"seafarers" poems
We can only afford to contain our fires
Turning to... Soothsaying waters
Soothsaying rain, empty out your bottles
Irrigate from our heart puddles
Let flow into a singular well
An oasis where our hearts would kiss and silently tell
Submerge us as one being
The water milling and licking
Kissing our warm skins
Wash away as it purges and cleans
Cleansing waters, wash and give birth
Rid of the sadness to reveal the earth
Of this earth, you and I are one
Looking up to idolise the same sun
Wedged between... This expanse of redundant land
Pining for the mixing of our sands
We... We are made of the same
Earth, dirt and gravel placed in different games
Bearing similar stones that beat
Beating away the seconds that flit
Earth biding time... Stay on ground
Let wind take your souls to realms unbound
Casting our souls into the wind
Carved hearts on flags we pinned
Kites of love set to catch the air
Wind be kind... Carry us easy with care
Gift us your gentle airy fingers
As you would the sails of hopeful seafarers
Together we would dance and billow
Frolic upon your light feathered pillow
Ride the wind, on wings that never tire
Tiny bites that keep us afire
Never needing a flint to set alive the flame
Stoking the fire that burns on the same
Rhymes and reasons be our fuel
Combat logic and sense in a cerebral duel
Fight in our eyes, subdued are the blazes
Embers dormant behind glassy tearful gazes
Spark them to life with passionate heat
Fan them to rage till the time our hearts meet
But still... We must contain our fires
With nothing but soothsaying waters
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
but it was only the old man
sitting there on the dock
his weathered smile and dancing eyes
when he spoke it was a rough sound
like cadence of seafarers raising sail
in the long rays of summer eve setting sun
off the ancient shores celebrated in song
he spun me a tale of uncharted lands
and beautiful maidens in tropical forests
wild nights in some forgotten port
*** and the dancehall glow in memory
they are the stories shared on the long voyage
they are the smile in this old mans memories
the scent of salt and the rhythm of
the waves breaking on the shore
surround as he weaves his story
with the years flowin like the waves neath the prow
tacking east to a rising sun
it seems like a living breathing dream
as alive as the sea herself
as alive as the sparkling beauty in the memories
of an old man
weaving his tale
by the seaside
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
While continuing
My voyage across the sea
Aboard this gracious ship
Here I am spinning
A web of disgrace
In the name of seafarers
Around the open sea
Looking forward to
An islander's love
As I doze into below deck
While the ship rocks me to sleep
Caressing
As I nest
This lovely sea gull
So gingerly
Gazing in it's eyes
With passion
As I set her free
To the open winds
While I'm dreaming at sea
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 5:48 AM UTC
.
**•atop the mast billows
my wind-tossed rag•grinning skull embla-
zoned proud•the starkness of black upon my flag
•piercing the encroaching sea mist and shroud•her-
ald the sight of the jolly roger • instilling trepidation
in all who sail through my turf • fuelled by the thirst
to pillage and plunder•others before, have sunk into
graves beneath the surf•my salt encrusted timber
creaks a frightening low growl•
my hull would pum- mel thro-
ugh the opposing waves• my sails bloat full trapping
winds that howl•my deck bears the screams
of a thousan- d slaves•know
me, seafarers... i am no legend but
truth•avast! seafarers, i am the tale
that looms•believe me, seafarers for i
am ca- pable of all things**
••• •••
**uncouth •fear me,
seafarers for i am your
doom•you could sail the seas with
the world's most skillful of crew•
you cannot deny the
inevitable
heavy hand of fate•be-
cause once my vessel comes
within view •you would
know for certain that it's already
••••••• •••••••
••••• •••••**
too late•
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
Sea life
Glamorous,glittering
Adventourous indeed
But not only
Lot of hazards are there
Alongwith the greatest
What's that?
Greatest enemy of us
It's none but loneliness
Cruel truth of life
Still seafarers have to survive-Written on 06.09.2012,Thursday
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
As I lie beneath the starlit sky,
Thoughts of you and I fill my mind.
Not knowing how or why,
We meet in this grand old starlit sky.
I cherish each text,
Delivered with love, humor and adoration;
The darkness that you feel is you,
Will, hopefully, fade into
The light, which I claim to be.
Never going nor coming,
This path feels uncertain,
And steps are shaky as untraveled paths are said to be.
Living in the moment
Of stillness and glimpses of grandeur from above,
It is all I see now.
Perhaps the stars will lead me home,
As they did not so long ago,
When seafarers roamed the ocean,
As I now, roam the earth beneath the starlit sky.
