"seaman" poems
Winds from far foreign climes beats upon the Lizard rocks
Gulls driven towards the blackest of crags, yet pass over safely inland
In the darkest skies they wheel and spin as if torn by some giant’s hand
White horses gallop crests of waves as they rush towards tiny harbours
There to crash savagely and rend cut stones from their secured places
Men work to save their boats, fighting the storm which mothers sent
Nature conspires to take their very lives as they struggle with her might
Rocks gnash their teeth and boats not safe yet, pass near their faces
Hoping for the safety of their port, men’s white faces line their gunwales
Black, white, red, blue and yellow, boats colours lost within the spray
These same boats that forge the men they carry out upon the sea’s wrath
But now just seek to bring them safely home to their worried wives
Their women stand upon the quay or stare worried from their windows
Churchyards on the hills above seaside villages filled with headstones
Men’s deaths caused by storms in past times of fishing for their living
Leaving spouses, their children to carry on their traditions and religion
Headstones cut from the very granite of the weather worn Lizard cliffs
Menfolk deep beneath the Cornish loam, there to rest for all eternity
Whilst below in the thrashing storm, the families fight once again
Then as quickly as it came, the storm blows out, waters return to placid
Men stretch their aching backs, those hidden from storm turn out
The seaman’s mission helps as it can the fractured families
And church maybe rings for those lost out to sea, never to be seen again
There will be time to mourn, and the village will then lament together
And those who are left, they return to their sacred craft of netting fish
Return to shining calm, to ply their trade, to bring food to this isles shore
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
Up in the crows nest with the hawsers,a steel vest that ran up the ship and fastened itself to the West wind that blew,
sat, Tamale the blue,
so named, because of his dour expression,that was compressed on his features like a cold North depression,
and he wailed at the gales,the unfairness of being, a hangdog of a ****** who saw nothing worth seeing.
The salt etched in deep and slept in his face though the vessel awake,raced on in the night,
Tamale saw nothing until the Bosun cried, 'land of the starboard bow'
too late then, when Tamale awoke,the ship hit the reef line and the hull broke in two,
and Tamale the blue was thrown down to meet his very first day in the depths of the deep.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
*Tybee , the Masters sonata of wind , crashing wave , sand and tide , Alpha and Omega of rippling current , mighty Savannah River completes her southern journey here .. As Sailor , ****** and maritime entrepreneur , embark , having left the security of her shore into the mighty , unforgiving Atlantic , her Lighthouse , a living testament to sacrifice , safe return to port as well as those forever lost at sea*
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Water lapped up the side of the lifeboat
as it bobbed up and down on the sea
only seven ****** had survived
the rest had gone under and drowned
The first officer and the stoker
lent over a fellow ******
he was coughing up oil
and in unbearable pain, was screaming
The stoker mumbled, He's not got long
then he started to sob in his hands bitterly
they had been torpedoed by a U Boat
a day and three quarters out of Italy
The coughing then stopped
the ****** was dead
so they said a little prayer
then tipped him over the edge
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
I hear the thunder meddling
its way among the raindrops
that permeate through sunlight
and realize
that the weather is a motif
for God's emotional prognosis.
God is but a ******
he and I stammer upon the same boat.
Our existence makes a pair
of helplessly hanging doppelgangers,
orbs of confusion that contract
whiplash with every turn they make.
Two repressed housewives
that put all their hopes and dreams
in a shit-stained smile.
This collision of light and malevolance
is but His way of symbolizing
my shame-patronized indecision
in a way that makes people tear up
at the joy of beauty.
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:50 AM UTC
The ******
Tried so very hard to please his crew
But you see
Out on the high seas
Tensions run high
But you cannot take words
Back
See the crew loved the ******
They just didn’t know how to show it
In the night
The ****** rowed on a rowboat
Far away from the harsh crew
The crew saw him
Stop they yelled
But the ****** was already gone
Just
Like
That.
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 8:23 AM UTC
"You had better look after yourself."
I am not the one in need of help!
To turn an eye to the struggle turns me into something I am not.
An advocate,
A teacher,
A model, firefighter, ****** student, musician...
What am I missin?
What have I got?
