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"battened" poems
We embarked upon a titanic voyage to a new world. It’s said that behind every great man there's a great woman; But a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. 7 bells rang late that night, as our ship stuck fast; between the devil and the deep blue sea. Fingers frantic! tapping code…—-… Sailors quickly battened down the hatches and stowed away the Riff-raff, for they knew fine words would butter no parsnips, Better here than there in third class. Some fiddlers on the deck played “Nearer My God to Thee", As the bubbles rose from beneath the sea, come buckle down boys for the devils to pay, come hell or high water he’ll have his pay. Mothers row, land lubbers row, it's time to leave this god forsaken place. pulling hard for freedom. Ten steel decks split and snap, as they join the ***** and hundreds either shriek or pray; as La dolce vita slowly ebbed away. Mercifully the cacophony descends ever silent, as fifteen hundred souls become neither fish nor flesh, rotting from the head down. Save our souls •••- - - •••. … — …
0
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
Gigantic
i kept my hatches battened but that didn't stop your love from barreling toward me like a runaway freight train with faulty breaks. and god almighty, did we crash. you came to a screeching halt at my doorstep and i didn't know what else to do but let you in. you looked so cold. we did not start with a spark but a full-on fire. i told myself i wouldn't fall, instead i jumped. our sinking frames somehow morphed into life preservers, and we managed to keep each other's heads above the waves. we had seemingly saved one another. you tossed your pills, i flushed my razors, and for a while that was enough. but we learned the hard way that even the deepest love can only keep the storm clouds in your mind at bay for so long. eventually our cracks began to show. missed calls and silent hours built houses of cards that were blown down by too many miles. we hardly ever smiled anymore. my hands were sieves and yours were sand. i want to break the hands of the clock that cursed us with this bad timing. i have mourned all the hours i won't ever have with you. i have felt the thunder that rumbles in my lungs when i reminisce about the memories we'll never make. the moment i realized i would never wake up beside you an atom bomb went off in the center of my chest. but the radiation is what's killing me. the life is being drained from me here in the wake, in the ache of your absence. but i won't beg. i will live out the remainder of my days tormented by wondering if maybe in another world our love is perfect and neither of us bleed. - m.f.
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
Untitled
i kept my hatches battened but that didn't stop your love from barreling toward me like a runaway freight train with faulty breaks. and god almighty, did we crash. you came to a screeching halt at my doorstep and i didn't know what else to do but let you in. you looked so cold. we did not start with a spark but a full-on fire. i told myself i wouldn't fall, instead i jumped. our sinking frames somehow morphed into life preservers, and we managed to keep each other's heads above the waves. we had seemingly saved one another. you tossed your pills, i flushed my razors, and for a while that was enough. but we learned the hard way that even the deepest love can only keep the storm clouds in your mind at bay for so long. eventually our cracks began to show. missed calls and silent hours built houses of cards that were blown down by too many miles. we hardly ever smiled anymore. my hands were sieves and yours were sand. i want to break the hands of the clock that cursed us with this bad timing. i have mourned all the hours i won't ever have with you. i have felt the thunder that rumbles in my lungs when i reminisce about the memories we'll never make. the moment i realized i would never wake up beside you an atom bomb went off in the center of my chest. but the radiation is what's killing me. the life is being drained from me here in the wake, in the ache of your absence. but i won't beg. i will live out the remainder of my days tormented by wondering if maybe in another world our love is perfect and neither of us bleed. - m.f.
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33
A ship in a bottle is a useless thing, encapsulated, isolated. It is meant to be crewed. We are each holographic captains seeking first mates and yeomen to climb the riggings and guide us through the storms. Floating colonies needing founding, battened hatches guarding dwindling stores and shielding superstitious sailors galore. We must learn to trust our crews and captains alike to brave the rough seas and coral reefs of life and nature's faith. Sometimes ships run aground, the founding of the colony, and then sandcastles reign supreme. We must learn to trust our crews and captains alike to learn from their faith in nature. We must build upon the dunes, carrying buckets of water and trust from the sea to inland shores.  The castle, like the ship, will one day be reclaimed by the sea, despite our efforts. We build them anyway out of hope, fearing faith, learning trust, while wishing we were safe in a bottle.