- By the soul farer! -
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 5:54 AM UTC
Once upon a time, Everything was in a bottle. All the little universes were fizzing little bubbles, and the paths between them were made of clear clutter. There was a cork on the bottle, sealed and marked with an old sort of stamp, the kind that drips wax all over the glass and reminds old seafarers of rolled up scrolls and dreams thrown into the waves.
And once upon a time, someone melted down the wax, eased out the cork, and took a sip. All the stars burned spicy as cumin and the black holes left a sour sort of taste behind. It wasn’t a very orderly sort of soda. It wasn’t a very perfect one either. But it was the most delicious thing in- well, not in the universe. That’s what it was made of.
Once upon a time, Everything was in a bottle. Then, it wasn’t.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
We sing of the ocean,
start of all life.
Encompass frail creatures,
bring seafarers strife.
A mysterious womb,
God’s blessed daughter;
a mystical kingdom lies under it’s waters.
The echoes of waves run rampant above,
they bless the warm sands with treasures and love.
Cascading valleys hidden beneath,
magic encumbers each barrier reef.
Color her lure,
The moon makes love
to her everynight.
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 7:46 PM UTC
She stands at the wall reflecting
on those who were lost at sea
names and poems and words connecting
her to those poor souls and to me.
Beyond those memorial walls
the mighty Columbia into the Pacific spills
whose depth and wealth have called
so many to sail from Oregon's green hills.
From the safety of their home
they left for the great unknown
where writers and poets travel
every time they pen their spirit in word
to explore what God and life has unraveled
what pain, sorrow and joy have stirred.
Her kindness and her reflection move me to write
my poems of wandering from a safe and tidy home
to regions of imagination’s heights
shadows, sorrows, or oceans’ foam.
She reads and lives life’s poetry
knows its canyons and desert sands
she yearns only to be free
of the noise and anger of badlands
to smell the freshness of a cool and gentle breeze
feel the air brushing her arms
to look up and see the greenness of trees
to be free from crushing and brutal harm.
I see her standing and watch her reflection there
with seafarers, poets and lovers at peace
where God’s creative breath stirs air
and torments, terrors, and quarrels cease.
Author’s Note: My sister Genie who lives in a large urban area visited Astoria, Oregon where the Columbia river ends in the Pacific Ocean and local citizens have erected a memorial park with several walls of polished black granite that display the names of mariners lost at sea. There are also sentiments and poems about those lost souls one of which Genie photographed and sent to me. As I examined the photo I could see her reflection on the wall as kind of a background for the poem. That photo and my sister who loves nature and trees inspired this writing. I wish I could post the pic here for you to see why and how it inspired me.
Below is the untitled poem on the memorial wall photographed by my sister.
Weep not for me that I go to sea.
I shan’t be lonely, though vastness surround me.
The brotherhood of the sea shall be my family.
The kinship of the deep my company.
Weep not for me, nor worry over harm.
My heart stays with you, still and warm.
In sunrise and starlight my hearth and home
I carry you with me wherever I roam.
Weep not for me, whether bad luck or good.
Tossed about in a shell of steel and wood.
An ancient salt sea sails within my blood –
I but follow its tide through ebb and flood.
Weep not for me that I go to sea:
in the limitless ocean I am free.
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 10:40 AM UTC
The first love for me
It was always the sea.
Being lovingly caressed
Being slowly undressed
By the deep oceans call.
Being caught as I fall
Into Kingdoms below.
Where I flow
Into gleaming ravines
Into Davy Jones dreams.
And on the network of tides
I slide into rides
And slip into waves
Of mermaids and slaves.
I glide upon stallions
Sail in lost galleons
And float in with the breath
Of those swallowing death.
As the seafarers are pounded
As schooners are grounded.
And sink into the deep
In silence they keep
The first love for me
It was always the sea.
John Smallshaw 2011.
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 7:10 AM UTC
The first love for me
It was always the sea.
Being lovingly caressed
Being slowly undressed
By the deep oceans call.
Being caught as I fall
Into Kingdoms below.
Where I flow
Into gleaming ravines
Into Davy Jones dreams.
And on the network of tides
I slide into rides
And slip into waves
Of mermaids and slaves.
I glide upon stallions
Sail in lost galleons
And float in with the breath
Of those swallowing death.
As the seafarers are pounded
As schooners are grounded.
And sink into the deep
In silence they keep
The first love for me
It was always the sea.
John Smallshaw 2011.
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 7:10 AM UTC
True as the oceanside bonfires ..
Embers that parlay their very existence ,
at mercy of Poseidon's petulant expanse ..
Gale-borne , maritime id ...
Devout seafarers in perpetual , celestial
navigation ..
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
” The freshness is gone the interest is lost
We portray love just for facebook post.
The madness decreases, the excitement reduces
Laden with chore our love ceases
The sparkle fades and then
We see the darker shades
Eating together,sleeping together
Still isn’t there a silent war???
