"catamaran" poems
*Streaming sunlight, what an intense, insistent lover!
empty catamaran dances in it's sultry embrace,
on the foam bed of gently rocking sea waves.
The dark shadow of this union finds it's kind of fun
swimming deeper, frightening fish roaming in pairs.*
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
She never made it
To Morocco
Rode ’cross the desert
With her Bedouin lover
Shopped for bargains
In the Souks of Rabat
Sipped mint tea
From a frosted glass.
She never went sailing
In a catamaran
And on a moonlit beach
Made love in the sand
Or drank espresso
In a café in Lima
Or danced the flamenco
In Puerto Rico.
She married a man
Cause no one else offered
Had three kids
And moved to the suburbs
Wrapped up her dreams
In brown butcher paper
Tied them with twine
And shelved them for later .
She never made it
To Morocco
Her life was four walls
Plastered in stucco
And she sighed as she thought
Of the things that she lost
The dreams that she wrapped
And shelved in the past.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 9:32 PM UTC
This ship docked in my lonely harbour
It was the prettiest catamaran I'd ever seen
Delighted the captain shouted it's name
"The EDB" his hazel eyes beamed
He was filled with beauty inside and out
And with his withdrawal came pain, no doubt
After him came the figure that was the real mystery
With charm and charisma he came to me
"Hey my name is Jay, okay if I docked at your bay"
Flashing an award winning smile
I couldn't resist
"Ofcourse! ofcourse!" I instantly hissed
However it was the storm that he brought along I wish I had missed
I couldn't bare another heartbreak
No more vessels I'd tell the rest to skate
But then M/V Drew came through and blew me away
With a saddened heart I knew I could not allow him to stay
My dock just suffered two terrible shocks
No more, no more I want off these rocks
Today was it my day to be free
To embrace the ocean, find a ship that loves me
Beyond the horizon floated my chance at more
It was finally my time to leave Heartbreak Shore
- (jrew)
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
On golden shores on white sands,
Stands a blue catamaran.
With toil, love, skillfully made.
Though paint chips off, colors fade.
It's built from logs of hardy wood,
A fisherman... his livelihood.
He sails each day, with hopes new,
His life, his love on a rippling blue.
On calm waters when sun shine beams,
When the shimmering bay glistening gleams,
When waves dance, in tandem sway
Where sun rays wink, hide and play.
On vengeful days when waters mock,
When menacing gales toss and rock,
When dark clouds engulf the bay,
When the world anchored safely stays.
But the sun kissed fisherman,
Sails each day his catamaran..
Never tethered on safe shores he,
For thats not where he's meant to be.
As he sails the coastal bay,
I see him fade.. far away
Singing songs, in the distance he,
His love, his life, his hope..the sea.
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
took sight of the seafaring kind
in a queue, in a cafe, that wound around
tables and carried on the line out the door.
your small vessel body will travel
with clothes and stitches and sails of material,
mapping points in the tide that'll
slide away as you move on
unafraid.
your jumper hangs off your left side
shoulder, or is that your port
side shoulder that dips lower in the air
than you starboard blade?
i'm new to this, please stay and listen
Catamaran girl with a smile as white as wave tip breaks,
what a sight you are on this flat sea lake
of-a-queue in the height of summer,
the air-con-is-broken-
we could leave now and do a runner
find a boat and paddle out,
fix the rudder and raise the mast,
have summer on an island
and not look back.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
Blue sky, green sea,
hands of wind tickling
the coconut trees,
in the catamaran,
afloat the rolling waves,
a love smitten pair,
he and she, loosing themselves
in each other's eyes.
White spray from high waves,
rain on them, they gleam.
afternoon sun, fizzes down,
air is filled with laughter and joy,
pure magic of love,
the kind one experiences
when nature extends its hands,
to love for a dance of exuberance.
A shoal of colorful fish, swimming too close,
jump up to amuse them,
bringing much cheer.
Swinging on the waves
the sea keeps company to their craft.
**That day flew away and joined the repository of memories.
He and she scampered through the arches
waves after high waves erected,
took voyages far, through troubled waters.
But never, could they forget,
the laughter and joy that day represented,
when they stood together,
or went on to their separate ways.**
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 9:16 AM UTC
Sand witches, solar sisters, they are the
west coast in this part of the cosmos,
tied to the hip with American thighs
and Brazilian otherwise, donning
catamaran bottoms the color of
red liquorice and snuggly
they sit at their
international
dateline
as if by
magic
Apr 11, 2024
Apr 11, 2024 at 11:58 AM UTC
Another shore, another age
I walked those sands, searching...