0
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
Exploration
The clouds hid the red sky that day Amid the wind and rain No red sky meant no sailors warning The waves broke high and hard They passed the breakers and the kegs They missed the red sky morning The ships out on the water From the shore to the Grand Banks Were helpless in the coming storm No choice to turn and run The best bet was stay put There was no port to get warm The skies were filled with nothingness the clouds like a sharks eye Shades of black were all they saw The icy waves of winter Broke the calm of the early morn For red sky in the morning is an unwritten sailors law The Captain closed the bar down On the Digby ferry crossing The doors were being opened by each wave They couldn't see the white caps Only sky and see was all And the souls he had to save There were fifteen boats in transit When the storm came bearing down Most were halfway home or so Now they all were stranded In the journey between heaven and hell Which direction they were headed only God would know Turn sideways and you'd flip it Just sit still and you were dead You had to ride the water hellish ride Hatches all were battened Windows sealed and doors shut tight Sailors tried to stay inside Water spouts were forming Off the stern and then the port Navigate the safest spot and keep low The door to Davy Jones' locker Was opened and ready to accept Any boat who made the choice to venture down below On shore the coast guard were all scrambled Planes were sent out just in case More to recover than to save Families awaited word by radio The lines from all the ships were down Some lost to a watery grave Each year the ocean opens up Mother Nature takes some back It's just the circle of life at sea Prayers are said at the Mariners Hall Bells are rung for the dead The sailors soul belongs to the water and it never can be free Are you one that lives on water? You know one day your luck will end You knew this fact from the start Sailors know the sea's a minefield It's a war with God each day You have to fight with all your heart
0
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
The sudden storm
The clouds hid the red sky that day Amid the wind and rain No red sky meant no sailors warning The waves broke high and hard They passed the breakers and the kegs They missed the red sky morning The ships out on the water From the shore to the Grand Banks Were helpless in the coming storm No choice to turn and run The best bet was stay put There was no port to get warm The skies were filled with nothingness the clouds like a sharks eye Shades of black were all they saw The icy waves of winter Broke the calm of the early morn For red sky in the morning is an unwritten sailors law The Captain closed the bar down On the Digby ferry crossing The doors were being opened by each wave They couldn't see the white caps Only sky and see was all And the souls he had to save There were fifteen boats in transit When the storm came bearing down Most were halfway home or so Now they all were stranded In the journey between heaven and hell Which direction they were headed only God would know Turn sideways and you'd flip it Just sit still and you were dead You had to ride the water hellish ride Hatches all were battened Windows sealed and doors shut tight Sailors tried to stay inside Water spouts were forming Off the stern and then the port Navigate the safest spot and keep low The door to Davy Jones' locker Was opened and ready to accept Any boat who made the choice to venture down below On shore the coast guard were all scrambled Planes were sent out just in case More to recover than to save Families awaited word by radio The lines from all the ships were down Some lost to a watery grave Each year the ocean opens up Mother Nature takes some back It's just the circle of life at sea Prayers are said at the Mariners Hall Bells are rung for the dead The sailors soul belongs to the water and it never can be free Are you one that lives on water? You know one day your luck will end You knew this fact from the start Sailors know the sea's a minefield It's a war with God each day You have to fight with all your heart
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60
Clouds are forming layers   The sky is turning gray Wind is dancing happily The trees begin to sway Creatures crawl inside Fires stoked up to heat Hatches battened down Prayers said for the wheat The ditches might flood Roofing will be torn apart But Idaho storms are lovely Like a beautiful work of art.
0
Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 3:50 PM UTC
Idaho Storms
There was a time when we were strangers; ships that passed in the cover of night. We sailed parallel those lonely waters not knowing that soon we'd be in sight. There was a time when we were friends; you wished only to reach the shore, but my compass was spinning, our journey just beginning and so I took you aboard. There was a time when we were lovers, but our ship soon started to leak. We battened the hatches, bailing her out, but hopes were battered and meek. An unspoken pact and a final kiss, letting you drift from my fingertips. I readied the very last lifeboat, but the captain goes down with the ship. Strangers become lovers and lovers become strangers through sailing the seas of time, but this mariners tragedy's worth the memories of when I called you mine.
