Montana

Montana

A Poem by Logan Carryall
"

The word 'immaculate'.

"

I dreamt of Montana,

For, in the passing fields

of gold and green

Upon the enchanted highway,

By way of North Dakota

I stood

 

My soul crept from beneath,

Souring but a mountainous eye to the sky

And through this eye I leapt

with

Sudden munitions of power,

Carried by the dead,

born

By the birds that held dearly to their line

A crowing multitude,

And to such a vantage that I now beheld

A crown of immaculate gold

Storm     
tarrying streaks as if stakes

Through the low sky ceiling of shifting Cobalt,

 

By and By, to this row I knew

That beyond the rushing fields,

within the vale

Lay the impartial throne of God,

Fire as coals upon this

vast

And dethroning land, the reign of rebellion

Showing its vestige, 

For the Lord is leviathan, swallowing

Whole

The children of pride

 

© 2009 Logan Carryall


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

one time i dreamt of a piece of land. just a square and it was dead. and a power line leading to nowhere in particular. i saw a bird drowning in no water. but then that was north and i was already south. sometimes there is no going back. this reminded me of that in another universe, or from another time, like looking in a mirror and squinting and trying to hold yourself upside down.

Posted 11 Years Ago


I had forgotten how much I like you.

I am having a no-duh moment.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Very interesting stuff, man. Nice imagery. The idea of uniting the old Devil Leviathan as God Himself, showing the two as never seperate, but always one being, is so completely heretical and fantastic.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

370 Views
3 Reviews
Rating
Added on September 25, 2009
Last Updated on September 30, 2009

Author

Logan Carryall
Logan Carryall

Upstate, NY



About
Logan Carryall is a young man who lives in the apple orchards of New York, New York. About ten minuets from the Hudson River, Logan drinks near barges and trains. The world seems much bigger without a.. more..

Writing