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"mollusks" poems
Orcas in Puget Sound Along the road, abandoned wild apple trees bend with their heavy loads, dusty skirts of blackberry bushes purpling fingers, piercing flesh mouths ringed with berry juice, vampires all. Along San Juan Island salmon leap clear out of the briny water, just yards ahead of their predators, Orcas, dorsal fins curving shiny black, sluicing and slicing the surface like sharpened knives They have bred with one another for 10,000 years trolled these waters through famine, earthquakes, world wars through shifting continents, glacial avalanches, through the extinction of whole civilizations. Standing on a cliff, my daughter and I watch the Orcas churning the water - studies in grace the largest gem on the necklace of a great food chain and when we sleep we too chase the great King Salmon of our deepest dreams, the fathers we lost, the currents that bear along children Translucent jellyfish, palm sized, breath below sideways exhale, convulsive inhale umbrellas opening and closing a thousand years or more sliding through forests of brown kelp where mollusks cling We have clung like this to one another, with my body thrown over hers for protection and her exhaling away from me If Mama Orca keeps her young close, so will I If there are salmon to chase and harbor seals to command, so we will Arcing in the late August sky slapping and parting the surface, over and over the whales, lords of the Sound, swim in our brains as we sleep sparkle against blackening waters You are of my body from my body cleaving there for 10,000 years Whatever quarrels there are on land vaporize In the presence of these creatures, arcing against all that is temporal, vicious, small, studies in power and grace The tide pulls out, skimming across rocks and oysters in their muddy beds But this need to care for you remains as big as an Orca your appetite for adventure as voracious and I watch you, my child, disappearing with summer into high school, into womanhood, into the salty, light-dappled ocean
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Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 4:15 PM UTC
Orcas in Puget Sound
Orcas in Puget Sound Along the road, abandoned wild apple trees bend with their heavy loads, dusty skirts of blackberry bushes purpling fingers, piercing flesh mouths ringed with berry juice, vampires all. Along San Juan Island salmon leap clear out of the briny water, just yards ahead of their predators, Orcas, dorsal fins curving shiny black, sluicing and slicing the surface like sharpened knives They have bred with one another for 10,000 years trolled these waters through famine, earthquakes, world wars through shifting continents, glacial avalanches, through the extinction of whole civilizations. Standing on a cliff, my daughter and I watch the Orcas churning the water - studies in grace the largest gem on the necklace of a great food chain and when we sleep we too chase the great King Salmon of our deepest dreams, the fathers we lost, the currents that bear along children Translucent jellyfish, palm sized, breath below sideways exhale, convulsive inhale umbrellas opening and closing a thousand years or more sliding through forests of brown kelp where mollusks cling We have clung like this to one another, with my body thrown over hers for protection and her exhaling away from me If Mama Orca keeps her young close, so will I If there are salmon to chase and harbor seals to command, so we will Arcing in the late August sky slapping and parting the surface, over and over the whales, lords of the Sound, swim in our brains as we sleep sparkle against blackening waters You are of my body from my body cleaving there for 10,000 years Whatever quarrels there are on land vaporize In the presence of these creatures, arcing against all that is temporal, vicious, small, studies in power and grace The tide pulls out, skimming across rocks and oysters in their muddy beds But this need to care for you remains as big as an Orca your appetite for adventure as voracious and I watch you, my child, disappearing with summer into high school, into womanhood, into the salty, light-dappled ocean
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42
I know I've been there, I've given into death and altered the fabric of reality Every day we waste away transfixed by flattened images Of the limitlessness of death Coupled with elusive, Luciferian harm which will befall us all Who subsist on the manipulated reality of the hyperspace information field But one day, enlivened by the festivities of Shakori Hills And the fungal spirits who awoke beside us I walked the irreversible pathway through oblivion Facing cruel destruction and terror For a horrifying passage across Styx into eternity And emerged within a crowd of mollusks dancing to the waves of a musical sea All time suspended in the impossibly drawn-out ****** of the Archetypal wizardry of rhythm, The swirling clumps of faces in Unshakable ecstasy And seemingly responding to the wild currents of my conscious thought; A longing for human touch drew the others closer and closer around me Till they began brushing against me Bumping into me, The flow of the crowd saw its axis at my psychic emanation As once more the last song of all time began with thunderous energy and applause. I escaped the arresting confines of the crowd By willing them aside, wearing, as I suddenly became aware, the shoes of