0
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 11:10 PM UTC
Shipwreck
I’d only been home for a week or two And Jeanine was acting queer, Each time she’d pass the mirror she’d stare And I heard her say, ‘Oh dear!’ I’d been away for five long years But she hadn’t changed a bit, Each time I’d ask, she’d cover her ears: ‘I have to go to The Crypt!’ I thought that she meant the local club Where they drank and danced all night, ‘Aren’t you a little too old for that,’ I’d say, and her face turned white. ‘You’re only as old as you feel,’ she snapped, ‘If only,’ was my reply, ‘Whether we like it or not, we age, And then, we finally die.’ She put her hands to her ears, and shrieked, ‘Don’t ever say that to me! You can die, but I’ll still go on, I’ll be what I want to be.’ I stood quite shocked as she raved, she cried And turned and ran from the room, I didn’t know what to make of her, So sat, half stunned in the gloom. She’d always worried about her looks Had made up her face for hours, I’d said, ‘You’re really compulsive, Sis,’ She’d take innumerable showers. I said, ‘You’re washing yourself away, There’ll be no oil in your skin.’ ‘But don’t you think that I’m beautiful,’ She’d say, with an evil grin. She’d never married, but dated men Who would compliment on her looks, ‘He said I’m like Cleopatra,’ or, ‘Like Helen of Troy in the books!’ ‘Words are cheap,’ I would say to her And she’d fly right into a rage, ‘You’re always trying to put me down!’ ‘You’re like a bird in a cage! Always fluffing your feathers up To say, ‘Hey look at me!’ Don’t you care for the things in life That are not complimentary?’ But she would shrug and ignore me then She was vain beyond compare, I didn’t know that she’d signed a pact With the Devil, in her despair. The weeks went by and her mood got worse, She was nervous, I could see, Her hands would tremble and she would curse Applying her toiletry. The wrinkles set in around her eyes ‘So much for that cream I bought! I’ll have to go to The Crypt,’ she cried, And burst in tears at the thought. One day I spied her out in the street Down by a ruined church, She forced her way past the battened door And disappeared with a lurch. I waited hours, out there in the street To see when she’d reappear, Then realised she’d gone to the crypt In the bowels of that church, in there. She came out walking, as in a trance, So beautiful, redefined, I couldn’t believe the change in her, I thought that I’d lost my mind. The girl I saw was only a shell Of the woman who once was whole, Whoever she’d met in that evil crypt Had walked away with her soul! David Lewis Paget
0
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 5:24 AM UTC
The Crypt
I’d only been home for a week or two And Jeanine was acting queer, Each time she’d pass the mirror she’d stare And I heard her say, ‘Oh dear!’ I’d been away for five long years But she hadn’t changed a bit, Each time I’d ask, she’d cover her ears: ‘I have to go to The Crypt!’ I thought that she meant the local club Where they drank and danced all night, ‘Aren’t you a little too old for that,’ I’d say, and her face turned white. ‘You’re only as old as you feel,’ she snapped, ‘If only,’ was my reply, ‘Whether we like it or not, we age, And then, we finally die.’ She put her hands to her ears, and shrieked, ‘Don’t ever say that to me! You can die, but I’ll still go on, I’ll be what I want to be.’ I stood quite shocked as she raved, she cried And turned and ran from the room, I didn’t know what to make of her, So sat, half stunned in the gloom. She’d always worried about her looks Had made up her face for hours, I’d said, ‘You’re really compulsive, Sis,’ She’d take innumerable showers. I said, ‘You’re washing yourself away, There’ll be no oil in your skin.’ ‘But don’t you think that I’m beautiful,’ She’d say, with an evil grin. She’d never married, but dated men Who would compliment on her looks, ‘He said I’m like Cleopatra,’ or, ‘Like Helen of Troy in the books!’ ‘Words are cheap,’ I would say to her And she’d fly right into a rage, ‘You’re always trying to put me down!’ ‘You’re like a bird in a cage! Always fluffing your feathers up To say, ‘Hey look at me!’ Don’t you care for the things in life That are not complimentary?’ But she would shrug and ignore me then She was vain beyond compare, I didn’t know that she’d signed a pact With the Devil, in her despair. The weeks went by and her mood got worse, She was nervous, I could see, Her hands would tremble and she would curse Applying her toiletry. The wrinkles set in around her eyes ‘So much for that cream I bought! I’ll have to go to The Crypt,’ she cried, And burst in tears at the thought. One day I spied her out in the street Down by a ruined church, She forced her way past the battened door And disappeared with a lurch. I waited hours, out there in the street To see when she’d reappear, Then realised she’d gone to the crypt In the bowels of that church, in there. She came out walking, as in a trance, So beautiful, redefined, I couldn’t believe the change in her, I thought that I’d lost my mind. The girl I saw was only a shell Of the woman who once was whole, Whoever she’d met in that evil crypt Had walked away with her soul! David Lewis Paget
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73
The sky grew dark and the wind full voiced so I furled my single sail. I battened down the hatches fearful of the coming gale the clouds were low and threatening They oft are this time of year. They made me wish I could be somewhere, anywhere, but here. Random bolts of lightening streaked across the sullen sky. Waves took and shook my little boat. I thought that I might die. A tingle of anxiety I felt it in my gut Imagine how relieved I felt when the director hollered "Cut!"
