Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
RH 78 Feb 2015
17 Shattered skulls bobbing on an ocean of oil.
The crawling skin of sailer souls ready to recoil.

No more rigging 1 less oar.
Beast from the deep allowed to surface once more.

The crows nest falls the skies turn black.
Men overboard who are never coming back.

No more rigging 1 less oar.
Beast from the deep returns to the seabed once more.
We Are Stories Jan 2015
Dear Benny,
I know I left when you were just a small boy
As you watched my ship sail off the shore.
I know I left you and said that I loved you
And I kissed your head as you slept the night before,
But all I can recall is the sad look on your face
As I left without a trace!
I could've sworn I saw the frown in your cheeks
As I packed my bags to leave!
Son, I dream of the days when my apologies would mean something
And you could find the heart to forget someone who never had one!

Well son, your daddy was a pirate!
I left long ago so I could find some island
That we all believed to be out there!
But son I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere!
It's the thoughts of what you look like now,
How you've grown and how your little voice sounds,
That haunt my deepest thoughts and my deepest sorrows!
I just want to hold you in my arms tomorrow!

Oh these waves just rock my heart in circles
Like I used to lull you to sleep as the sun sets!
I wish I never left!
I wish I never left!
My heart's still stained with all my regret!
Just remember that when you grow old and start your life
To never live it the way I lived mine!

I heard you're quite the sailor, son,
And I hear you smile just like your mother.
I hear that mom found another man,
And now you have another brother.
Why won't these chests of gold and bottles of ***
Fill this gaping hole inside my black heart!
All I have left is the bitter taste!
All I have left is the bitter taste!
Alcohol makes it all seem great,
But, Benny, it's brought me to these final days!
Find yourself a wife and kiss your son goodnight!
Because sometimes I dream of the days when I'll die!
And to be honest it's starting to feel good.
Aubrey Jan 2015
I was always a pirate,
but I cried when my mother made me apologize
mouth sticky with taffy
standing, chubby and head hanging at the register.

Fast forward about 15 years and the bag was full before I came in...
sort of...
with each five-fingered purchase,
I flattened filling and raised awareness.

That '86 Royalle Olds' might as well
have had a Jolly Roger on the break light.
Those lawn-lovers had no idea; the gnomes stood no chance.  

The refrigerator in that apartment was a shelf of empty bottles.
My mouth was a shelf of angry urchins;
prickly, and poisonous.

Age made me less salt than ore
and I tried to love the land
with fervency and fear.

Clinging to the pews, the fat lady did sing,
and sing, and sing,
but not the ending.

Once you earn the salt-sailor's badge,
there is no convenient way to dress it up,
but boy does it make a good story from the pulpit.

I can't boast of robbed riches or daring escapes.
My ships were sodden floored and taking weight.
My homesteads, still, were fractured living.

So, no, instead of calling the name a fate, I'd rather gloat.
Raccoons, clever bandits and plunderers they are
do not make excuses for their nature.

They are who they are,
and I...
am a pirate.
Every man should have a boat.
A boat to sail the seas.

If you cannot afford this boat, okay. You have hands. Make one.

And if you do not have hands, then you must use your smile.
For many smiles have paid admittance upon the open blue.

And if you have no smile, then you must speak.
Speak from your heart. For it is this that sets the course of your ship.

But if you have no heart, then you must find one.
For how can a man guide the rudder if he cannot guide his soul?

But if you have no eyes to find your heart.
You must use your ears to listen.

And when you hear the sails, just be ready to jump aboard.

But if you have not sound. And you have no sight. And you have no smile. No heart. No hands.

You

might be the boat.

And I will be your captain.

Alas, we will sail the seas.
I did it, I ain't proud.
If you felt de pain in my urethra,
You'd know.

Had a flashback to me pirate days.
The ocean's waves crash upon de shore.

swish, swish

Me bask in da cool breeze.
Of de Zion Waterfall.

swish, swish

Me hands bleedin' from me wounds.
Turn on de tap and me can't take it no more.

swish, swish

Me urges take a hold of me.
Where to release? How? When?

swish, swish

I'm stuck in de corner, belly churning.
Bottle in de corner of me eye, me start turning.

swish, swish

I'm face-to-face wit salvation.
Fly down, piece out, release de flow!

pssssssssssss

Ahhhhhh, ohhhhhh.
What's an island boy to do?