Moses And seeing my muddy feet upon the sands of Egypt But I yet had no understanding Of the nature of the garden of earthly delights Into which I had fallen, And fear began to envelop me, Producing law enforcement officials hawklike swooping in to limit my power. I had but to let go of my acceptance of their power over me to transcend them But fear tethered me to reality, Even as I saw about me a Dharmic mandala Of my past present and future, Generating inexplicable archetypes around me in a manner profoundly defiant Of rational logic. Synchronicity compounded upon me As the Christos within me Brought rain down upon us Forcing us together and leaving me in dumbfounded reverie Of all that had transpired to bring this moment forth What had seemed to be the end of history was in fact The awakening of a new rebirth The first moment of coming to be The union of past, present and future As the reassuring smiles of my trustworthy disciples gently allowed me passage back into a rational existence I beamed in utter gratitude for the eternal life which Christ afforded us. Chaos had subsided back into normalcy But still winked at me In telepathic coincidence. My soul has begun to realize that it resides in all things Soon they are to be reintegrated
0
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
Shakori Hills
I know I've been there, I've given into death and altered the fabric of reality Every day we waste away transfixed by flattened images Of the limitlessness of death Coupled with elusive, Luciferian harm which will befall us all Who subsist on the manipulated reality of the hyperspace information field But one day, enlivened by the festivities of Shakori Hills And the fungal spirits who awoke beside us I walked the irreversible pathway through oblivion Facing cruel destruction and terror For a horrifying passage across Styx into eternity And emerged within a crowd of mollusks dancing to the waves of a musical sea All time suspended in the impossibly drawn-out ****** of the Archetypal wizardry of rhythm, The swirling clumps of faces in Unshakable ecstasy And seemingly responding to the wild currents of my conscious thought; A longing for human touch drew the others closer and closer around me Till they began brushing against me Bumping into me, The flow of the crowd saw its axis at my psychic emanation As once more the last song of all time began with thunderous energy and applause. I escaped the arresting confines of the crowd By willing them aside, wearing, as I suddenly became aware, the shoes of Moses And seeing my muddy feet upon the sands of Egypt But I yet had no understanding Of the nature of the garden of earthly delights Into which I had fallen, And fear began to envelop me, Producing law enforcement officials hawklike swooping in to limit my power. I had but to let go of my acceptance of their power over me to transcend them But fear tethered me to reality, Even as I saw about me a Dharmic mandala Of my past present and future, Generating inexplicable archetypes around me in a manner profoundly defiant Of rational logic. Synchronicity compounded upon me As the Christos within me Brought rain down upon us Forcing us together and leaving me in dumbfounded reverie Of all that had transpired to bring this moment forth What had seemed to be the end of history was in fact The awakening of a new rebirth The first moment of coming to be The union of past, present and future As the reassuring smiles of my trustworthy disciples gently allowed me passage back into a rational existence I beamed in utter gratitude for the eternal life which Christ afforded us. Chaos had subsided back into normalcy But still winked at me In telepathic coincidence. My soul has begun to realize that it resides in all things Soon they are to be reintegrated
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52
Its former tenant long since fled to wherever Mollusks go.. Its’ empty shell rests on my shelf For years that has been so. I took it down the other day, intending just to dust. A mote, or something, caused a tear. Was it perhaps, a thought of us? We walked along the Islands shore As old, practiced, couples do. We found this shell half buried And I rescued it for you. We had a fine collection On the shelf above our bed Until your former flame returned And you, like summer, fled. Triangles are eternal constructs pleasing to the mind But this one proved ephemeral being the romantic kind, I raise the Conch Shell to my lips And give a practiced blow. Its low sweet song a threnody For days of long ago
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Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
The Conch Shell
we did not Dye in vain! by michael r. burch (from “songs of the sea snails”) though i’m just a slimy crawler, my lineage is proud: my forebears gave their lives (oh, let the trumps blare loud!) so purple-mantled Royals might stand out in a crowd. i salute you, fellow loyals, who labor without scruple as your incomes fall while deficits quadruple to swaddle unjust Lords in bright imperial purple! Originally published by The American Dissident Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes! Keywords/Tags: royal, purple, imperial, Tyrian, Byzantium, porphyry, swaddling, clothes, porphyrogenitos, mollusks, sea snails, royalty, kings, lords, emperors, popes
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Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 4:35 AM UTC
we did not Dye in vain!