0
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
The Sea Witch
It's not debatable We are meant to be Indestructible Talking you and me Two peas in our pod Grooving home alone No, no, no don't you touch that telephone After nuzzling comes the cuddling I like you next to me So glad you like the dark chocolate Here's the milk with honey Let's binge watch our new fave You're all the company I could ever want Thanks for loving me We've battened up the hatches The rain ain't coming in We're in this for the long haul Three day weekends are just right, To hang out with my baby doll Morning, noon and night.
0
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
Three Day Weekend
primal cave warm coals glow in an iron grate dream lives flicker in dancing flames hatches battened around the ramparts of terraced council home droplets run on window panes coursing rivers to the sea we are alone suspended natural animation with only ourselves to blame
0
Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 6:13 PM UTC
storm
I will wait outside because you've locked the doors, battened down the hatches, and prepared for a storm but the day will come when you’re not afraid anymore and I’ll be where you left me because I've always been yours.
0
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
I Will Wait Outside
Talk to me, can you hear me O’ Lord? Send me something that I can not ignore, Staring at seas from the cold lonely shore, What of future? Can the angels be calling? I was young when you embraced me, When you opened my mind to the world’s mystery, I came home and started a family, Three bundles of joy near a bountiful sea, …and this life? Has the Age begun falling? Cattle left unattended and the goats without shepherd? Were sacrifices left for the goat, bull, crab or leopard? Battened down hatches as rains poured in the cube, The square in the circle that Saturn had drew, Eerie creaks, minor leaks, anxiety and the fear, Prophesied, built as planned, as the waters drew near, Talk to me, I am struggling O’ Lord, Is this it? The message that cannot be ignored, I was young when you embraced me, When you showed me the wonders of the land and the sea, I built you this house and filled it with Thee, Will we make it? The waves are appalling... One Man knew where his place was with god, inundation, extirpation, traded hammer for rod. A Great Bird of Paradise, was beckoning her call, swarms of bats and songbirds ahead of the squall. Open the porthole; we are saving them all, as the ship sets loose as the giants did fall. Drop the rope, do it now, so we can, plumb the depth, She cried out; “Where to live, who will rule and what shall be left?” “O’ Noah!” I’m now old, but will you embrace me? I now know you’ve been there since the dawning of history, We’re adrift, all is lost and their drowning in sea, Nothing’s left, but the gig-an-to-machy, The reigns of your horse are now pulling us free, “Release all the doves for I know now that he is with me!” “O’ Noah!” They were young, when you embraced us, You gave us your love and did what you must, I have given my life, for all that was needed, Serpent’s mount, where we stood, as the waters receded, “O’ Lord! Oh…”
0
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Seeking Ara
Talk to me, can you hear me O’ Lord? Send me something that I can not ignore, Staring at seas from the cold lonely shore, What of future? Can the angels be calling? I was young when you embraced me, When you opened my mind to the world’s mystery, I came home and started a family, Three bundles of joy near a bountiful sea, …and this life? Has the Age begun falling? Cattle left unattended and the goats without shepherd? Were sacrifices left for the goat, bull, crab or leopard? Battened down hatches as rains poured in the cube, The square in the circle that Saturn had drew, Eerie creaks, minor leaks, anxiety and the fear, Prophesied, built as planned, as the waters drew near, Talk to me, I am struggling O’ Lord, Is this it? The message that cannot be ignored, I was young when you embraced me, When you showed me the wonders of the land and the sea, I built you this house and filled it with Thee, Will we make it? The waves are appalling... One Man knew where his place was with god, inundation, extirpation, traded hammer for rod. A Great Bird of Paradise, was beckoning her call, swarms of bats and songbirds ahead of the squall. Open the porthole; we are saving them all, as the ship sets loose as the giants did fall. Drop the rope, do it now, so we can, plumb the depth, She cried out; “Where to live, who will rule and what shall be left?” “O’ Noah!” I’m now old, but will you embrace me? I now know you’ve been there since the dawning of history, We’re adrift, all is lost and their drowning in sea, Nothing’s left, but the gig-an-to-machy, The reigns of your horse are now pulling us free, “Release all the doves for I know now that he is with me!” “O’ Noah!” They were young, when you embraced us, You gave us your love and did what you must, I have given my life, for all that was needed, Serpent’s mount, where we stood, as the waters receded, “O’ Lord! Oh…”
