Doc tells me im still alive. Don't know how but not complaining. Just trying to live in the here and now. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten my past. Think about life as a boat on the open sea. The mast, the pole in the center of the boat, is your past. It's the foundation and holds up the sail which is your future. You're the captain; the one who controls the here and now. Your loved ones are your power; the wind that pushes you forward. And the sea, that's the most important part
It represents the unknown. The things you can't control. There will be days when the thunder claps and your boat floods from Whitecaps. I know it's hard, but if you don't worry about the sea, what you can't control, and don't block out your past, you can give your all to someone and find happiness that lasts.

I am a lone boat,
nothing inside,
just an empty void,
keeping myself afloat.

Navigating around,
just waiting someone,
to welcome aboard,
and travel the world.

Years of rough sailing,
can't still find a thing,
the happiest feeling,
that I've been praying.

Waves of loneliness,
wanting me to swallow,
whirlpools of  promises,
pulling me to sorrow.

Poseidon's kingdom waiting,
to see my boat drowning,
wrecked on seafloor unloved,
sunk on trench unappreciated.

Let me sail away on a boat
made of soda-lime glass
Let me float out to the middle of the ocean
as a messenger in a bottle
Let me lie there
cradled in the crook of the tumultuous sea
pressing my face against the curve of the glass
watching for the glint of neon fish
and great ocean leviathans
And, when I grow bored,
let the glass of my boat fracture and shatter
and sink
to the very bottom
so that the ocean can swallow its messenger
And in a thousand years, let all of my glass pieces
wash up on the golden sands
of some forgotten shore,
smoothed and beautiful.

New but old
New feelings
But old friends
New time
Old place
New boat
Old sea
New outside
Old inside
New friends
Old feelings
Old but new

Cast to the river's depth
Punctured on prevalent pieces
Stone and flesh come to one
Commander has fallen
Leader’s reign comes to an end
Not by human hand
By chance
Roll fate’s dice
Taking up the mantle
Emotions soon dismantled
Feel like an imposter
Invading a title I never deserved
Everyone’s got their doubts
There are many routes
Down to the grave
Avoiding grief at all costs
Last time I led
Looked for bodies not men
Time taught me
Chance is the way of life
Brace the spirits of the men
Recognize the wishes of the women
“Welcome to paradise”
Who’s paradise is this?
Not one I pursue
Slung around wrists
Cold metal I was raised in
Leading brought me trouble
Now I end where I began
On the wrong side of life
Corrupted mind
Purified heart
It’s all I can muster
Fresh out of luster

Awash in dancing sea glass light
I watch the ocean late at night
But I have never been

The only ocean that I know
Is filled with wintry frozen snow
That God did not intend

I wander cross it in a fright
While tripping often as it’s night
And slipping on the snow

An owl wings above my head
Reminding me of seagulls led
By merchants to the coast

A barrel loaded to the brim
And sailors singing salty hymns
Assault my ears and nose

I grasp the rough hewn timber rail
And hear the snapping of the sail
Among the clapping waves

The salty air upon my tongue
Turns dark and rough and then we plunge
Upon a pitching swell

A glowing branch lights up the sky
I see it though I’ve closed my eyes
And shines upon some hell

I know it from my darkest fears
And shun such moaning from my ears
All thought has lost its perch

Wait, no more am I staring out
Aloof, aghast, about to shout
Now I see ice-glazed birch

They shiver slightly with the cold
A breeze picks up and takes its hold
On sounds from far away

A quiet whisper fills my head
The voice that wracks a soul with dread
And grabs me by the feet

I stand there frozen to my spot
But seeing only driftwood rot
And float away from me

The icy hand that grasped my throat
And pricked my skin and thinned my coat
Now plays his lilting harp

I fall into a deepened sleep
His lullaby like counting sheep
And nod off in the snow

When I awake, a tropic storm
Has thundered in to greet with warm
But hellish gusts of air

This vessel is not yours,
But the wheel will still turn
Under your hand.
She creaks at your step
As though you may break through
Her soft Swiss boards.
She is stronger than you.
And she is still yours in part.
Do not forget that this
Is the only reason you do not
Crash below her decks.
She may turn for you,
But you are not welcome
Under the floor you let rot.