annihilation of self, Picturing my end as a senile senior citizen, With no one by my side, My mind can't complete a sentiment, Remembering has become my source of a smile, But it's making me even more curious to taste the end of this projectile,
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Warped Raspberry Flesh Slushie
Have you heard about this brute beast that lives in these parts Restless, he roams, goalless yet he thwarts A lot of people have encountered some never lived to see the day Where the monster decide to move past and mind be swayed However that monster was not feared because of its relentless attacks Neither it was because of his horrifying expression when he appears But because of its presence, everyone is taken aback And with the arrival of such a beast, one's guile might disappear Face it or fear for your stability For he is the leviathan that never attacks, he never uses force However, he just stands there and mocks, yet your actions become coarse Be brave, young warrior, face the foe at hand Before you crumble your foundation that suddenly became sand Face the creature and you will see, your might renewed and goals are clear Those who do not become a prisoner of life, the ones who cower in fear Yet, here why do one hesitate, you ask? Because in the end, we are all being attacked at once And your actions are watched by your loved ones. Then you realize, it's not the monster that confronted you that you should be afraid It's the monster that lives inside every person's mind that you should keep in check.
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC
The Leviathan who Never Attacks
*serpent girl dancing     on a red stone cobbled hill     ritual of Leviathan     trident to the belly     on stained alters bleached     blood and sweat sacrifice     candles burning     from the bottoms up     dipped in tears and pearls            nothing she won't do     swaying her hips     rhythmically     while toothless mouths sobbing     gum her body     a curse of deification            necromancer     *** pact     gorgeous fornicator walking under water her heart like a diamond     player of the infernal tarot     creeps daughter down on all fours     eating ***** with her butter *** up     quantum jumping     doing the planetary bunny hop     on vacation in a fire red bikini   and la dolce vita sunglasses     shes a guest of the sage of pyramids     catching solar rays     reading     from the book of doom     and fake dogmas            lips like obsidian fire     that eat bad children     especially ankle biters     scryer of black warped mirrors ranting     singing in the Vatican of the dead living     worm girls kissing muscular arterial shafts     and ***** in a twist     while making vampire paintings     in dark ritual adorations          ****   of     oodoo     voodoo     i     do     to     you you     plying your soul     with dreams     of     Hollywood     cinema     and headless swiveling   Bollywood     jitterbug            beating devils gory     with harrowing archfiends     and ****** heels     for   love money *** and combat            gods above     angels to the flanks     north south east and west     seventy-two demons below     a crystal floor of vice gripped cherubim     with steal shewed pentagrams     holding dominion   with golden ring     enclosed in a synagogue of will     she's my hot randy *****     in leopard *******           don't **** with her     she eats souls like taffy     while posing     as a kitten     outside her window*
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May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
DANCE OF THE DARK ARTS MASTER..Black Majick
*serpent girl dancing     on a red stone cobbled hill     ritual of Leviathan     trident to the belly     on stained alters bleached     blood and sweat sacrifice     candles burning     from the bottoms up     dipped in tears and pearls            nothing she won't do     swaying her hips     rhythmically     while toothless mouths sobbing     gum her body     a curse of deification            necromancer     *** pact     gorgeous fornicator walking under water her heart like a diamond     player of the infernal tarot     creeps daughter down on all fours     eating ***** with her butter *** up     quantum jumping     doing the planetary bunny hop     on vacation in a fire red bikini   and la dolce vita sunglasses     shes a guest of the sage of pyramids     catching solar rays     reading     from the book of doom     and fake dogmas            lips like obsidian fire     that eat bad children     especially ankle biters     scryer of black warped mirrors ranting     singing in the Vatican of the dead living     worm girls kissing muscular arterial shafts     and ***** in a twist     while making vampire paintings     in dark ritual adorations          ****   of     oodoo     voodoo     i     do     to     you you     plying your soul     with dreams     of     Hollywood     cinema     and headless swiveling   Bollywood     jitterbug            beating devils gory     with harrowing archfiends     and ****** heels     for   love money *** and combat            gods above     angels to the flanks     north south east and west     seventy-two demons below     a crystal floor of vice gripped cherubim     with steal shewed pentagrams     holding dominion   with golden ring     enclosed in a synagogue of will     she's my hot randy *****     in leopard *******           don't **** with her     she eats souls like taffy     while posing     as a kitten     outside her window*
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Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes Pained craving Wavering but Hit and It’s all loosey goosey goodness Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays A stern turn in old age the silly phase of Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles Secedes into introspective Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus? Strangers will eat you The professor thinks I’m funny because I know the answers in class The other day Dingus And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end And money! No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine Trying not to fear the outdoors, though The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes And not to eat my candy Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir I slurp them and belch Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge On loud faces; empty meat Where you can hear the jingly metal Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower They don’t always like me But I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers And a million lightyears to burn Truth is worth dying Four **** sow Izzeny thing these daze Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s Always art Quieting the plague that revealed Not so good after all Tiny thorns and all-consuming Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish Overcome, that never went away or found A place to sit Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