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43
She writhes as though her soul were battened by bra-straps... The only sound that ever mattered was a breathy moan beside her burning earlobe while her eyelids squeezed tight enough to envelop her.
0
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 3:14 AM UTC
Chrysalides
There is no dressing this up, or hiding behind protective walls of feigned indifference; our ending is sad. It is not a transformative stop where hatches are battened down with the promise of spring burst, our leaves will stay away, for good; the midst of us going is final as bills for flowers on hearse. Not that we thought our days would last indefinitely, we didn't think at all of the days of not knowing what to do, without me and you.
0
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
Me And You
She wore red satin Dancing discreetly under stars Love's hatches were battened Riding in freshly painted cars She swore off men With big mouths and no ears As she longed for her story to be told To everyone, young and old She came from ***** streets Trash bins filled with beer cans But she was born to keep a beat Tapping, tapping her feet Until everyone had gotten up from their seats She works the stage Like its the only thing she's ever known Pacing and swaying It's where she knew she had truly grown A strong woman With a heart of gold Flowing hair of the angels And a demeanor truly bold Her daddy was a stern man He'd come home Still with drink in hand Looking to pick a bone But her face could calm Even the most violent of men Her occupation then was diffusing bombs When she got older And realized her life wasn't hers She grew colder Left her father And became the killer Everybody wants
0
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
Red Satin
We checked the forecast and readied ourselves, Battened down the hatches and stoked the fire, Begged the foundations to hold these walls. Ribbons of rain licked the roof. Iron clouds swallowed the sky. The Storm, like a bailiff, hammered the door. For hours He hammered and hammered again. Like an unwanted salesman selling us fear, He stayed at our door and hammered some more. There was no use fighting; He was stronger than us. So with gritted teeth and tear-soaked eyes, we prayed for morning to come. And it did.
0
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 11:17 AM UTC
The Passing Storm
This is a story from long ago in the third month of the year when on a clear and sunny day a mighty ship set sail, crew without a fear. They sailed along for days on tranquil quiet seas, clear skies, no clouds in sight just a hushed but working breeze. The sails were set to catch the wind though it wasn't much. The crew enjoyed the journey; the captain had never seen it such. The voyage was calm and glassy smooth; the ship sailed along with ease. They made great time toward their goal. Captain Caesar was quite pleased. On day fifteen things seemed to change; the ship rocked a bit and swayed. The "breeze" began to come in gusts; still crew and captain neither were afraid. They'd been in storms on land. They'd been in storms at sea. So they battened down the hatches and turned the ship to lee. The wind grew and swelled, got stronger. It moaned and caterwauled. "SOS! All hands on deck!" Captain Caesar called. Black clouds grew as the storm brewed, the sailors nervous now. Huge waves crashed and splashed like foamy giants pounding on the stern and on the bow. The ship was rocked about. The crew began to pray. It brought them to their knees. As they slipped and slid they wailed "Save us, save us, please!" The mainsail split, the lines came loose flapping wildly all around. The big ship creaked and groaned. It made a deathly sound. Now the ship was going down. "Deliver us from this fate. Don't let us sink, don't let us drown!" pleaded first and second mate. The ship continued to descend into the briny depths. No help appeared, no ship came near. These would be their final breaths. The ship was nearly gone. The sails had lost all starch. As the crows' nest sank from sight, Captain Caesar yelled, "Beware the Tides of March!"