Some shells, some foliage,
I ran at the waves rushing.
Beyond the third white wave,
Curled against the fourth...
The brittle crab shell swayed,
Bobbled, speeding forth...
My heel firm and grounded
The waves raised with a crisp honk..
The catamaran, I spotted,
On the wall, seated a white conch...
Staring at the conch, I dreamed,
My fingers traced the tiny lines...
The lines circled edging for release,
I placed it near my ear, it whined...
The song of another shore, another age
I hear you now, calling me
I hear clearly, my voice interlaced
I stand here, it's you I feel...
Looked up at the sky,
Looked at the sand,
Looked side ways,
Looked beyond...
Without a clue, where to move,
I followed your voice from inside,
Another year, another month, or forever,
But, one day we will meet, soon enough
This day we will recite those lines,
For another shore, another age,
Your words will still beckon,
I will follow your words, till there is no return.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 8:24 AM UTC
I sailed on a catamaran, and let the wind guide it
I didn’t push against the current but let destiny choose it
I let it choose its people, I let it choose its place
I let it choose its timing, I let it choose its race
First thing I know, we jump off the boat
We swim under sun set and let our bodies float
We put clay on our faces, now looking all white
We laugh about it and talk for a while
The sun is down, so we start heading back
All the sudden, thousands of stars are out
We jump off again, time goes in slow-mo
Water to the hips, I was given a mango
A mango so tender and sweet
It almost swept me off my feet
While sharing laughter and lifelong conversations
These travellers became my constellations
I sailed on a catamaran, and let the wind guide it
It left me with amazing friends and joy wrapped around it
This excruciating happiness was like an oracle
And little did I know, it was my mango miracle
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 10:52 AM UTC
Abandoned at a sandy beach,
Bleeding sunlight through the countless cracks,
I , a lone catamaran,
Stared at the infinite ocean.
The sun is coming down.
The seagulls are flying to eternity.
The lighthouse far away has started blinking
And the winds are returning home.
Gone are the days of stormy adventures.
So, are the laughters on the day of good catch.
I miss the uncertainties of tempest,
And the ballads of ******
A sunset is the most poignant moment in the life.
All your memories out there to enchant you,
Life is all frolicking around you,
And you stare soulless, into a receding red ball.
I yearn to break free of this inaction
Push away the stack of stones holding me back.
And glide down the wet slippery sands
Out into the frothing foam of life.
Let me float anchorless where the ocean takes me.
Let the storm toss me up in the air
Let the waves batter my hull
Let me capsize in the blue salt water.
And then.... there would be peace.
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 4:28 AM UTC
Tonight is something different.
Not the cinemas, not the bars, not the restaurants.
Tonight we chose to lie on the front deck of my dad’s catamaran,
In total silence.
Just gazing at the sky above.
Your head rested on my chest,
My fingers twirling and digging in your hair
As if there was something I was searching for.
Above us, the silver moon stands out in brilliant splendor,
And perfect contrast with the deep, dark, night sky.
I twist my head slightly
And look over to the shore
Where I spot tiny silhouettes of little children playing on the beach,
Kicking a ball and running and dancing about full of energy.
Their distant playful shouts and screams are carried across to us
By a pleasant gust of wind that brushes past,
Whoosh!
And the boat dances in the waves.
A slow, rocking motion.
As we lay
In silence.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 5:59 AM UTC
Pile clouds push the north ridge
liquid blue lines at dead man’s point
cane garden pool for industrious folk
verdant green tuck from the upper deck
Waterfalls heavy and head winds calm
sea deep clear at the pit cove
pusser *** pints (for the pain ****
eateries pop and glow in port
Oleander clips and elephant ears
scuppernong grape from the jester
tannia stock on dipping day
calypso calls from an improvised spot
Hammocks hung at coral beach
funjie band in bamboshay time
ficus, gallows and *** runners
flying fish on the catamaran row
Metallic crab and swordfish
soggy holes for the sage and musk
sinkers, skiffs and rollers
white squalls gust on the north bay
Skeleton art at charlie t's
powder white and breezy
shells and driftwood for the artisan heart
geckos short of the cabana
Butterflies float on violet caps
fingers cross the hummingbird bath
anglers steady under canopy layer
lighthouse sails are bending
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
Five bars boxed conceal my fate,
opulent stiff trees sit outside an iron grate.
