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Aa Harvey Dec 2018
Mop
Mop


Upon this death I see before me,
Four stood soldiers waiting patiently.
Beneath my feet I guess there could be,
An empty space of contemplation.
I built this place for only my eyes to see.
I come here occasionally when I need a vacation.


I am bound to watch the day pass.
I plead ignorance with such sincerity.
Because I stole a broach, apparently, in the past,
I am tied to the mast, by the quarter mast.
Nobody believes in me and as the sun burns my eyes,
I cannot close them for they hold no water inside.
The lid upon my soul is dry,
But I am yet to truly sink into the depths of my subconscious.
I can still hear them talking all their meaningless phrases,
Sounding like a thousand drunken babies,
As I honorably sink deeper into the abyss.


Communication breakdown, silence of the ages,
And all is but a single drop in the ocean; gone are all the praises.
This life of mine hangs in the balance and from the rafters.
I would not jest simply for the amusement of laughter.
With a face of iron, I am all done a-lying.
Stoically I still proclaim to tell the truth from upon high,
For soon I will be dying.


And then I spot the villainous rake,
And all of his duplicitous, surreptitious plots,
That wrap around their feeble minds,
Like the coil of a snake’s tail; their will is soon gone.
So they follow him into the darkness so blind;
Tongue tastes like dust from the burning sunshine.
It intoxicates all the other ship mates into seeing guilty.
Through all their mistakes they have misjudged me.


I am not, nor have I ever been, an infallible being,
But I was never ever seen to steal anything.
I never truly took, because I never truly looked, deep into the chest.
They ripped out my heart in search of plunder through contempt.
Now I stand here lost and all alone;
Shattered through not only a lack of food, but my lost home,
Has been taken from me, by those who would lie.
Why try to enlighten those who will not hear my side?


If I ever speak of this tale again,
Then you should know, I know your face, for it caused me this pain,
And on the day when we come to rest upon the shore,
Or even if we sink, slowly to the ocean floor;
I will remember all you took from me and I will rise with rage.


My silver piece, my one of eight,
They stole it from me and tossed it into the silver plate.
The trust of my shipmates broken this day,
When the end truly comes I will rise again.
I will point a solitary finger in only your direction,
And you will have to look away to hide your guilty expression;
But I never mentioned, just left them guessing.
We are all dead men walking, this death is a blessing.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
8M Dec 2018
My eyes are dull
Darkness flows fast and
Steal my heart and
Fly away

Darkness flows fast and
They'll go avast again
Fly away
Just like the hawks

They'll go avast again
Tooting the horns
Just like the hawks
They've found their prey

Tooting the horns
Searching for love
They've found their prey
Bombs away

Tooting the horns
Steal my heart and
They've found their prey
My eyes are dull
Talis Ren Nov 2018
black, macabre treasure hunt
pirating for souls
mermaids singing songs and lies
waves that demons lull

ships that sail toward candle lights
dying in the wind
searching for where angels sleep
while all they do is sin

waters moving restlessly
from whence lost sailors came
monsters underwater creep
and the driftwood floats away
Josiah Israel Nov 2018
We wander, we wander,
By moonlight, I ponder,
Whilst sailing my ship towards that shimmering star!
How we who are pirates, so willingly wander, both hither and yonder, no matter how far…

Methinks to myself, “Not a bad life to lead, no longer a slave to the land like before…
The wind at my back, so utterly freed, to seek out adventures, on any fair shore!”

“Why do it?” Methinks, as I stand on the prou, the breeze on my face, lightly tossing my locks,
For any a man would be called crazy now, for braving the sharks, and starvation, and pox!

Is it the gold, that calls me to sea? Where hurricanes howl, and sturdy  sails rend!
Or is it the freedom that calls out to me, and gold is not more than a means to an end?

For me, ti’s the freedom, to do what I love, to sail by the light of the stars up above, And stand on my deck, under moonlight, to ponder, how we are those pirates who willingly wander…


My ship, a fine lady, a handsome thing too, a good set of guns with a competent crew, her holds full of treasures, and finest apperal, and row upon row of *** by the barrel!

So drink in the morning, and drink in the evening, and I would be lying if I didn’t say, We guzzle the *** from dusk until dawn, and me-thinks I’ll be sipping it all through the day!

Then we dance on the deck, for the music is playin, the chilly night breeze has our ship gently swayin,

And off once again, for we willingly wander, “But why?”  Says I, as by moonlight I ponder…

Wouldn’t we like to at some place belong? Would dropping our anchor for ever be wrong?

Perhaps there’s a place with a temperate climate, and someone to care for a salty old pirate?

But till that day comes, I shal willingly wander, and whilst I’m the captain, by moonlight I’ll ponder…
I borrowed this poem from my friend, Captain Herraldo, who is in fact a pirate. I took out some of the more gruesome bits —all true accounts— but tried my best to communicate his over arching ideas. He’s a good guy for a pirate!
Äŧül Sep 2018
Where's your pet Sparrow?
Did Edward Teach teach you?
Did you learn sailing from him?
Will you be a Blackbeard too?
Or would you rather not be?
My HP Poem #1719
©Atul Kaushal
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
Mountainous caverns
And cavernous depths
Plague and pillage taverns
Bridle beleaguered breaths

Forward the hour
And hoist the scattered skies
Time not to cower
Behind blatant lies

Prepare for the downfall
As the mountain gives way
Gruesome, thunderous brawl
Is my death in this day

If an avalanche is hell
Then I am surely home
Brokenly beaten and well:
Where chaos freely roams

Forget not our rise
For we are not our sins
But saints in the skies
Banefully, ****** kin

I am a vagabond in hell
And a vagabond: I am free
As heaven rings a final knell
While the mountains collapse for me
Random write, I might come back to this but I enjoyed writing this. Please let me know your thoughts
One
More
Chance
.
One
More
Day
And
Time
For
Us
To
Live
..
What
We­
Had
Was
Lost
And
Broken
.
This
I
Pray

That
Before
I
Lay
Me
Down
To
Sleep

I
Hear
Your
Voice
Gently
Speak
...
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