0
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
Ballad of Captain Caesar
This is a story from long ago in the third month of the year when on a clear and sunny day a mighty ship set sail, crew without a fear. They sailed along for days on tranquil quiet seas, clear skies, no clouds in sight just a hushed but working breeze. The sails were set to catch the wind though it wasn't much. The crew enjoyed the journey; the captain had never seen it such. The voyage was calm and glassy smooth; the ship sailed along with ease. They made great time toward their goal. Captain Caesar was quite pleased. On day fifteen things seemed to change; the ship rocked a bit and swayed. The "breeze" began to come in gusts; still crew and captain neither were afraid. They'd been in storms on land. They'd been in storms at sea. So they battened down the hatches and turned the ship to lee. The wind grew and swelled, got stronger. It moaned and caterwauled. "SOS! All hands on deck!" Captain Caesar called. Black clouds grew as the storm brewed, the sailors nervous now. Huge waves crashed and splashed like foamy giants pounding on the stern and on the bow. The ship was rocked about. The crew began to pray. It brought them to their knees. As they slipped and slid they wailed "Save us, save us, please!" The mainsail split, the lines came loose flapping wildly all around. The big ship creaked and groaned. It made a deathly sound. Now the ship was going down. "Deliver us from this fate. Don't let us sink, don't let us drown!" pleaded first and second mate. The ship continued to descend into the briny depths. No help appeared, no ship came near. These would be their final breaths. The ship was nearly gone. The sails had lost all starch. As the crows' nest sank from sight, Captain Caesar yelled, "Beware the Tides of March!"
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56
Hattie Came slowly. She was sullen and strong as She crossed the carribbean shrouded in gray. The warning was short as we battened down tight. A blustery,piercing howling beast. Mighty trees knelt down. Souls washed away. Hattie shook Rattled Rolled. That Day.
0
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
Zircon
Teeth click with a snap, fangs bared in another threat. Fur up, hackles raised. She's growling at ghosts now, mountain song and cracking boulders. Hisses slice the silence up, sharped knife against paper thin. Those eyes are wide, ruby death staring into the abyss. Pupils so wide they hide the red, now they're sinking into slits. That red glows, that red speaks deep. The things that she's seen. The things that she's seen. Lips pulled back, ears battened down. Shoulders hunched, head lowered. Lethal crown ready as the flowers fall one by one. She is a monster. She is a god. And what are Gods if not monsters? Those black hooves strike the ground, one single drumbeat. Death dealers. Scars bristle under shining fur. Nightmare no longer monochrome. Those teeth snap again, sharp click. Angry sound. Bitter beast. Lost potential. Lost past. Lost soul. She is the remainder. The One That Endures. The One Who Stands Still. Remember who she once was. She is the devourer. She is the creator. The waning light and the shock of lighting. Remember what she is now. Outsider. Shell. Imperfect space. Mother. Wanderer. The Lost One. The Broken Thing. She breaks, she mends. Trys to get better then slips again. You can't escape the red. Can't leave the dead. She sees all their skeletons. Their blood is on her hands. In her heart. Their voices sound in her head. Screaming their damnation. Screaming their pleas. She is a nobody And you just made a mistake
0
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
She Is Eternal
This is a story from long ago in the third month of the year when on a clear and sunny day a mighty ship set sail, crew without a fear. They sailed along for days on tranquil quiet seas, clear skies, no clouds in sight just a hushed but working breeze. The sails were set to catch the wind though it wasn't much. The crew enjoyed the journey; the captain had never seen it such. The voyage was calm and glassy smooth; the ship sailed along with ease. They made great time toward their goal. Captain Caesar was quite pleased. On day fifteen things seemed to change; the ship rocked a bit and swayed. The "breeze" began to come in gusts; still crew and captain neither were afraid. They'd been in storms on land. They'd been in storms at sea. So they battened down the hatches and turned the ship to lee. The wind grew and swelled, got stronger. It moaned and caterwauled. "SOS! All hands on deck!" Captain Caesar called. Black clouds grew as the storm brewed, the sailors nervous now. Huge waves crashed and splashed like foamy giants pounding on the stern and on the bow. The ship was rocked about. The crew began to pray. It brought them to their knees. As they slipped and slid they wailed "Save us, save us, please!" The mainsail split, the lines came loose flapping wildly all around. The big ship creaked and groaned. It made a deathly sound. Now the ship was going down. "Deliver us from this fate. Don't let us sink, don't let us drown!" pleaded first and second mate. The ship continued to descend into the briny depths. No help appeared, no ship came near. These would be their final breaths. The ship was nearly gone. The sails had lost all starch. As the crows' nest sank from sight, Captain Caesar yelled, "Beware the Tides of March!"