Without material things... who are you really?
Do you know why anything sings?
Or that if we don't change we will suffer severely.
Do not fear the unknown.
Walk towards the dark until you know, shedding your energy like light, with you wherever you go.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
Flabbergasted, the whale wails
Lonely upon the sea drifting ever apart
A sole ****** raises his tired sails
Forever trapped in solitary solace
Winds warping the canvas
While ominous clouds encroach
The salty breeze stinging his taste
A bitterness within the calm
Peace drowns with the fury
That the storm has yet to bring
Fear not, creature of the sea
The troublesome life is far from over
Another night trashing about
The rock and the roll of the bow
A lullaby to a tired soul
Slowly rocking to dreamless sleep
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
Mary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves
She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day
With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast
Sailing victorious and proud - her billowing white sails were cast
The calm, liquid waters of the sea flowed quietly purple for now-
Unaware of the coming storm that would beat furious against her bow
Her alabaster sails whipped violent and furious in the oncoming storm
Impending doom was yelling its cries while the ****** went unwarned
Down below, inside their cabins the ****** peacefully slept
Wrapped in the secure watch that their gallant captain kept
The oceans black, boiling waves beat savage against starboard and port
As Captain Noe standing fearless - at first quake, did not the storm report
The old wooden beams of the Mary Rose began to restlessly moan and creak
While the blackened roaring, rolling waves beat furious against her feet
Her alabaster sails rose proud- beating mighty against wailing squalls and gusts
While deep inside the bow in bunks, the sleeping ****** ******
Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out
When the ****** heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt
“Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared
“Alive! Awake… all ye’ ****** come quickly up on board”!
The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear
While the brave captain fought - loyal ****** brought up the rear
They courageously fought together - not silenced by the eye of death
As the sea raged violently against them with its brutal, menacing breath
To save their mighty Mary Rose, they’d dip their very souls in blood
Leaving themselves merciless against this drunken, mighty flood
With plank and bow standing fierce between them and their fate
The raging ocean’s fierce, blackened waves - the sea they could not hate
The morning brought the warming sun which rose broad above the waves
The winds had tamed their violent voice against captain and ****** brave
With unshakable courage and seaman’s wit not once were spirits broke
Each cheered his mate and captain strong as they fought with steady stroke
Their peril fought in days of danger and night filled with pain
Their manly courage did not wane - their fight was not in vain
For all the courageous ****** and their brave Captain Noe
Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
Well I was skilled in body language
And you were skilled in breaking hearts
So close in heart,
Yet so far apart.
Souls connected,
Hands touched.
Remember this moment.
Remember the feelings
Remember your lies,
Yet remember how I am perfectly fine.
We can go back to the ambivalence of the times,
The innocent liquor,
That one night where I could say you were mine.
You were my new muse,
An alternate soul.
Did I love you?
Not even close.
Did I want to lose you?
No.
In your youth you probably shan't learn who you are yet,
But I feel sorry for you.
It will hit you like the ****** falling through the mast of your ships.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
Sick and cyclical memories linger, how unjust it seems
In somber city streets, her father's name she screams
When the fix is late and her body sodden and shaking
Her childhood recollections waking, every joint aching
Falling on tarmac, tearing stockings and fleshy knees
Through the distant mist it's a saviour that she sees
Marvin on a white steed, motorbike and leathers
To get her straight he only requires her nethers
What difference could it make to such a worn woman
So little that her eyes glaze as he announces his comin'
And she's immediately put to work after initial transaction
All night shifts, ****** abstraction, customer satisfaction
Returning 'home' to Marvin where the earnings are counted
Giggling schoolgirl as playful stories of John's are recounted
And Marvin's insatiable perversions are compounded
****** cocktails and deviancy, her psyche confounded
The **** sleeps blissfully beside his new top girl
And through ****** daze, she examines her world
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
When the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lies dead—
When the cloud is scattered,
The rainbow’s glory is shed.
When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remembered not;
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot.
As music and splendour
Survive not the lamp and the lute,
The heart’s echoes render
No song when the spirit is mute—
No song but sad dirges,
Like the wind through a ruined cell,
Or the mournful surges
That ring the dead seaman’s knell.
