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#maritime
By one hand the knife made ready, In the other flips a fish; Suddenly, the two are steady In the rhythm of the slish. And worthy men and worthy craft Rebuke the jarring waves that lash Each man starboard, port and aft, With bitter wet and violent crash. And carcass after carcass tossed Lifeless to the ****** hold Shimmers, though the light is lost, And the dreary day grows cold. And vagrants in the trawler’s wake Bobbing back atop the swells Flutter up then swoop to take The sacrament of fish entrails. Here, wind and rain and haze dilute. Yellow, green, red, brown converge. And the gray is absolute, And time and mind and sense diverge. Moments roll as waves uncounted. Thoughts are scattered as debris On pebbles of perception rounded By the endless surge of sea. And rivers rise and passion flows Inward channeled by belief. Images drift by then go To certainty, or doubt so brief. And certain as the banks concede To the wash and swirl and spray So the tide and time recede Shaping yet another day.
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
The Bay at Yakutat
The ocean calls each reckless sailor, Her voice like honey, dark and deep - She whispers gold through storm and gale, A million promises to keep While the mistress softly sleeps. When summer burns and timber bends, When oak meets iron, keel meets wave, A ship takes shape from fevered dreams: Hull carved from hunger, mast from hope, Her canvas sails stretched tight with need. At last the anchor breaks the foam, On amber shores the dreamer lands - Sun-blessed sand or shadowed cove, Strange harbors, wages wild and sweet - And the mistress wakes to weep. For when November's tempest screams, When desperate men claw toward salvation, Torn canvas snaps, the vessel groans, The lady calls the dreamer home To every promise he must keep. Yet still the dream devours the dreamer, And sailors swear like fools again, Make hollow vows, forget their graves, While the mistress of the hungry ocean Croons their names like ancient flame. So when November howls its rage, When timbers crack in brine-soaked keeps, The ocean splits her jaws wide open - And now it is my turn to drown, My turn to promise, my turn to keep.
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Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 6:40 AM UTC
Oath to the Ocean
Bravo (I Am Taking in Dangerous Goods) You made me realize— I’m taking in dangerous goods. I see now I’m no longer an alpha I’m a diver that you have to keep clear of. (alpha means I have a diver down, keep clear) I went overboard the ship This is not acting. I don’t need an Oscar. (Oscar means man overboard.) I hear your echo— Altering my course to the right. I called your Papa— He said, “We’re all on board. No turning back now.” I asked if I should leave you. He said, “He’s Charlie. That answers everything.”* (Charlie means yes.) I saw your new girl, Sierra— She looks like engines Taking you back. (Sierra means engines are astern.) When I believed you were my Romeo— (Though Romeo means nothing at all)— You set me on fire. (Juliet means keep clear—the ship’s aflame.) It made me want to drink whiskey— (Whiskey means I require assistance.) It made me want to check into a hotel, Fly off to India, Or Quebec— Just somewhere I can request free pratique— Be the pilot of my own ship— Out at sea, playing golf. (Golf means I require a pilot.) It’s too bad I don’t have an X-ray To see your intentions. (X-ray means stop carrying out your intentions.) I thought about going back, But I realized it’s November. (November means no.) I should move more like a man named Mike. (Mike means stop.) Even after doing the tango— (Tango means keep clear)— I’m still dragging my anchor— (Yankee means I’m dragging my anchor)— And I need your tug— (Zulu means I require a tug.)
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May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 9:30 PM UTC
A Distress Call Only Sailors Will Understand
Bravo (I Am Taking in Dangerous Goods) You made me realize— I’m taking in dangerous goods. I see now I’m no longer an alpha I’m a diver that you have to keep clear of. (alpha means I have a diver down, keep clear) I went overboard the ship This is not acting. I don’t need an Oscar. (Oscar means man overboard.) I hear your echo— Altering my course to the right. I called your Papa— He said, “We’re all on board. No turning back now.” I asked if I should leave you. He said, “He’s Charlie. That answers everything.”* (Charlie means yes.) I saw your new girl, Sierra— She looks like engines Taking you back. (Sierra means engines are astern.) When I believed you were my Romeo— (Though Romeo means nothing at all)— You set me on fire. (Juliet means keep clear—the ship’s aflame.) It made me want to drink whiskey— (Whiskey means I require assistance.) It made me want to check into a hotel, Fly off to India, Or Quebec— Just somewhere I can request free pratique— Be the pilot of my own ship— Out at sea, playing golf. (Golf means I require a pilot.) It’s too bad I don’t have an X-ray To see your intentions. (X-ray means stop carrying out your intentions.) I thought about going back, But I realized it’s November. (November means no.) I should move more like a man named Mike. (Mike means stop.) Even after doing the tango— (Tango means keep clear)— I’m still dragging my anchor— (Yankee means I’m dragging my anchor)— And I need your tug— (Zulu means I require a tug.)