0
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 7:33 PM UTC
Ballad of Captain Caesar - [repost for today's date]
This is a story from long ago in the third month of the year when on a clear and sunny day a mighty ship set sail, crew without a fear. They sailed along for days on tranquil quiet seas, clear skies, no clouds in sight just a hushed but working breeze. The sails were set to catch the wind though it wasn't much. The crew enjoyed the journey; the captain had never seen it such. The voyage was calm and glassy smooth; the ship sailed along with ease. They made great time toward their goal. Captain Caesar was quite pleased. On day fifteen things seemed to change; the ship rocked a bit and swayed. The "breeze" began to come in gusts; still crew and captain neither were afraid. They'd been in storms on land. They'd been in storms at sea. So they battened down the hatches and turned the ship to lee. The wind grew and swelled, got stronger. It moaned and caterwauled. "SOS! All hands on deck!" Captain Caesar called. Black clouds grew as the storm brewed, the sailors nervous now. Huge waves crashed and splashed like foamy giants pounding on the stern and on the bow. The ship was rocked about. The crew began to pray. It brought them to their knees. As they slipped and slid they wailed "Save us, save us, please!" The mainsail split, the lines came loose flapping wildly all around. The big ship creaked and groaned. It made a deathly sound. Now the ship was going down. "Deliver us from this fate. Don't let us sink, don't let us drown!" pleaded first and second mate. The ship continued to descend into the briny depths. No help appeared, no ship came near. These would be their final breaths. The ship was nearly gone. The sails had lost all starch. As the crows' nest sank from sight, Captain Caesar yelled, "Beware the Tides of March!"
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The louvers of the windows to my heart are shut to the storm of love.
0
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:48 AM UTC
Battened down
Sometimes I think if I'll ever have that conversation with you. I mean, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever even have another conversation with you. But if I do, I hope it'll be one where you ask the question you shouldn't. "Do you still love me?" I replay this scenario over and over and over, going through what I could say. Whether you'd blush, whether you'd cry. Whether it'll all be okay. And maybe my words will be like kindling to the fire we once had, a catalyst to an experiment of old. But it's said the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again, expecting different results. I think I've gone past insanity, I've closed up, I've battened down the hatches and weathered the storms of my psyche. But I'm not sure if I prefer the emptiness of these open seas, and I think feeling something, is better than feeling nothing. I am a broken tape of our favourite film, filled with too many memories to just throw away. Except now, I can only loop the **** part. Sometimes I think if I'll ever have that conversation with you. I mean, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever even have another conversation with you. But if I do, it'll be one where you don't ask the question you should. "Do you still love me?"