we did not Dye in vain! by michael r. burch (from “songs of the sea snails”) though i’m just a slimy crawler, my lineage is proud: my forebears gave their lives (oh, let the trumps blare loud!) so purple-mantled Royals might stand out in a crowd. i salute you, fellow loyals, who labor without scruple as your incomes fall while deficits quadruple to swaddle unjust Lords in bright imperial purple! Originally published by The American Dissident Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes! Keywords/Tags: royal, purple, imperial, Tyrian, Byzantium, porphyry, swaddling, clothes, porphyrogenitos, mollusks, sea snails, royalty, kings, lords, emperors, popes
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18
Ferry Me Ferry me, but once more. The last ferry rides of Indian Summer, Always arrives on schedule which is Always and precisely, too soon. Then, the imprisonment months, Sentence, indeterminate. *A Grand Jury trial of months, I, and my co-defendant, My sanity, this time, the Oddsmakers say, Won't survive the lockup. The source perfume of driftwood words, Very ferry distinguishing marks, Sails and seagulls, diesel fumes and saltwater, Sunsets and seagrass, flying fish and multi-mollusks, The stuffing of my summer turkey, the currants of Poems and dreams, sad-eyed longings... Now, Evidence used by prosecution, Confession freely uncoerced, I Am A Summer Man Adjudged and convicted, Guilty of Winter's Discontent.* But it is these last few passages, Not of words, but over water, The absence thereof, crush, ravage, Worse than any grey calendar captivity, Forlornly, I mouth silently, repeatedly, Ferry me, but once more. The course, straightforward, Voyager, but a few minutes, but long enough to Love it deeply, need it like a fix, The mania of the mainland left behind, The island, thinly lit, more shadow than real, The approaching dark, shelters, comforts, embraces. Perhaps, likely, I deceive myself. No matter how the island comforts, The brain always rumbling, Can never make stop questioning, Prisoner of 24/7, But it is lessened, left behind, As I am ferried away both, In body and in mind.
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
Ferry Me
On the mangrove bank of the tidal river lie embedded the mollusks, they appear mournfully motionless, deceiving you to believe they’re too passive to be alive, are just displays of dead shells in their muddy graveyard, though the truth is they are mystic monks silently enduring their estuarine transience, bidding in meditation the time the return tides carry them to their marine abode.
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 2:23 AM UTC
Mystic Monks
architectural mollusks     are falloping through                               my brain                         squeezing past the                          instincts that         have kept me down My instincts,               once brittle sea stars                           that splintered                                     into cracked                                  peppercorns,                  are now mixed with            the breathy liquid         of squid, lubrication for the spiny paths ahead They blow their ink between my inverted vertebrae       injecting Jello into bone                            busting through                         fiber and tissue like                           fresh-skimmed                     lavacream and all my muck rises to the top in a neon rawness that I find beautiful Soon my burning crevices will be cooled fossils will turn to flesh and, as sure as knowledge springs into action I will make for the shoreline like a cephalopod rocket silky smooth my fins spun into wings touching magic as they glide
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Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
sea change
Let's taste the ocean water together  just you and I we will dive into the deep blue sea  holding hands til our heads are just floating on top  riding with the waves  and let's dive in even further after that  until we're kissing the ocean bottom  gulping in copious amounts of sea salt and shrimp brine  lets just dive in  dive in  dive in  and sink with the mollusks and octopi  give up on living this sham we call a life  cloistered in our clam shells we don't have a room with a view  always protecting our pearls from those that are out to poach us for our inner treasures  remember all the gold memories we've collected in our troves  like we were hoarding them away for some rainy day  well it doesnt get any rainier than drowning in these murky depths  we're like treasure chests sinking to the bottom fast  lost from some forgotten shipwreck  we're collecting on the ocean floor waiting to be discovered  over