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Josiah Israel Aug 11
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.
It was cold, the breeze  
Next to a window,  I rest
A cup of 5 minutes noodles sat on my hand
Eyes on sunset, I drank the soup.

Poetry book, sleep on my lap
Music in my ears playing Adele
Open sea and I'm in my own world.
Perfect, perfect enough for this art.
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.
Patrick Austin Oct 2018
My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.
Not poetry, but what is life, if not poetry in motion?
Steve May 2016
There was an old lady from Bury
Who fell overboard off a ferry
She dropped in the drink
And started to sink
While a passing shark thought - mmm confectionary
E Townsend Dec 2015
Gimpse in the mirror, hair cascading down
emerald eyes piercing the reflection that isn't entirely yours.
Suddenly you see yourself age 78
overlooking the sea on the balcony, wrinkles traced in hands.
The Bainbridge ferry streams along like always,
dropping off passengers on King Street.
Girls and boys strolling down the avenue
happiness and dreams circling their trails.

You are only twenty. You should be experiencing this too.

Holidays at the pond
reminded you that you were always going to be alone
and look at where you are now.
No one will see the lights with you. No one wants to see
a smile at the bokeh, the incandescent halos
wrapped around the bridges.

You only wanted to be happy.
Rina Vana Nov 2015
Caffeinated air drowns out care for
surrounding discussion
where time is a diamond ring
on this restless city

Wind whips my hair like a weapon
around a weary mind,
blind for a moment before a banister
catches keys and returns hearts in a fluster

Robotic beings waver between ferry floors
ignoring neighboring humans who appear too
busy to say
excuse me

The statue's a bore constructed from
the calloused hands of aged excitement

therefore

no window-seat desires
except that of
a whimsical child's

— The End —