Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Purcy Flaherty Oct 2018
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, as land lubbers row hard, pulling for freedom.

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 3 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, lubbers row, it's time to leave this god forsaken place.
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 •••- - - •••
Bless all those souls lost at sea!
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2017
( Sonnet )*

I once caught you naked by the sea,
No one noticed, such noble shyness,
Invited to worlds, aloof as sun breeze,
Of purple sands, heathered highness.

In novae of your eyes was shipwreck,
Forlorn beacon chiding the weary lost
Of new worlds lumbered on the decks,
Seabirds caroled up wing, heavens' loft.

Skin, fleshy of netted eel, salt and foam,
Was hide for a brigand, lubbers sessions,
Sheered by sheen, blinding sky of gloam,
Stars runged on their draped processions.

My seal, now fate, cloak within jubilance;
Coral sea wave, slips under moon dance.
In Celtic myth, if a man steals a female selkie's skin she is in his power and is forced to become his wife.  Female selkies are said to make excellent wives, but because their true home is the sea, they will often be seen gazing longingly at the ocean.  Sometimes, a selkie maiden is taken as a wife by a human man and she has several children by him.

Selkies (also spelled silkies, selchies; Irish/Scottish Gaelic: selchidh, Scots: selkie fowk) are mythological creatures found in Scottish, Irish, and Faroese folklore.  Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend is apparently most common in Orkney and Shetland and is very similar to those of swan maidens.
.
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2015
( Sonnet )*

I once caught you naked by the sea,
No one noticed, such noble shyness,
Invited to worlds, aloof as sun breeze,
Of purple sands, heathered highness.

In novae of your eyes was shipwreck,
Forlorn beacon chiding the weary lost
Of new worlds lumbered on the decks,
Seabirds caroled up wing, heavens' loft.

Skin, fleshy of netted eel, salt and foam,
Was hide for a brigand, lubbers sessions,
Sheered by sheen, blinding sky of gloam,
Stars runged on their draped processions.

My seal, now fate, cloak within jubilance;
Coral sea wave, slips under moon dance.
In Celtic myth, if a man steals a female selkie's skin she is in his power and is forced to become his wife.  Female selkies are said to make excellent wives, but because their true home is the sea, they will often be seen gazing longingly at the ocean.  Sometimes, a selkie maiden is taken as a wife by a human man and she has several children by him.

Selkies (also spelled silkies, selchies; Irish/Scottish Gaelic: selchidh, Scots: selkie fowk) are mythological creatures found in Scottish, Irish, and Faroese folklore.  Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend is apparently most common in Orkney and Shetland and is very similar to those of swan maidens.
Lil Lalo Sep 2018
Oh the ocean waves may roll,
and the stormy winds may blow,
while we poor sailors go skipping aloft
And the land lubbers lay down below, below, below,
and the land lubbers lay down below.
Poetic T Apr 2016
He languished in the stocks but never was hunger
A problem. For he caught apples between his yappers,
Playing catch with each bite, it flew through the air
And once again a pinching of it till a stalk was left.
The crowd stood around in awe of his culinary
Performance, then they threw once again.

Released his time of languishing ended and returning
To his ship, "never slap the mayors wife's ****, he
Thought but who was he kidding he would do it
Again but next time not in front of him. She was where
He had left her, pride on his bearded features.
Daddies home, as his hands caressed her wooden features.

He went to his abode, lingering views of a picture
Of the oceans essence of high pitched waves. He pressed
Upon a singular spot and a secret revealed itself on his views.
A small casket, others would have seen it as a trinket box
Of lessened value. My precious thing of beauty that I hold,
I'll let you free when from port we discard the solid land.

The crew were pleased as the waves graced the ships bow
and the captain discarded his weavings of land lubbers
threads that clung to tight. Raise our flag my mates of
what is our nature true. Captain Black Heart Bart,
"Yes I know its a mouthful, but its my pirate #tag,
The chest came forth and with an even hand opened up.

The wisps clung to the captain as if a loving embrace,
my love, soul of the ship, lend us your breath to move
to our destination where the tides are silent and the
wind is death, motionless and soundless where ships
linger in a graveyard of wood and bones of the lost.
With a gesture the mists encircle the sails migrating forward.

Her breath kept motion where there would have been neither,
they stared at the wrecks of those lost in time. Were those
of white washed echoes, moving dead eyes following or
was it but the motionless reflection of the static seas grasp.
"Sir we see the place that her breath has taken us too,
"Thank you my love, you can now slumber, rest your breathe,

Upon the shores or blackened sand, they were called the
Remnant Tears, old lore said it was the tears of a lonely
god as he watched the sunset of his life, and these are all
that is left the residue of a time long past. They were sharp
as well, like jagged torn metal. We wore hadderned leather in
layers to save the blood from tearing from us as his did long ago.

We were home a shelter from those that would hunt us upon
ocean waves never did we take souls we just took material
things of value to sell, we melted precious metals, released
gems of equal sizes from their clasps, and in bowls they gleamed
of the suns rays ravishing the walls with a kaleidoscope of
colours that's changed with even shards of light gleaming through.


He sat on the crows nest of a ship, of older design than known,
made from not wood or metal another of majestic times long
faded into obscurity glance. Gathering thoughts on the mirrored
façade that never moved just like a reflection of above, one could
Be sent crazy in thought of which was land or sea, below or above.
He liked this illusion on his senses that was art to his perception.