centuries we'll rust and be covered in barnacles before we're found  Crumbling in the hands of those that try to rescue us  lets just give up  give up  give up  but we can't give up  Not yet anyway Not while we're treading these waves with sharks lapping hungrily at our feet  With rows of ravenous razor sharp teeth savoring the slow taste of our defeat as we inch closer  And closer With our heads fighting to stay above water til we can no longer tread with these useless arms and legs we take that last gasp of treasured breath into our lungs  and feel the water pressure collapse around our tired bodies feeling the ache of our worn out limbs  we sink and we sink  We sink We sink to the bottom of where we started  filling our deflated hearts with all the failed dreams and squandered hopes of all the shipwrecked treasures that came before us  And all those that join us sooner or later on these murky endless bottoms We've been here before And we're all destined to be here again And again And again  So let's just keep treading these waves for as long as we can Maybe we'll luck out and find an island in all this oceanic bliss We'll crawl on shore  Grasping for dry sand and a warm place to hole up in Before we find ourselves back out Lost in the sea Treading water With sharks licking hungrily at our feet  With rows of ravenous razor sharp teeth Savoring the slow taste of our defeat
0
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 1:33 AM UTC
Treading Water With Sharks (the endless drowning of our treasured youth)
Let's taste the ocean water together  just you and I we will dive into the deep blue sea  holding hands til our heads are just floating on top  riding with the waves  and let's dive in even further after that  until we're kissing the ocean bottom  gulping in copious amounts of sea salt and shrimp brine  lets just dive in  dive in  dive in  and sink with the mollusks and octopi  give up on living this sham we call a life  cloistered in our clam shells we don't have a room with a view  always protecting our pearls from those that are out to poach us for our inner treasures  remember all the gold memories we've collected in our troves  like we were hoarding them away for some rainy day  well it doesnt get any rainier than drowning in these murky depths  we're like treasure chests sinking to the bottom fast  lost from some forgotten shipwreck  we're collecting on the ocean floor waiting to be discovered  over centuries we'll rust and be covered in barnacles before we're found  Crumbling in the hands of those that try to rescue us  lets just give up  give up  give up  but we can't give up  Not yet anyway Not while we're treading these waves with sharks lapping hungrily at our feet  With rows of ravenous razor sharp teeth savoring the slow taste of our defeat as we inch closer  And closer With our heads fighting to stay above water til we can no longer tread with these useless arms and legs we take that last gasp of treasured breath into our lungs  and feel the water pressure collapse around our tired bodies feeling the ache of our worn out limbs  we sink and we sink  We sink We sink to the bottom of where we started  filling our deflated hearts with all the failed dreams and squandered hopes of all the shipwrecked treasures that came before us  And all those that join us sooner or later on these murky endless bottoms We've been here before And we're all destined to be here again And again And again  So let's just keep treading these waves for as long as we can Maybe we'll luck out and find an island in all this oceanic bliss We'll crawl on shore  Grasping for dry sand and a warm place to hole up in Before we find ourselves back out Lost in the sea Treading water With sharks licking hungrily at our feet  With rows of ravenous razor sharp teeth Savoring the slow taste of our defeat
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58
She brings me coffee in bed. I propose a violin accompaniment. Some babka, with nice-crumbly-in-bed Streusel topping, A concerto we could make! Her derision snorted so loud, The mollusks on the beach From their shells come out. "Good luck with that, Put that fantasy on Your **** poetry site, Cause that is the closest you will ever get!"
0
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
II. HP Fantasy!
Living on the ocean as I do, I hunt fish and mollusks my kin are otters and whales, wide eyed we dive the night waves, soft in lullabies in a sea dream, starlit and moon cradled my lips are sparkling and salt flecked my eyes wide awake from sleep in a myriad of visions these sea colors all my days, swum in a variance of blues oceans deep and streaked in silver shoals the day skies fade and die, into nights plush and indigo blue.