0
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 5:18 PM UTC
Loop
The man had a terrible temper, Would rage at the skies above, Would screech and howl, like a midnight owl, He’d been unlucky in love. He’d stomp about in the village square, Go out, and look for a fight, The villagers always avoided him When he’d roam around at night. Then he’d come and knock at my own front door Demanding to talk to Jill, I’d hear her say from the passageway, ‘I don’t want to talk to Bill! I’d had enough when he beat me up And my heart would never heal, Just tell him I’m sticking with you, my love, I know that your love is real!’ He’d punch the door, then he’d stand and roar So I’d slam the door in his face, He kicked a panel across the floor And I said I’d call the police! I heard him muttering as he left, ‘Come out, I’ll give you a fight, Tell Jill she’s dead if she’s in your bed, I’ll call in the dead of night!’ I took the hammer and nails outside And battened the shutters down, Then strung an electrical tripwire that Would pulverise the clown, ‘The man’s as mad as a meat axe, Jill, Bi-Polar, that’s for sure,’ ‘More of a schizophrenic, Jim, ‘Be sure to bar the door.’ We’d sit in a petrified silence in The cottage, every night, Listening for the slightest sound If something wasn’t right, The roof would creak as the timber cooled And the wind soughed through the eaves, We even strained by the window panes At the patter of Autumn leaves. ‘How long are we going to put up with this,’ I said to Jill, one morn, ‘He’s tempting fate by the garden gate, He’s been there since the dawn.’ ‘I’m going to have to confront him,’ said The darling of my life, I hadn’t proposed to her just then But I hoped she’d be my wife. She walked on out to the garden gate And I heard him raise his voice, I couldn’t quite make his words out, but He was giving her a choice. Then Jill I heard in a voice that stirred From the depths of a gravel pit, And he went white with a look of fright And he left, and that was it! ‘What did you say to the maniac That he turned and went away?’ She smiled, and cuddled on into me, ‘I think I made his day. I said that I’d go back home with him But I’d poison his meat and drinks, Or slit his throat when asleep one night…’ He hasn’t been back here since! David Lewis Paget
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 4:50 AM UTC
The Threat of the Weaker ***
The man had a terrible temper, Would rage at the skies above, Would screech and howl, like a midnight owl, He’d been unlucky in love. He’d stomp about in the village square, Go out, and look for a fight, The villagers always avoided him When he’d roam around at night. Then he’d come and knock at my own front door Demanding to talk to Jill, I’d hear her say from the passageway, ‘I don’t want to talk to Bill! I’d had enough when he beat me up And my heart would never heal, Just tell him I’m sticking with you, my love, I know that your love is real!’ He’d punch the door, then he’d stand and roar So I’d slam the door in his face, He kicked a panel across the floor And I said I’d call the police! I heard him muttering as he left, ‘Come out, I’ll give you a fight, Tell Jill she’s dead if she’s in your bed, I’ll call in the dead of night!’ I took the hammer and nails outside And battened the shutters down, Then strung an electrical tripwire that Would pulverise the clown, ‘The man’s as mad as a meat axe, Jill, Bi-Polar, that’s for sure,’ ‘More of a schizophrenic, Jim, ‘Be sure to bar the door.’ We’d sit in a petrified silence in The cottage, every night, Listening for the slightest sound If something wasn’t right, The roof would creak as the timber cooled And the wind soughed through the eaves, We even strained by the window panes At the patter of Autumn leaves. ‘How long are we going to put up with this,’ I said to Jill, one morn, ‘He’s tempting fate by the garden gate, He’s been there since the dawn.’ ‘I’m going to have to confront him,’ said The darling of my life, I hadn’t proposed to her just then But I hoped she’d be my wife. She walked on out to the garden gate And I heard him raise his voice, I couldn’t quite make his words out, but He was giving her a choice. Then Jill I heard in a voice that stirred From the depths of a gravel pit, And he went white with a look of fright And he left, and that was it! ‘What did you say to the maniac That he turned and went away?’ She smiled, and cuddled on into me, ‘I think I made his day. I said that I’d go back home with him But I’d poison his meat and drinks, Or slit his throat when asleep one night…’ He hasn’t been back here since! David Lewis Paget
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By now I know no other path could lead Me to be the person that you’ve become. Your presence in itself, means I succeed- -ed in my life, trials to overcome. When jackals reared their heads, you stayed your course. When sunshine failed to shine, you found a light. And in the times when clouded by remorse, You battened down, enduring through the night. As for me, I know not what Life will bring. An undecided life for me to steer. To learn why songbirds ever choose to sing, I’ll follow as thou hast and never fear. I know that as I choose to follow Him, We will be there, in vict’ry over sin.
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:42 AM UTC
Sonnet unto Me