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Amanda Francis Dec 2018
Loving you was like being drunk.
Not love drunk.
A navy sailor forgetting his own name kinda drunk.

Maybe I be a navy sailor, my submarine has surfaced.
Battered ****** from a war you raged.
I can see the sun above the lapping water.

I feel your entitlement crumble away from me.
The sun was never 'yours', neither was i.
This vast ocean was trying to drown you first.

If I would have known, I'd of kicked you off this ship.
Made you walk the creaking of plank lies you made.
My body is a vessel you can not sail! Can not command, Pilot!

My sober head aches, the *** leaches away and gifts me clarity.
I've been drunk this entire time!
My heart is not broken, just hungover!
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!
Mitch Prax Apr 2018
***
Our first drink of *** was sweet.
It coated our tongues
with spice and the back
of our throats with a burn.
For a moment
I was scared,
because oh,
how easily one can get hooked.
Cana Mar 2018
Dockside and braai
*** and candy on the speaker
Fire crackling merrily
Burgers marinating
*** captivating
Me salivating
The better way to spend the day.
Cana Mar 2018
The baroque grandeur of
Warm seas on velvety spring evenings
Is in stark contrast to the ache
In my hands from the aircon being
Just too ******* cold.

And

Who do these stars think they are?
This heavenly phosphorescence
Placed so precisely on the lapel of
The night sky.
A supernova pocket square?

And

What is the story with this ***?
Wheedling it’s way down my throat
To try and melt the tremors in
The pit of my belly.
It’s ****** well working.
Cana Feb 2018
***
it’s the famed drink of pirates.
It’s a poor substitute for sedatives
Once again my trusty friend has failed in his task
Is the pain stronger?
Can the mind no longer be deadened by such
Does it take a narcotic of higher potency?
Is there such a substance?
It doesn’t help anymore.
Cana Feb 2018
Morning mood was bleak
Spiced with some Jazz, a poached egg and Appreciation.

Noon was carnival!
BBQ on the dock sprinkled with tropical house and a heavy dose of ***.

Night was narcissism
Sinful Bourbon and banana desserts, cigarettes aplenty, blue lights and bad habits
Day 6 was a good day.
b Oct 2017
A *** and coke
On a Sunday evening.
The perfect prize
For a vacation I'm paying for.

My first drink runs through me
Like blood does
But I still remember the dates
Like tattoos in my eyelids.
Images and memories I could never unsee.

A therapy session with an empty chair beside me.
Begging for somebody.
The headache wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
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