*No toilet, Mo' problems
Sorry boys, don't drink from dat.
Poetic T Nov 2014
He was only three foot tall, but
He wanted to be like his
Famous daddy
"The pirate" long  bob
Plated
Silver
Toe
A renowned pirate or so
He told me.
So he looked around the house
to what he could find,
A hook was out of reach
As it was dangerous you know,
it could take an eye out
or if trod on cut your toes,
He would have defiantly have shed a
Tear
Or
Three,
So he found a spoon, not
Gold
or
Silver
Not plated precious,
It was copper it would have to do.
So he put his hand up his sleeve,
Holding the spoon quite
Menacingly,
I'll scoop your ice cream
From right under your nose,
One scoop,
Two scoop,
Three,
"Ill bounce the bowl upon your head"
"Then run so you never knows it was me"
"Who had eaten your desert from"
"Right under your nose you see"
He giggled and smiled a child's grin,
What next does a pirate need to be
"King of the sea"
A hat he thought,
As he looked around his fathers hats
Covered his head,
He walked in to
Table
&
Chair,
For it was to big over his eyes,
He was unable to see.
He bounced Off the door, the bed, the
Window sill too, with holes cut he still
Was unable to see properly,
So he got a sock with a patch on the heal
Putting it on his little head
looked in the mirror amused
By what could be seen.
I need one more thing
To be like me pa..
A ship to sail the high sea,
But he was only tiny 3 foot tall was he,
So he looked around
Finding a table in the yard,
Discarded but could be used by he.
"A sail was needed"
A table cloth tied to the back legs
To catch the gusts of wind yar see,
A crew was needed??
But there was only room for
Him
And his parrot
Reginald,
"*******"
"*******"  
He would squawk at me,
A I dry one given and a pat on the
Head from me.
I was known as a captain on
My
Green
Sea,
Plundering the apple tree
The raspberry bush
All the berries were now mine
That I could see,
I wanted to be like my father when I grew up
But lets be realistic I'm three foot
"I'm four and three months"
Who would be scared of little spoon pirate me.
David J Glenn Nov 2014
I got some,

'Sin to admit,
crimes to commit,
words to *****,
'bout to lose it

So, Ay you!

Oy, Crack that drum,
gimme some ***,
make my face numb,
make me feel dumb

Cause I got'

Some **** to steal,
people to ****,
dank drugs to deal,
and pirate appeal
Poetic T Apr 2014
Pieces of eight I got on the high
sea, a tail be told how I got thee.

First was the coin I got off me
mum, as she said have fun my
bearded son. Dont spent it all
on one eye patch or sweets, spend
it wisely my son be the pirate you
wish to be.

So time went on and I kept my coin
I bet it on a chicken race, and won my
second piece, look in my palm its
gold its plain to see.

So I took  a walk on the beach and
in the sand another I did see, my
luck was in. I chewed on it and it
was as real  as could be, this day
I know does have three.

Four and five I won in a bet, but I
have a peg leg where there once
was a foot. Now I  have a wooden
peg but Arrr i won the bet more
gold I see.

Six and seven were as hard as could
be, a dare with a shark, well feed was
he. A hook is all the rage they say.
Mine has a can opener and wi-fi
ya see, I hope that shark gets a grip
inside that hursts it tummy each and every day.

Number eight was what I got for
going to sea, to be the captain of
the pirate vessel king of the seaI.
I roam around the waters me and
my first mate, my monkey horrible pete.

Pirate king I wasnt meant to be, as
this rowboat king of the seal, is hard
to row with one hand and a peg from
the knee. My first mate is a monkey
who works for yellow skins, but he
cant row a boat, short arms has he.

So around and around I go three
foot from the peer, at least I,m  now
in the sea. But my pieces of eight is
all the treasure l will ever see. Me
and my boat and monkey horrible
Pete enjoying our life on the open high sea.
Wrote this for my little ones, hope to get this as a book of three tales..
Poetic T Apr 2014
To be a pirate the things I,d see,
the high waves as the ship goes
up and down, down and up on
the sea. Arrr I feel sick over the
side I will mostly be.

Swab the decks so they be as
clean asthey can be, **** this
boat of wood the splinters I be
getting, I  be needing tweezers
and me mummy.

I want treasure, I want to bury
it where no one can see, I,ve done
this many times but I keep forgetting
as I have a poor memory.

I want to be a pirate, the things
I would see, but I want to put my
flag on themast a smiling skull it
would be.

I,m not a normal pirate as they
seem to say, I be to nice, and
I,m not very good at sea As I,m
always over the side giving the
fish food that comes out of my tummy.

I,m a pirate all can see, I  dont
have a sword as I always  be cutting
my tummy, I dont think I,m cut out
for this life upon the high sea.

I think ill do kids parties with my
ballon sword, no more cuts for me just
out of breath, as it keeps popping in me.

My choclate coins I must remember
are not to buried or to eat, there for
the children arrr no choclate for pirate me.
hope to write a third one make them a book for the children
In the depths, watching, lurking
Duties to perform, never shirking
Drag them down, to the deep unknown
Drag them down, take their souls
Drag them down, make them pay
Drag them down, while far away
A mother lies
A child cries
For the boy
Oh, so young
Who wanted
To be
A
Pirate
Next page