"capitan" poems
The fire knows nothing but burning,
we know breathing that way, naturally done for
our own sake.
We old still know sake and grant mean true immaterial things.
Sake and granted we take to mean
my good, your good, good sake grant me take me con
mentis sans carne
by golly.
Dada-esque wire spoke far writing ease
e everything e-literate e-mail
---
the boinin' in d'boozum, dat be da ting, da ting con sum in all ya'lifes.
be knowin' dat, be knowin' a-dam lie.
Jah know y'know, don' be sayin' no y'don'
Be happy. Jah know haps be hap'nin' allatime. *** sum, take wha's granted,
take all fo' free.
You got nothin' t'boin, nothin' to oin, be a bird brain seein' stars fo'
no. birds be sleepin' when stars be seen so birds consider nothin', sidereally.
Hmmm. Quit?
Walk away, say, I got nought to say I ought t' say.
No way.
Temporary tempt-test-u-us sitchee-ations,
suffer it so. It don' hurt t'say no f'now so
How'd that that shiny critter know my game? How'd it know,
I think
thisaway and it is gone, forever. (which has begun, btw)
-----
The biosphere is regaining consciousness, Capitan.
Shall we continue burning?
What's the bullocks count?
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
.
***pirates on the sea
Capitan Morgan, life, love, loot
a bottle of ***
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
my friend al
calls me every night
midnight to be exact
with invites to the maryland club,
you know the one, near hudsons bay
where johnny walkers always playing that old drum?
come he says
& we can dance with martini & rossi
baila baila on table tops
while jose cuervo
plays his cuban guitar.
aye yae yae mami,
venga, venga!
come
let me show you the comforts
of southern hospitality
it will only cost you one silver dollar
i try to say no
absolutely not
cause the last time i danced with al
i found myself lying in the arms of ron bacardi
at the old kentuky tavern down by the green river
ooh, he was soo smooth talking
standing there dressed in his red label shoes
& when he told me i felt like black velvet,
handed me four roses
& tickled me with three feathers
i found myself with my
backside to the ground
& me looking up at nothin but skyy
& by the time i knew what was going on
we had done it 151 times
before jack daniels caught us
behind mr. boston's house
& when he swore
he’d tell my old grand dad
i was so scared,
i stole the white horse
that belonged to capitan morgan
just to get away.
lord knows to this day
if he knew
he’d slap me silly, take me to church
& swear the christian brothers
could save my soul.
no, i wanna say
absolutely not
but its too late
i’m already at the canadian club
where my soul is being ******
by the fat *******
filling my glass
with crushed grapes.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
I am Narcissistic.
Lethargic.
Melancholic,
and, God forbid,
Cynical.
Wordy and Witty.
Sharp when I'm mad.
I cut to the bone
and make loved ones sad.
I dance with the Capitan
and assorted other crutches.
I swear to Myself
I'm not caught in their clutches.
I don't like decisions
or making a stand.
Sometimes accused of
My head in the sand.
I'm also overly Optimistic :)
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
Don't let me go
O Capitan of the starship Viscera.
You have yet to see me
devolve into a pink salamander!
You have yet to see me
fall to my knees and beg for faith.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
the bow turns a cheek as the stern takes a seat,
his mind slips away as his heart begins to sink.
he is the Capitan of a sinking ship.
all alone in the dark sea,
crew has fled, hope is dead.
he is the Capitan of a sinking ship.
his ship turns a ruptured belly, growling and groaning,
he is not flinched from his lonely cabin.
he is the Capitan of a sinking ship.
the cold rain is warm to his touch,
the frothy brine envelopes his face,
he is the Capitan of a sinking ship.
he last thinks of the storm he couldn't miss.
floating down, to meet his love, in the vague abyss.
he was the Capitan of a sinking ship.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Nemesis Tales(The Slaver)
------------------------
**Far to the East, a prowling Beast,
The Prow of the Nemesis Seeks a Feast,
a Tautened crew and a Hardened Master,
avert your eyes Shipmate-he's a Tartar!,
like summonin' a Genie,here he Strides,
The Nemesis Sails and the Harbinger Rides,
above the deeps of the ocean gloom,
where Leviathan sleeps,a Predator looms,
we cut the Line four watches past,
much merriment fore and aft of the mast!,
no Grating rigged, no rating flogged,
"aye not even you you drunken dog!"
avast now mate- just shut your gob,
from the Dragon's Cockpit issues Smog(pun:)
we've seen such Fog before recall?,
Mon Capitan, Le Diabole!**
*Prepare for squalls messmates of mine,
ill work ahead this side of the Line,
a foul Miasma disturbs me deep,
I toss and turn and spurn my sleep,
A thousand souls cried out to mine,
no fat Merchant, nor Ship of the Line,
could cast such ripples across the surf,
nay, a thousand times this curse is worse,
we beat to quarters no man waver!,
Two points off the Larboard bow- lies The Slaver!,
from every throat there came a Growl,
from those enslaved before a Howl!,
no Mercy Sir? cries one such Martyr,
Nor asked Nor given Shipmate said the Master,
we sink Merchants and live life hard,
and if we're caught we're strung from the Yard,
yet there ahead with the seal of a King,
lies a monster worse,let the chase begin!(Echo)*
**She's laden deep, and stinks of Death,
I'll know no sleep til she's sunk in the depths,
All sail Aloft, then run out the guns,
we assault from the East and the rays of the Sun
will blind their eyes until broadsides RIP!