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May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 11:07 PM UTC
Ocean home
“a starless galaxy carrying gas and shrouded in dark matter” a townless galaxy rich in sulfur a gas cloud plummeting towards the milky way         home you are reminded and now pale peels off you, shaved as ice the implosion completes itself in four ways replicated by the gravitational lens of something heavier than itself time in time in time rich in sulfur and algae blooms everything beneath the meniscus heavier than itself drowning in algae blooms purple mollusks, sardines sea lions swallowed by forests of kelp guts full of domoic acid and forget we eat the toxin-laced fish and cannot talk about what we wanted to talk about star matter, rich in sulfur rich in dark matter, heavier than starless towns home heavier than itself toxin laced, eating and drowning on matterless stars
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
matter
I am a pearl In the warm embrace of a mollusk Something beautiful, glorious But with its own secrets I am guarded, walls up high The mollusk moulds me Thinks it knows every part of me But alas, that is not the case I was placed in the mollusk, a grain of sand But the ones that know me better Are my fellow sand grains Hard, but smooth as one They know everything about me They know my past They know my present They will know my future As I emerge from the mollusk So do they, from theirs We come together, to form something Gloriously beautiful While we journey with Pearls who know our true face We must never forget the mollusks Who shaped us from sand
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 6:26 AM UTC
Sands and Pearls
(Chiara, Francesca, Rosa and Pedra remained on the beach.) Chiara and Pedra decided to take a look along The coast to search some food; Francesca and Rosa carried The boat across the beach to hide it; 'How can you be so strong? '' Asked Rosa; ''I listened to Chiara when I got married. We depleted a fortune and Lucca was very rich.'' ''So, this strength of yours comes from your tristesse, '' replied Rosa. ''My inner emptiness became affection.'' 'She's a witch.'' 'She's a good soul, but inside her, she keeps thorns of mimosa.'' They had to undergo that difficult time and to Organize their lunch; Rosa stopped to sip some drops of water From the canteen she carried, '' it's entirely up to you To leave him now.' ''My father is ill; I'm his only daughter.'' They were tired after the grim events of the previous Hours; meanwhile, Chiara and Pedra were sifting through the salty Air of the beach. Chiara said, '' I don't trust Fargo, he's devious.'' ''We have no other chance, '' replied Pedra. ''His logic is faulty, '' Continued Chiara, ''they should remain here with us.'' Pedra stayed for a few minutes being caught by the sparkle Of the broken waves; she said, ''we have something to discuss. Don't you think that your ideas are too matriarchal? '' They enjoyed the salty stink of the seaweeds and the clicking Of the living shells that they had tossed together for the meal. While eating, they cut off the mollusks from their sticking Shells; dozens of gulls were wheeling over the waves. ''Pleasant peal, '' Said Francesca, '' the chance of meeting another one while Staying here is very slim.'' '' I really grasp the scale of our Surroundings, '' said Chiara while giving her seaweeds with a smile. Rosa said, '' eat some kumquats, figs, and pears; you need power.'' (Rosa brought some fruits to complete the meal.) (To be continued…) Poem by Marieta Maglas
0
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
Frederick and Geraldine (Part 19)
(Chiara, Francesca, Rosa and Pedra remained on the beach.) Chiara and Pedra decided to take a look along The coast to search some food; Francesca and Rosa carried The boat across the beach to hide it; 'How can you be so strong? '' Asked Rosa; ''I listened to Chiara when I got married. We depleted a fortune and Lucca was very rich.'' ''So, this strength of yours comes from your tristesse, '' replied Rosa. ''My inner emptiness became affection.'' 'She's a witch.'' 'She's a good soul, but inside her, she keeps thorns of mimosa.'' They had to undergo that difficult time and to Organize their lunch; Rosa stopped to sip some drops of water From the canteen she carried, '' it's entirely up to you To leave him now.' ''My father is ill; I'm his only daughter.'' They were tired after the grim events of the previous Hours; meanwhile, Chiara and Pedra were sifting through the salty Air of the beach. Chiara said, '' I don't trust Fargo, he's devious.'' ''We have no other chance, '' replied Pedra. ''His logic is faulty, '' Continued Chiara, ''they should remain here with us.'' Pedra stayed for a few minutes being caught by the sparkle Of the broken waves; she said, ''we have something to discuss. Don't you think that your ideas are too matriarchal? '' They enjoyed the salty stink of the seaweeds and the clicking Of the living shells that they had tossed together for the meal. While eating, they cut off the mollusks from their sticking Shells; dozens of gulls were wheeling over the waves. ''Pleasant peal, '' Said Francesca, '' the chance of meeting another one while Staying here is very slim.'' '' I really grasp the scale of our Surroundings, '' said Chiara while giving her seaweeds with a smile. Rosa said, '' eat some kumquats, figs, and pears; you need power.'' (Rosa brought some fruits to complete the meal.) (To be continued…) Poem by Marieta Maglas
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32
By Joseph Childress Shells On the sea shore Share sounds from the ocean She tells deep stories Of unknown territories From what lies beneath Where no man has reached To the land of the beach In my hand, you teach The shortcomings of speech I learn lessons On how to listen Admiring the mussels Of mollusks Their tongue I cant I see Yet they scream "I'm free"
0
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Shell
That's where I found it, but it's not where it was, so I'll pick it up and put it somewhere else just because. This is what it looks like. This is how it walks: like a quarter machine capsule on a pair of chopstick legs. Cup it to your ear and you can hear the ocean lying. Lie down on the sand and you can hear the mollusks dying. A storm is just a bunch of sad clouds collectively crying. This is the part where you float away.
