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Michael Lord Sep 23
Ferry rocks on waves
Teddy bear reeks of *****
Seagull soars past me
I once experienced a very stormy, wind-blown crossing of the Strait of Juan de Fuca.  Many a traveler were half armpit supported, half drug out onto the open deck where they cemented cold hands to the steel railing and hurled breakfast into the sea.
Erwinism Sep 2024
Yesterday hid behind the dense
switchgrass
on the look out for us
to light candles of thought,
so it may remind us

of scent, quiet but lingering,
of a fragrance, infused beneath memories’ skin
and ferry us back in time.
seeking forgiveness,
seeking that we might forget,
on the eyes of restlessness an obol shall rest
and leave what was as dead,
as if a rash, cooled to no longer rage,
to no longer itch.

Yet, we can’t forget.
Unbidden, yesterday returns as spring
but with a hint of winter
and the frailty of things.

Do must we,
But break clocks
And wish gears lost,
In the end we are found
On the road where we
left our ghosts.
Steve Page Dec 2022
Don't be a local.
Don't deny yourself the wonder.
Don't forego the sunlight,
the movement of the sky
the dance of the water

Don't be a local.
Don't focus on timetables.
Don't get lost in ferry dramas.
Lift your head into the wind
and take in the glacial.
Good advice from good friends
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Styx
by Michael R. Burch

Black waters—deep and dark and still.
All men have passed this way, or will.

Published by The Raintown Review and Blue Unicorn. Also translated into Romanian by Petru Dimofte. This is one of my early poems, written as a teenager. I believe it was my first epigram. Keywords/Tags: River Styx, death, Charon, ferry, passage, black, waters, deep, dark, still, undeniable, inescapable, eternal, eternity
Josiah Israel Aug 2019
So, on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, Doby Greenhorn prepared to leave. He packed some provisions; a compass, a large box of matches, some rope, a leather bottle full of water, a little money, a sturdy walking stick and some other odds and ends his mother threw at him. And, as the poem goes…


“As I set out, in early morn, the whole world for to see,
These are the things my blessed mother, came and said to me.”

“Beware the fettered Giant, In the valley down below! Restrained by iron ringlets, near the well where lovers go…

Beware the flaxen Ferry, if you see him down the lane, he’ll offer you the world and more, but only bring you pain…

Be not dismayed by goblins if they’re out during the day, just teach them a new riddle and they’ll let you on your way.

A blackened cat upon the road will bring bad luck it’s said, unless you chase it down at once, and beat it till it’s dead!

But most important, is that song, which lures all men near… The sound like golden honey being spooned into your ear! A song which sparks that deepest longing, a sense of warmth and cheer!

The song of evil Sirens is the thing which most I fear…

So put thy hand across thy breast and make a solemn pledge, to never follow lilting tunes up to the waters edge!

And if you do, and see a maiden bathing in the sun, more beautiful then any queen that ever had been won! With eyes as green as sun bleached moss and face pleasant and fun, Who’s magic makes it quite impossible for you to run!

Then draw thy dagger from thy waist and place it to thy beating heart, and plunge that steel with all thy strength, to lay thy noble breast apart!

Far better be, to take thy life and keep thy soul embowered, then ever kiss those bitter lips and have thy flesh devoured!

For Sirens never eat the dead, and though thy blood runs ruby red, thy honor rests upon thy head, and follows thee to life after…”

”I made the pledge, and kissed her face, and off I went my path to chase! With dagger hanging from my waist… That dagger dangling at my waist… “
This is a small piece of a story I wrote, about a very unlucky boy named Doby Greenhorn.
Paige Error Dec 2018
Lights flicker lamentfully leaning left. The metallic groan of the ship echoes through its chasms. It travels swiftly growing soft as it ventures further into the depths. The crash of waves ceaselessly chanting like an old drinking song. Cargo shifts suddenly straining against its restraint. The dank and damp deck is desolately decorated. In the dim light shadows torture the imagination with visions of fantastic nightmares and beautiful beasts. A violent stop sends you reeling backwards. You’re stomach fills with lead as you reluctantly climb to your feet. The door cracks open to reveal hollow eyes. As the door widens you are greeted by a devilish grin belonging to a devilishly handsome fellow. He exstends his hand but not in offering. No, this was a sinister demand. With shaking hands you sacrifice two golden coins to his strong hand. He grins and holds the door open for you with grandeur. Your breath catches in your thoat. Fear strangles you silently spreading though your body. Paralysis plagues you presently playing with your mind. But this is no time for fear. This is time for peace. So with closed eyes and baited breath you pass through the door and into eternity.
I really love Greek mythology so I thought I’d write about it
Star BG Nov 2018
I poet,
took a ferry on rhyming wave.
Its peaks white
danced to merge
with creative flow.
It vibrated
behind lense of eyes
gracefully.

Smells of salty air
filled lungs to expand heart.
Birds flew gracefully
with song to launch ditty.

I poet
took trip on a word breaker,
that mirrored sounds
aimed at others.

Sounds that made
a piece of poetry
ripple
in a readers eye.
just playing with thought of riding a creative wave.
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