Chiara, Arturo's wife, approached them together with
Lucca and Francesca, the other Italian pair
Saying, ''Was Quare's invention real? I thought it was a myth.''
'' His barometer measures the pressure of the air.''


Chiara was wearing a red gown, with lace trimming the low,
A green velvet mantel, which was lined with some ermine,
Square neckline and sleeves, which were gathered at the elbow.
She spoke well Italian, Spanish, and German.


Italians wanted to disembark at Syracuse.
Bella and Miguel traveled to Barcelona home.
To find a new home, Naimah and his son had an excuse.
Out of their Turkey's limit, through the storms, they would roam.


Tia, Athan, Megan, and Karsten would disembark
At Selanik, an Ottoman province, where Ahmed
The Third was reigning while his war was a fire in the dark.
They were Greeks being born during the reign of Mehmed.


Marco and Rosa, Cruz and Pedra, Pedro and Carla
Were Portuguese pairs coming home from America.
They had bought from the Pueblo Indians some ollas.
They gave one to the Russian pair, Ivan, and Erica.


Ivan said, ''Tell me something about these Indians.''
Carla said, ''Their belief means dualism; they eat corn.
Some became Catholic due to the Spanish civilians.
They think they emerged from underwater to be born.''


Carla wore a black cap, having a veil, and a green gown
Patterned with acorns and flowers, and her sleeves were caught
With jeweled clasps on lace at the elbow; her eyes were brown.
''The water is fresh in the ollas, I like them a lot.''

She asked Ivan’’ Now, where do you go? ’’ ‘’We left the war.’’
''Ahmed and Peter the First! '' replied Cruz, '' tell me something,
How could you reach Constantinople after coming from far? ''
''I do trade with them, but this war destroyed everything.''

''Did you lose everything you had? '' Marco asked Ivan.
''To make business in Turkey, I sold all my Russian goods.''
Erica tried this conversation to enliven,
''In Portugal, we'll search for a job in cities and hoods.''

Marco wore a banyan with a patterned lining; his cuffs
Were embroidered in gold; his justacorps and stockings
Over his breeches were red like Rosa's shoes and muffs.
All of them wore periwigs and talked a lot while walking.

( To be continued...)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Mary had nine cannons to defend against the pirates.
The passengers lived in large cabins having low ceilings.
This carrack was steered by Sam, the best between pilots.
Three decks and the crew's quarters made it look as a building.


Their quarters and the captain's house were on the upper deck.
With a long boat and a shallop, this carrack was safe.
The galley was near the cabins; no one was put in check.
Its food didn't push people against the restraints to chafe.

This vessel had hatches to be used between the floors.
On the lower deck, near the cargo, 'twas the gun room.
They stored there guns, powder and shot using some locked doors.
Their scent was blurred by the meats and by the ladies' perfume.


The waves and the missing light made this deck cold and damp
For flour, biscuits, dried meats and vegetables, water and beer.
The ****** entered there only using a small lamp.
One by one, Sam and Sulim moved the rudder to steer.


The capstan used to heave up the anchor, was at the bow.
The binnacle stood directly in front of the wheel.
Through the compass, to have a night vision it could allow.
The magnetic deviation they could see and feel.

The sailors used the hourglass to measure their duty time
An astrolabe helped them see the position of stars.
Their chip board measured the speed during the stormy clime.
The Cross staff was skillful to see those ships of wars.

''Give me the quadrant to see that dawn star's altitude! ''
Freddy told Sam.''Why did you choose to buy a carrack? ''
''Provisions for long sails, but I can't say with certitude.
It's stable in heavy seas and helpful during attacks.''

'Did you hear about der Eyck? '' Continued Frederick.
''His instrument for longitudes and latitudes is new, ''
Said Arturo, a Spanish passenger, '' not a trick.''
''I'll buy the Plantius' version for me and my crew.''

(to be continued..)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

I toss and turn
Like a ship in the ocean
Like a mad man
Void of emotion

Compass points to
Wealth and riches
Full speed ahead
To beers and *******

Had enough of these
Lying deceiving
Girls who say
They're never leaving

But as soon as
The adventure ends
They write me off
As less than friends

They say any port
Is good in the storm
As long as it has alcohol
And a place to keep warm

I don't look at
Life that way
I look for the port
To stay

But all this time
Coasting trial and error
Play my cards carefully
Cuz I'm afraid to scare her..

But here I am
Still sailing
To that woman worth
More than nailing.

A notch on the belt
Of captain yours truly
A tad bit corny
***** and unruly

Maybe I'll find her
Somewhere more exotic
Find that woman that
Defines mere ******

But until that day
Comes with the horizon
I seek my comfort
In the eyes and the thighs in..