0
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
Red/Rip Tide
Scientists made a discovery fundamentalists don't consider great The universe expands and contracts at the exact same rate So we live the exact same fate In an infinite state The white light at your death and birth Are one and the same So with the rhythmic rotations of Earth We play a counterclockwise game Of repeating in vain This wondrous maze The theologians needed a recovery From this revelatory discovery So they formulated an alternate reading To the biblical teachings To continue preaching And lost soul reaching They say Jesus is the equality of man And God is the impact of love on this land Satan is the other side of love's demand Guiding hatred's hand So to hear God Is love's nod And **** To bond While to properly follow Jesus Is to forgive those who beat us For they'll be a fetus Once the future leaves us Heaven is the state of being in love So when your soul floats above You'll return to the one Who fills you with fun But you must live righteously Rather than divisively To plant the seed Of immortal glee Babies go to purgatory Being murdered for the Infinite story Unfortunately David is aggression Judas is regression Hell is the oppression Of living in depression With no one for confession Private problems become obsessions Forever learning painful lessons The apple of knowledge Is the invention of college For the intellectual solace We're insignificant mollusks The theologians surmise Our demise Will be from our loss of faith Which will bring a dark weight To those with unclean fates Filled with hate Repeating slates The theologians plead To join their pious breed To avoid endless punctures And gain godlike structure For living an examined life In the land of strife They can plan the fight To get you through nights They say the Bible uses fiction To convey truth To cure our addiction Of being uncouth And the deformed Should be warned That those unmoved Will live in a tomb Of eternal doom
0
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
Alternate Reading
Scientists made a discovery fundamentalists don't consider great The universe expands and contracts at the exact same rate So we live the exact same fate In an infinite state The white light at your death and birth Are one and the same So with the rhythmic rotations of Earth We play a counterclockwise game Of repeating in vain This wondrous maze The theologians needed a recovery From this revelatory discovery So they formulated an alternate reading To the biblical teachings To continue preaching And lost soul reaching They say Jesus is the equality of man And God is the impact of love on this land Satan is the other side of love's demand Guiding hatred's hand So to hear God Is love's nod And **** To bond While to properly follow Jesus Is to forgive those who beat us For they'll be a fetus Once the future leaves us Heaven is the state of being in love So when your soul floats above You'll return to the one Who fills you with fun But you must live righteously Rather than divisively To plant the seed Of immortal glee Babies go to purgatory Being murdered for the Infinite story Unfortunately David is aggression Judas is regression Hell is the oppression Of living in depression With no one for confession Private problems become obsessions Forever learning painful lessons The apple of knowledge Is the invention of college For the intellectual solace We're insignificant mollusks The theologians surmise Our demise Will be from our loss of faith Which will bring a dark weight To those with unclean fates Filled with hate Repeating slates The theologians plead To join their pious breed To avoid endless punctures And gain godlike structure For living an examined life In the land of strife They can plan the fight To get you through nights They say the Bible uses fiction To convey truth To cure our addiction Of being uncouth And the deformed Should be warned That those unmoved Will live in a tomb Of eternal doom
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75
Glistening in the sun, Sand can be so much fun. A towel on the ground, My worries are now unwound. Children always laughing, All the while they are splashing. Little Birds dart back and forth, Eating mollusks they work to unearth. Crisp, clear, blue water, Always to be seen in this saltwater. Shells upon shells. From conch to cockleshells. Hot sun always lead to ice cream, To help let off some steam. So many reasons different for each, On why the beach is so fun to reach.