Breezes of sea air rustled his beard and it was relaxing him
to slumber. but only when the waves graced him descending
into its eternal grasp would he rest these sea legged bones.
But now was the time to inspire the charmers below, with
a voice he greeted ears below. "Ya lazy dogs, move them bones,
And like mice they scurried to there hidey holes.

Nodding his head he discarded gravity as he plummeted to the
waiting deck below. Right or was that left no he was facing the
wrong way, she was playing tricks with her breath.  He burst in
to laughter and they nervously laughed with him, come on
my woman and men of the sea lets do some gentle persuading
that other relinquish there cluttered possessions to our ship.

With heart felt cheers they, sang their song to the stale winds,

"We're not pirates we be releasers of others greed,
"Possessions are who ever holds them be in cargo hold free,
"We'll never hurt you, we'll just gently nudge till you agree,

"Pirates that's a name we be called who we be,
"We be good looking, folks don't listen to history,
"We walked many a walk way plank to you and me,
"Yes I said we not above but that between you and me,

"Get done with the cutlass, respect the captains beard,
"We sail the high seas cos low ones make me sick,
"Trend setters of the ocean that's what we be,
"My flag is named skully, black & white he be,

"Pirates that's a name we be called who we be,
"We be good looking, folks don't listen to history,
"We walked many a walk way plank to you and me,
"Yes I said we not above but that between you and me,

Repeat and rinse sing what you feel, that's when I call upon
my beauty, "Awaken from slumber, breath to the wind,
And in to the great blue we sail, never a life have we took
never shall there be. For we are the new version of the old
but we will always win with her breath in front of me.

See you soon if to plunder I do mean, sail happy if your
not of greed and wealth or we will set our sights on thee.
The waves splash upon our bow, spray invigorate the souls
of all upon our beauty "The Wind Of The Sea, now ill
wish you good travels its time for us to earn our keep and
to visit those who need to lightened to heavy on the sea.
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2015
( Sonnet )*

I once caught you naked by the sea,
No one noticed, such noble shyness,
Invited to worlds, aloof as sun breeze,
Of purple sands, heathered highness.

In novae of your eyes was shipwreck,
Forlorn beacon chiding the weary lost
Of new worlds lumbered on the decks,
Seabirds caroled up wing, heavens' loft.

Skin, fleshy of netted eel, salt and foam,
Was hide for a brigand, lubbers sessions,
Sheered by sheen, blinding sky of gloam,
Stars runged on their draped processions.

My seal, now fate, cloak within jubilance;
Coral sea wave, slips under moon dance.
In Celtic myth, if a man steals a female selkie's skin she is in his power and is forced to become his wife.  Female selkies are said to make excellent wives, but because their true home is the sea, they will often be seen gazing longingly at the ocean.  Sometimes, a selkie maiden is taken as a wife by a human man and she has several children by him.

Selkies (also spelled silkies, selchies; Irish/Scottish Gaelic: selchidh, Scots: selkie fowk) are mythological creatures found in Scottish, Irish, and Faroese folklore.  Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend is apparently most common in Orkney and Shetland and is very similar to those of swan maidens.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2015
( Sonnet )*

I once caught you naked by the sea,
No one noticed, such noble shyness,
Invited to lands, aloof as sun breeze,
Of purple sands, heathered highness.

In novae of your eyes was shipwreck,
Forlorn beacon chiding the weary lost
Of new worlds lumbered on the decks,
Seabirds caroled up wing, heavens' loft.

Skin, fleshy of netted eel, salt and foam,
Was hide for a brigand, lubbers sessions,
Sheered by sheen, blinding sky of gloam,
Stars runged on their draped processions.

Corals, sea wave, slips under moon dance;
My seal, now fated, cloak within jubilance.
In Celtic myth, if a man steals a female selkie's skin she is in his power and is forced to become his wife.  Female selkies are said to make excellent wives, but because their true home is the sea, they will often be seen gazing longingly at the ocean.  Sometimes, a selkie maiden is taken as a wife by a human man and she has several children by him.

Selkies (also spelled silkies, selchies; Irish/Scottish Gaelic: selchidh, Scots: selkie fowk) are mythological creatures found in Scottish, Irish, and Faroese folklore.  Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend is apparently most common in Orkney and Shetland and is very similar to those of swan maidens.
.
starstrike Jul 2020
terrestrial minds suffocate in the clouds
Logic and Rationale scream out loud
consuming the oxygen needed to live and die
leaving none for those with galaxies in their eyes.

Atmosphere pressures all to conform
and crushes all that stray from the norm.
These are conditions where land lubbers thrive
and star chasers are crippled by society’s vice.
KG Jan 2021
My present hardly exists.
The day to day feels the same as 6 months ago until she made her appearance.
I've been neatly pressed into a mold to fill this cog shaped hole.
Steamland could use a sandwichmaker like me. My angry bread would laugh at how stupid the machine-like dreams money grubbers and land lubbers ring in my ears.
They fear the truth behind scenery reflected in my eyes.
So they'll ignore my laughing meat slapped on heated grain to feed and sustain the dreadhorde that fills their pockets till the change clatters across this sterile concrete for the rats to fight over.
She says she smiles when I'm happy.
I smile when she smiles is that too sappy?
Are we now trapped in happiness now the search has hit the last stop of this decade-long fix?
I hope so. I have my doubts and baggage, though I'm fairly certain I forgot it on the last train stop platform. Now can I ask all passengers to please head to the next car 10$ richer and not look back as we have only just met and need to fill up each others lack of *****?

— The End —