The place I wake up
Safe and warm
Because there is truth in..
Any port in the storm.

Catching a star, rushing forward the frigate,
Through the storm ahead, the bowsprit of his high,
But ahead all the same abyss without borders,
The desert of black waters in silence of latitudes.

Cracks and groans bom-topgallant topmast,
Chiseling strong ezelgof,
Mars and Ray converged with parrel in battle,
With a dream - to get rid of the shackles.

The wave growls, rolling terribly,
And with the power of the wind jib-boom mast on the beats,
And a low, menacing sound of the cello,
It is suddenly heard from the blackening heights,

That drill groans together with a heavy wind,
The key of the forgotten Symphony are trying to find,
And torn violin strings - moaning times through the centuries,
And killed the brave men among depths.

The thunder storm is rushing with noise, howling,
Shaking stars in heavens,
And the thunder echoes it a disparate,
And the frigate is hurtling on the sails.

Ah , those waterfront alley cats
Full of scars and paws
Fip Flip Flip , go the blades
Around the Heart's hub
As transon's go , they do
Take a beating in the ruff
And your spinnaker flurls
To the magic winds of
The long lost voice of midnight
No need to tack
All is "Flying"
And the Sphinx
Is smiling in silence

Have you ever stood outside
On a cold and windy day
And felt what the wind tastes like
As it moves along it's way ?

Have you tasted wind in summer
Hot and sticky in your throat
Have you tasted it while fishing
Standing on a sailing boat?

Have you tasted wind and liked it
Just before a summer storm
As it flows down past your gullet
Is it beautiful and warm ?

It is a simple gesture
Standing, tasting moving air
I don't think you'd really notice
Until it wasn't there

Esopheagal cancer
Stops the wind inside the throat
the simple act of tasting wind
Is now something in my note

Now, think of tasting wind again
Try tasting through a mask
You try but cannot taste it
It's not a simple task

Enjoy the feeling of the wind
Remember how it tastes
Different seasons, different textures
It's a feeling not to waste.

The bricks of the human world are dying.

Others are being born as we speak,
But others still are dying
And the world is dying and changing with them.

Some are dying in bleachy hospital rooms
With blood-smeared hands,
But others are not.

The world is dying in fields
With a back lain-upon by fresh harvest,
Hands caked in loam
And a face creased by sun.

The world is dying in factories,
Gazing its brains out through the smog
And over clamorous machinery,
Bleeding tears into cheap t-shirts.

The world is dying in offices,
Dreams pulled out and splayed about
Like a salmon's innards
Upon the printer-paper butcher board.

The world is dying at sea,
With salt-crusted hair
And burning, split calluses,
Beety droplets staining the passive blue.

The world dies in death:
In rusty mill bones
And hollow farms
Rented out to memories.

The world is dying,
And where is the ceremony?
Where is the procession?
Where is the twenty-one gun salute?

The world goes into many graves
Packaged in a homemade box,
With Duty fulfilled
And not a single note of "Taps".

Third time's the charm
and you've only ripped my heart out
twice

Let me drink the poison
one more time

The first time I was quenching my thirst
with salt water
in hopes the wounds
would heal
and then I swallowed the sea
because my sailor
would not look at me

The next time
I closed my eyes
at the sight of the waves coming
so I cannot blame you
for pulling me under

I will stay afloat this time
unless your anchor has grown
and you still find a way
to drown me
in the tears I created

I won't know until I try

It's alienation across the nation.


End of the break
the whistle's blowing
The sailors going only a short way
to heavens
Subterranean souls, yet
extraterrestrial minds
(I want to have a magnificent, celestial time)
Someone is dead
True, someone might be
curled in dread, somewhere
But the staff chooses not to
voice these concerns
to their guests

They-are-all
transported
to a place where their veins
don't show up blue
under that black light, yellow
dans-le-ciel
It's a dalliance for souls
(They are all lost.)
A denouement for souls
(How much does it cost?)

Better question,
who sends them here
(Every zephyr is cold)
who sends them here
to die and behold?
If I had a friend
they would ask,
"Why so alone?"
Because I move with the

Tintinnabulation across the nation.
People saying the most
cringe-worthy---
Like the nation
I fear I have become
an *imbrication
repeating myself in every
application
Working on that steamboat
the-band-wagon
isn't as good as it gets
Saccharine, summery lake
Do we, perhaps, need to escape?

And, perhaps, we can.

Dominated as we are
by Society, who is crying in need
Believes we must be a
panoply!