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Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
160. Whetting 12/22/12
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes Pained craving Wavering but Hit and It’s all loosey goosey goodness Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays A stern turn in old age the silly phase of Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles Secedes into introspective Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus? Strangers will eat you The professor thinks I’m funny because I know the answers in class The other day Dingus And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end And money! No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine Trying not to fear the outdoors, though The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes And not to eat my candy Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir I slurp them and belch Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge On loud faces; empty meat Where you can hear the jingly metal Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower They don’t always like me But I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers And a million lightyears to burn Truth is worth dying Four **** sow Izzeny thing these daze Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s Always art Quieting the plague that revealed Not so good after all Tiny thorns and all-consuming Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish Overcome, that never went away or found A place to sit Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
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46
we did what we could that night and a supernal being is ashamed. this is the drift of thought in the vast ocean of gilded gold frothing at the edge of rotund: giving back a silenced enigma, spewing the answer in an exhaust of white rancid smoke dharma burns plastered to cigarette. burning and burning, afloat are the high-pouncing embers looking for fleeting shades and dagger-ambulations of a shadow's swagger in tectonic soiree. we did what we could that night. like a flash of lightning at the back of hoarded hills, or say, something brutal and brash with modern sensibilities we never jell — we come not with softness or life peering out of our eyes like little girls serenaded by mad men in the eve of forlorn nights. we did what we could and some god cringes, winces away like the erratic dance of candleflame. the leviathan black spreads its parasol and we are no strangers. when our veraciousness starts to pierce the veil, the populace should start to worry of their trapped conditions. we came here for something: be it flesh, be it wisdom, be it plain inebriations — we will never flinch at the squalor of tomorrow's sobering. keep in mind, kaibigan.     it's all levitation and transcendence. the darkness wept as the car groans near the end of its immaterial life. i flick the last cigarette into the grey-faced pavement. all oceans drowned, all shadows burgeoned, all fires emerged plump, this silent radio rivers through the wave of this ephemerality, the onomatopoeia of strangeness, the   thud       of the senseless head of metal      on the body the   clackety-clack        of hours thereafter! ayeayeaye! the streets sing no mild   appendage. the solstice is lost     in the length and precision of all things. bringing ourselves to the brink of absence,     our pallid selves set ablaze, emblazoning the quick life of matchflame or rumble of         thunder — the steady phoenix of        that night! this is learning   to breathe again, o, what currents purloined in vicious swarth as we keep      this river flowing into our throats,   jamming our souls to compelling music.    remember kaibigan, it's all levitation and transcendence.
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
Levitations
we did what we could that night and a supernal being is ashamed. this is the drift of thought in the vast ocean of gilded gold frothing at the edge of rotund: giving back a silenced enigma, spewing the answer in an exhaust of white rancid smoke dharma burns plastered to cigarette. burning and burning, afloat are the high-pouncing embers looking for fleeting shades and dagger-ambulations of a shadow's swagger in tectonic soiree. we did what we could that night. like a flash of lightning at the back of hoarded hills, or say, something brutal and brash with modern sensibilities we never jell — we come not with softness or life peering out of our eyes like little girls serenaded by mad men in the eve of forlorn nights. we did what we could and some god cringes, winces away like the erratic dance of candleflame. the leviathan black spreads its parasol and we are no strangers. when our veraciousness starts to pierce the veil, the populace should start to worry of their trapped conditions. we came here for something: be it flesh, be it wisdom, be it plain inebriations — we will never flinch at the squalor of tomorrow's sobering. keep in mind, kaibigan.     it's all levitation and transcendence. the darkness wept as the car groans near the end of its immaterial life. i flick the last cigarette into the grey-faced pavement. all oceans drowned, all shadows burgeoned, all fires emerged plump, this silent radio rivers through the wave of this ephemerality, the onomatopoeia of strangeness, the   thud       of the senseless head of metal      on the body the   clackety-clack        of hours thereafter! ayeayeaye! the streets sing no mild   appendage. the solstice is lost     in the length and precision of all things. bringing ourselves to the brink of absence,     our pallid selves set ablaze, emblazoning the quick life of matchflame or rumble of         thunder — the steady phoenix of        that night! this is learning   to breathe again, o, what currents purloined in vicious swarth as we keep      this river flowing into our throats,   jamming our souls to compelling music.    remember kaibigan, it's all levitation and transcendence.
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