the Lateen Sails from the mast of the ship,
then load with Grape, sweep the deck then board,
and free those souls chained down in the hold,
shackled down from head to toe,
in their filth rocked to and fro
in the Bilge with the avid rats to fight,
some die of plague,of fear of fright,
some just give in and slide to the night,
some founder through and become Wights(important for the next chapter!)
but not this time, its Free or Dead,
now we've work to do, and enough been said
are you with me Crew "AYE ONE AND ALL"
as the Nemesis sails let the Slaver Fall!**
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
They were a band blues out of control
they always played together
did Rough Bone Johnson
and the succulent feathers
They rocked a joint to it's knees
girls would shower them
with knickers and keys
and of course addresses
Man, that cat Rough Bone Johnson
and the succulent feathers
they made rock and roll
so dig a grave and roll over
They could of been famous one day
but they are called
come Capitan join us
for you and sisters are called
Rough Bone Johnson
he I knew was a saint
but he will say hell no
hell no I an't
Hush, time to go
Mister Johnson
for you are recalled
recalled back to war
No more singing now
or maybe evermore
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
One final journey to the sea,
The last wish of a grizzled old warrior.
From the sands and dances
Of the American West,
To the blood and bullets
Of the Western Front,
Roads traveled by
A lone Apache.
Somewhere along the way,
He became my grandfather,
Replacing that which I lost
To drink and bottomless spite.
Better than his predecessor, naturally
Walking the path of a grandparent,
With stories and lessons for me,
His capitan.
Now, I walk with him
Along life’s shore,
And as that grand, beautiful ocean
Breaks upon the rocks,
I feel his stories and lessons
Rising on the salty breeze.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC
Matchsticks used and burned to black
Stand amid their brethren tall
Through Mount and Vale
Their limbs compete
To reach into Heaven's seat
Merced flows and bubbles past
Bird and beast both heed the call
From Bridal Veil
Is river born
To reach for the Distant Shore
Stare in awe! El Capitan,
Mighty Chief, above them all
The peak unveils
Yosemite
In its natural majesty
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
***The Jamaica Jewel's sails are full with skull & bones on high mast,
canons thunder, I pillage & plunder with a trim keel my ship is fast.
My boots and vest are leather black with sword & buckles of gold,
when sunlight reflects, landlubber's quake & their blood runs cold.
I always dress in black except from my hat a plume of vermillion,
A pirate's chest full of treasure and pieces of eight by the million.
Just the sound of my name sends shivers to timbers of all,
I am Capitan Blood Head, on mermaid lips and ports-o-call.
On sand & beach Capitan Blood Head wanted alive or dead,
where rivers become waterfalls posters for bounty is what's read.
So the legend lives on, from Key Largo, San Juan & St. Kitts Cay,
from Trinidad and Tobago to Saint John and Montego Bay.
Don't you dare cross Capitan Blood Head and his Scallywags,
and don't even think about The Capitan's favorite Sea Hags,
or walk the plank to Davy Jones' locker you sank. AGRRR!!!***
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC
I’ve tried playin’ things my way,
Until things came to my utter dismay.
I never thought I’d let you down,
Here, I’ll give you back your crown.
What I miss the most are the late night conversations
You’ll always be my ship, will I be your capitan?
I never wanted this fuss
Just wanted my conceptual “us”.
Watchin’ you walk out my door,
I’ve never wanted anything more.
Can I just wake up from this dream,
It’s like drowning in a tear stream.
Though, your eyes were my l o t u s,
Will there be a conceptual “us”?
If I send you red roses, a dime a dozen,
Will you think they’re from someone different?
I thought I poured my heart out to you,
Should I come back? Will things be new?
Do you miss my arms wrapped around you tight?
Remember when we drank Champaign alone at night?
I see you coming again,
I’ve been thinking to much,
Since I’ve been laying in bed.
You know the reason why.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
« Alerte ! alerte ! voici les pirates d'Ochali qui traversent le détroit. »
Le Captif d'Ochali.
Nous emmenions en esclavage
Cent chrétiens, pêcheurs de corail ;
Nous recrutions pour le sérail
Dans tous les moûtiers du rivage.
En mer, les hardis écumeurs !
Nous allions de Fez à Catane...
Dans la galère capitane
Nous étions quatre-vingts rameurs.
On signale un couvent à terre.
Nous jetons l'ancre près du bord.
À nos yeux s'offre tout d'abord
Une fille du monastère.
Près des flots, sourde à leurs rumeurs,
Elle dormait sous un platane...
Dans la galère capitane
Nous étions quatre-vingts rameurs.
- La belle fille, il faut vous taire,
Il faut nous suivre. Il fait bon vent.
Ce n'est que changer de couvent,
Le harem vaut le monastère.
Sa hautesse aime les primeurs,
Nous vous ferons mahométane...
Dans la galère capitane
Nous étions quatre-vingts rameurs.
Elle veut fuir vers sa chapelle.
- Osez-vous bien fils de Satan ?
- Nous osons, dit le capitan.
Elle pleure, supplie, appelle.
Malgré sa plainte et ses clameurs,
On l'emporta dans la tartane...
Dans la galère capitane
Nous étions quatre-vingts rameurs.
Plus belle encor dans sa tristesse,
Ses yeux étaient deux talismans,
Elle valait mille tomans ;
On la vendit à sa hautesse.
Elle eut beau dire : Je me meurs !
De nonne elle devint sultane...
Dans la galère capitane
Nous étions quatre-vingts rameurs
Le 12 mars 1828.
404
Great men have died for
Their country. Today, 'great men'
Negotiate deals.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 8:02 AM UTC