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There's something about the sea: In feeling a force of nature, So much stronger than yourself, Surround you in its embrace. There's something about the waves, Their raw power, Their cool, demanding strength. And there's something about his hands, His voice, his eyes. The way his body pulls mine under, Like waves, Indomitable, forceful, Alive. And I'm floating. I'm sinking. I'm thrown around in the current. In his arms: the sea; The breath he steals Then grants it back. And I pray only That the tide never subsides.
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Aug 28, 2022
Aug 28, 2022 at 4:56 AM UTC
Maritime
mermaid purses, vales of kelp, swinging skyward with the swell of nautic rhythms - submarine - with incandescent, algal green. in underworlds, cathedrals blue, we waltz in coral halls anew, adorned in silks of woven foam: forgotten cold Atlantic home.
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Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 11:51 AM UTC
Seafoam
Avertable impact Ripped open lid The fuse lit And die they did Imo Mont-Blanc The harbor a carcass Their treasures sunk Dartmouth Richmond Tufts Cove One last gasp in the sun Wretched captains As kings who fought over Duchess of Aquitaine Everything to lose Nothing to gain "She may one day queen it over that fair demesne..."
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Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 10:56 AM UTC
Halifax Maritime Disaster, 1917
To all my co-seafarers out there We're a kind of man that is rare Sailing port to port is never easy It makes our mind look messy Grieve to achieve more and more We sail to make our own lore It's hard to have a safe sail you know, Just to make my times flow and glow For our family's on our homelands Too far but cannot cut our bonds Even if we are far from our loveones A day with them will be our lance As we sail through depths of sea Only the future in your eyes, I see Partly inloved without a body, Of me waiting to be full heartedly It's sad to say how people judge us Disregarding it but it has a mass We don't talk for us to believe Is these words is what you give? They say we're fool and full Fool to trust our "I Love You" And full of girls that we've made "I do" But they know nothing but judgements It feels good when you're way back home Stealing kisses and hugs that comes Years or months? Sad but there's also weeks But its fine even a peke on your chicks It's hard when we need to leave again Let we connect with a paper and a pen Our eyes won't lie to "I miss you" All I wanted is to be with you As of now we're heading east To sail to other lands for a fiest Not to make love to other girls I'll finish my job and buy you rose
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
What does it take to be a Seafarer
I am a Harbor Moss-covered barnacles govern my legs, and my back is drenched in fog. My wooden walkways creak, and the wind makes me groan with loneliness; but life stirs underneath, in waves. Ships arrive at the worst hour, full of regrets and suspicions, and aches and envies, and troubles and fears. I welcome angry sailors, the worst of all mankind, to drink at my tavern, and dangle their feet off my docks, and stare at the sea. They look east by southeast, north by northwest, to home, where only memories return. Some men are bustling airports; they welcome millions a day, and millions a night, see them off to other skies and do it over again. But I am a jealous Harbor. I keep my vessels with me forever. I guard them with an icy peace. And relish in the slap of the sea. And bathe in the salt of the wind.
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Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC
I am a Harbor
He was a water sign. You could tell by his ocean cool, his balmy breeze, his gently rolling tides. He touched my skin like the sun and his kiss stung like sea salt on my chapped winter lips. 
 But all seas see their storms. He could be a riptide, pulling me deeper and deeper until I was choking on salt water and he was pushing me further and further from what I knew. And he could come crashing down like a tsunami, ripping everything apart in his wake. 
But he was a Cancer. Cancers carry our homes on our backs, so we choose to avoid tumultuous weather and brackish waves. We prefer low tides. So even when my northern winds tore through his hot summer, even when I snowed him in and froze him out, he kept his waters still, not for my sake, but for his.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC
I Hope Your Coat is Buttoned