This is the person I still adore
But somewhere deep I feel
“We don’t talk anymore???”
And here to describe our current situation in the relation I penned down a few words:
We stay miles apart
And you ask if it doesn’t hurt
The agony of missing
The excitement of meeting
Feeling ambivalent
But that’s how it was meant..
The freshness, the madness
The smiles on our face
The gifts the surprises
And our love never ceases
We understand the worth
Only when we are away
And then we look forth
For every passing day..
I cannot see your face
I cannot hear your voice
Then the phone rings
And our hearts make this noise
We tease each other
About having an another,
Enchants of our past
Mysteries of the future
We never fail to pour our emotion
And that’s when we feel we had “The Conversation”
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
Human Maggots
If ********** *****
From millions of seafarers
Over hundred years
Think if this floating loneliness
Had met up and formed
An Island
And up from its depth sprung
The unborn like larvae
Whose only contact
With mothers were what
The ******
Was dreaming of at the time
Not Atlantis re- emerging
But an island born out of tedium
And tired desire
Not on a chart
To find its existence
So be careful when dreaming.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
the seafarers of old
did take to their ships
to discover new lands
on blue waters trips
vast distances they did
sail around the globe
with sails billowing
in the wind's driving lobe
neath the stars they'd chart
a course through the tides
with their ships full of cargo
stored inside the hull's hide
square riggers sailed
to lands far away
their decks and masts
plying the brine's spray
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
Whilom seafarers in rapture,
seven minutes in heaven,
then nothing but bathos,
--a woman in bed,
she and Rembrandt quarreling
over fidelity or obedience to her king?
"It is I, Seagull!"
"Everything is fine. I see the horizon..."
Night sky, a blow torch,
a golden rain flowing between her legs,
curled in the veil of imperial lineage and/or arousal,
--ballistic arc,
peering into the hand mirror,
a breach of promise staring back.
"Will the flight
affect your reproductive organs, Danaë?"
"Conceivably...
and how they shall weep
when things go wrong between us?"
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 10:50 AM UTC
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
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
Boats and ships are sailing in and out, seafarers and merchants; bustling about, the busy port, like a work of art, filled with last kisses, before long months apart.
A place of noises, smells, emotion, comotion...
A place of lies, farewells and goodbyes...
The sea is calling so many away, starting adventures one beautiful day, watching the winds and waves at play.
The port is a sad and happy place, for him: an adventure ready to start,
for her: a sad day, before a long time apart.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
Shipping as it was
He had many ships the old ship owner
He liked to visit his vessels eat the onboard cuisine
Talk to the crew he knew their names
Listened to them and their problems
****** stayed onboard long on his ship some
Tor years they knew nothing of life ashore
And when the ship was in harbour only ventured to
The nearest bar one can say they had become
Shipionalised
He died the old man and the expert shipping people
Took charge, reduced the crew number no benefits
Finally hired crew from Asia and flagging out to
Avoid paying taxes.
Shipping as we knew it had come to an end, sad
But nothing lasts forever but it galls me to think
Fifty thousand seafarers lost their job and
It didn't make a headline in any newspaper
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 5:47 AM UTC
Empty beds are the places I feel most like myself
Lonely.
Accompanied only by my heavy lifting thoughts, breaking waves on my subconscious
I am an abandoned seafarers cabin, nestled among shells found in tidepools
Prehistoric.
Always waiting to be found.
My one roomed castle is not barren, filled with echos of the skeletons that
o
v
e
r
fill my closet.
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 3:08 AM UTC
Sea life
Glamorous,glittering
Adventourous indeed
But not only
Lot of hazards are there
Alongwith the greatest
What's that?
Greatest enemy of us
It's none but loneliness
Cruel truth of life
Still seafarers have to survive-Written on 06.09.2012,Thursday
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
Let it help to show, through your explorations,
How adventurous life's journey can be.
It is sure to take you
towards a brighter destination
One that only the few
boldest seafarers could see.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 3:54 AM UTC
Misfit
The four of them wore business mine from a second-hand shop
I joined them,
we went to a high-class restaurant, it was full, but there were side rooms
I lost my friends
ended up sitting by a table amongst people who thought I was a waiter.
I dressed for tennis the wrong time out of place,
quickly left followed to exit by derisive sniggers
Outside I changed into jeans and blue shirt just like
Seafarers on a movie does and could, from the top of the hill,
saw my ship leaving the pier; ran down till I tasted blood, too late,
she was gone forever
Because my nerdy needs to be accepted
Bought a suit walked back up to the restaurant, the guests were outside
playing tennis, some swam in the pool,
they still thought I was the waiter and ordered drinks.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 5:10 AM UTC