0
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 5:16 PM UTC
The Beach
you walk with me, my friend hand in hand away from the amort delighted at a dulcet sound of a violin an amateur that coalesces two hearts come meet me at the empyrean garden bring your lilt and your ebuillence seeing the mollusks smelling the jasmine a fragrance to a dreamy memory our eyes happy my heart too at the thought of you
0
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 7:44 AM UTC
Some day
He left it in bed care. Results: You can find one of the soccer players in the group. For example, John Carroll, a member of the office in New York, city and second. The ability to be all folks. Take it to your local life. USA 1. However, USA and other users. It will be the Trinity at the Russian court. The names of the seven demons. This is why physical depression and physical decay. Iran. And circulate your blood on the Internet and other staff. About the mollusks, and the pink, did not fail. But you know what we did in January and February, when a man knows, there is no darkness. Honestekue Egypt, Egypt Nordkart lib. I know I have installed one. The standard version of the well-known and integrated device is put in a bag. After fence. Third method. Thomas writes. The city, having a buyer. John attacks in the United States. | | || The administrator made the bed and set it right. Tip: To find a place for competition, you can stimulate your shoot, for example, Carl's role, and enter the center created in New York, buying the office, police on the other side is fast but to eat everything and minimize the consequences in the | areas. Make sure your quest is on your life. America and 1 in the United States. Previous user interface and accounts. At that time, the blood of the Trinity, the Saints, the Holy, the Russians, including the court, was the blood of the first. Name the name of the seven demons. This theme is very important in the evidence, but it is often a strong warrior who died. Through everything about Iran. Yes, the blood of Christ worked on the Internet, Paying labor to another woman. Rosa Ostair, she does not fall. She knew she was clean and black in January and February. Honestekue Egypt, Egypt Nordkart Cent. I know the phone is installed by email. The original format that created the bad bags and equipment was found. Post Wall. Trips for trips Three o'clock. Thomas was built. And the competition has many walls, the walls of the enemy keep safe. John's death is in the United States. | ||| He lay down on the bed. The result: you will find a group of footballers. For example, the Secretary of New York of the secretary John Carrell and others. Get life in your life to earn money. United States of America 1. Americans and other users. This is a Russian triple. Seven, therefore, body and body are depressed. I escaped Convert your blood into your blood on the Internet and other personnel. He is not meticulous and pink. But you know what happened in January. February knew he was not black. Egypt in Egypt. I installed the application to update the application on your device. After the war The third way. Thomas wrote. City, businessman. John attacked the United States. | | | |
0
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
The Death of John in the United States
He left it in bed care. Results: You can find one of the soccer players in the group. For example, John Carroll, a member of the office in New York, city and second. The ability to be all folks. Take it to your local life. USA 1. However, USA and other users. It will be the Trinity at the Russian court. The names of the seven demons. This is why physical depression and physical decay. Iran. And circulate your blood on the Internet and other staff. About the mollusks, and the pink, did not fail. But you know what we did in January and February, when a man knows, there is no darkness. Honestekue Egypt, Egypt Nordkart lib. I know I have installed one. The standard version of the well-known and integrated device is put in a bag. After fence. Third method. Thomas writes. The city, having a buyer. John attacks in the United States. | | || The administrator made the bed and set it right. Tip: To find a place for competition, you can stimulate your shoot, for example, Carl's role, and enter the center created in New York, buying the office, police on the other side is fast but to eat everything and minimize the consequences in the | areas. Make sure your quest is on your life. America and 1 in the United States. Previous user interface and accounts. At that time, the blood of the Trinity, the Saints, the Holy, the Russians, including the court, was the blood of the first. Name the name of the seven demons. This theme is very important in the evidence, but it is often a strong warrior who died. Through everything about Iran. Yes, the blood of Christ worked on the Internet, Paying labor to another woman. Rosa Ostair, she does not fall. She knew she was clean and black in January and February. Honestekue Egypt, Egypt Nordkart Cent. I know the phone is installed by email. The original format that created the bad bags and equipment was found. Post Wall. Trips for trips Three o'clock. Thomas was built. And the competition has many walls, the walls of the enemy keep safe. John's death is in the United States. | ||| He lay down on the bed. The result: you will find a group of footballers. For example, the Secretary of New York of the secretary John Carrell and others. Get life in your life to earn money. United States of America 1. Americans and other users. This is a Russian triple. Seven, therefore, body and body are depressed. I escaped Convert your blood into your blood on the Internet and other personnel. He is not meticulous and pink. But you know what happened in January. February knew he was not black. Egypt in Egypt. I installed the application to update the application on your device. After the war The third way. Thomas wrote. City, businessman. John attacked the United States. | | | |
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3
Dogfish bait and a late teasing wind slacks the line, the one binding monofilament of time and lost momentum sagged from a raft adrift - waiting - and never enough to sum the formulae, the vagaries, vicissitudes, uncoiling from the reel set with loose drag. A stag in the sea still drowns, still thrashes until the rack goes down one last time one last breath before the flounder is spitting hair and bone and the titanic hulk becomes the soft stuff of mollusks.
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Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 8:59 AM UTC
Sum of Endeavors #2