I can't leave this prison for I'm the secret's committee--
my captors want the source of my surreptitious serendipity.
In the surreal landscape stood a man
laying in the vertical catamaran;
he's not a man queer and unknown,
but a queer man with the same face as my own.
I stare as I stare, and a smile breaks
like a mirrored leaf fallen, ripples a still lake.
The forest becomes him, for blurred vision ensues.
Teared freedom he uses, for to blink I refuse
My oppressors' gaze won't break away.
Believing I pine to nap under the trees' shade
Yet I'm as liberated as I am confined,
so my life alone I will never mind
I've done, will do, and am doing everything I want,
so when I close my eyes the wind is my confidant.
Speaking to me I follow its every elision--
the eurythmic breeze unleashes my inhibitions.
Leading me to the dark corner of my cell
with beauty all around me I stay in this hell
As night falls the bars rise in turn,
for the clear, star-streaked sky I yearn.
On queue the creek of a door latch is heard
I must choose but my decision won't be deterred:
the door leads to my guardians' labyrinthine maze,
the window-- a drop to the darkness, who preys.
So what do I do? Flip a coin with no sides.
With the decision face up in the moon's candlelight.
Frozen by fear of the known and untold.
Convinced I'm not ready, my merits must mold.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
You are gathered with your friends
to play a board game
called "What Next"
Four people total, Including you.
First, the person with brown hair
and blue eyes to your right,
filled with HATrEd,
withdraws a card and
deciphers its MYstery:
"You are lost
at sea on a wooden
catamaran. There are others
with you. The phone that shows
where to turn is broken.
How will you unMASK
the land?"
The pitiful one across
from you whispers
the answer: "Unlock
the old, rusted telescope."
It is the pitiful
one's turn, who reads
with self-reproof, "You are on
an island. The boy child
with a broken glass face,
exposing the fire
in HIS head, looks
at you accusingly.
How do you extinguish
the volcano?"
Raising a hand in ANGER
is the disdainful person
with brown hair, who yells,
"Punish the boy child!
His SCARS will never heal!"
The loving soul in red
smiles and says: "Wrong,
you silly creature.
You solve the MYthical puzzle
by joining the flesh
on the boy child's FACE."
It is now THE loving
one's turn to select
a card (the ticket?), done
with a GENTLE flick of the
delicate wrist. One singing
VOICE chimed, "Spoiled farmer
makes you confine the
bamboozled man that names
your strengths. He
SUGGESTS
THAT
the befuddled
has already been put away.
How can you possibly
solve the Conundrum?"
You must answer. Relax!
I order you! Find the solution!
The patriarch has ordered it!
Or else you MUST walk through
a curtain of falling bullets
showering down.
It is the only ESCAPE
back to the beginning.
Kerry Herrmann
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
A catamaran whooshes past
Epilogued by the propeller with which it steers
Marking each and every ripple
Without hesitation, without fear
I'll take the next wave
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
early clang
for sache of peaks
on goats' catamaran
Feb 19, 2021
Feb 19, 2021 at 2:36 PM UTC
You stealthily tip toe
Into my consciousness
And throw your smile at me
Gently, gently, gently
Smear my face with its fragrance
And all the lies
Of the world
Get demolished
Like a sand-castle
And we in a catamaran
Of you and I
Sail towards eternity
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
.
It comes at night, the repetitive pulse through the city.
Waves after a catamaran moves
below the seemingly placid surface.
A large engine has been started.
The spark of life is weakening. The light bulbs flickers.
Everything seams just a little different.
The feeling of a great uncertainty crossing our block.
The winter has shed its sails. Snow and a magical silence
is rocking out there, waiting.
.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
Walking slowly on what feels like quick sand,
cherry blossoms of a calming flair,
scented pollen rushing through the air,
yacht of memories over the horizon,
rock ‘n’ roll tides rushing without compromisin’.
I wait for the yacht to return.
Waiting on a slippery rock,
my own waiting game as my only elixir,
knew he would bring the yacht to the dock,
can’t wait to tell him enough of your trick, sir.
I weathered many a storm,
he took what blossomed as granted,
no longer do I need to be that warm,
ready to bid adieu and give him his farewell that he so wanted.
Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC
In village
I was swimming
a small catamaran
pushed me a bit
would have drowned
about to hell…
the catamaran was empty
in a splash
my anger disappeared
what happen??
understood
an anger need a
canvas to paint
no canvas
no anger..
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 3:08 AM UTC