When hearts have once mingled,
Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possessed.
O Love! who bewailest
The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
For your cradle, your home, and your bier?
Its passions will rock thee,
As the storms rock the ravens on high;
Bright reason will mock thee,
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home
Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come.
2.6k
Ah here sits the stone on the ground
The shrub on the hill. A
Natural state of affairs if you will.
Retched Earth, abominable stone
Why the nerve of the rag tag tree
To perch ones self in stark relief
Blocking the skyline, space invader.
Thief.
Why the unmitigated gall.
Of the rain to fall on withered
Pate..
Tis the empty barrel that rumbles profusely.
The shallow stream that muddles at the bottom.
Pyramid craniums, issues forth babble.
Slackjawd mouth-breather.
Knee **** Buffoon.
Perched in perpetuity,howling
at the moon.
The my way or the Highwayman, astride a cocked horse.
The cant see the beauty of the Forrest for the treeman.
Bull headed, Ram goat Salty old ******
Failure to Communicate.
Rush to excommunicate
Monolythic seer
Cotton eyed joe
Constipated thinker.
Oh the comfort and surety
of riding in the ruts.
.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
I don't want to be the one to lead the way,
But I still want to be the one to save the day.
I want to be a part of something bigger
I might not be a saint, but I admit I'm a sinner.
I smile like an angel, scheme like a demon,
And swear enough to embarrass a ******
A hero doesn't want dark to shadow his light
I'll shake the world cause I'm not afraid of the night.
I was born in the dark, but I want what's right;
I've got a hero complex, and I'm not afraid to fight.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC
He who doubts me shall one day admire.
He he scorns me shall later revere.
He who accompanies will rise with my fire
while he who rejects dies grimly in fear.
He who will listen to here what I know
Is invited to stand-up and argue, if sharper.
He who accepts may play on my team,
Though, he who respects gets promoted to partner.
He who helps others when all else has failed
has secured my blessing in fighting the demon.
So, friend, face the storm and boldly set sail.
I share with you poise, self confident ******
Believe in yourself. Don't ever lose hope.
A dope of a man gives up on a whim.
But if I should fall, and call for a rope...
I thank you your throw. Together we'll win.
Save tomorrow for memories and smiles with no pain,
as today we face all of yesteryear's hurt.
Though, if I should slip and call out your name.
I thank you for being there, true man of his word.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
You and I are going to settle this score
Now that you've abandoned your special snowflake campaign
And overcome your Stockholm Syndrome
A dynasty has been created
The snowball's chance begins to take effect
The short order cook has taken a tall order
A citrus feast for a ship of marauders
To prevent scurvy
The maitre d' disarmed them at the door
And allowed them to infiltrate the dining hall
The captain sat and twiddled his thumbs while his crew cut loose
The first mate drank fire water and shot it out of his nose
The quarter master ordered some fiddlesticks served on door glass
The boatswain ordered the insemination of a cow so he could eat the cow and all of its offspring
It was his first day eating meat again
He remembered his vegan salad days
The carpenter and ****** constructed a shrine of after dinner mints
And conducted a seance to talk to their old crew mate, Black eyed Ollie
He squandered his life searching the sea for a doctor to restore his sight
They planned to revive him and allow his spirit to possess one of them
And sure enough Black eyed Ollie entered the seaman's body and they took turns controlling the fleshy vessel
Black eyed Ollie got every day of the week that ended in "Y" and the seaman got the rest
The filching crew of blighters finished their meal and went on their way
They left quite a tip
"Actions speak louder than words and money talks too
Yet talk is cheap
But time is money
So every burning second counts
Then let's freeze time
Take action and buy all the talk at whole sale price
And sell it at retail price"
So pay up man, I told you working here would be interesting
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
*Weathered oak of ancient age
Sandblasted by Sirocco storm
Ribbed and dry and redly sage
Deep corrugated graining, worn.
Grown on hillside far away
Far, in England’s verdant land,
Hewn by artisan of old
Hewn by axe and sinewed hand.
Hauled across a raging sea
By barque of seaman’s sail and hope,
Washed by salted wave and gale
Lashed to deck by weathered rope.
Dragged across hot dunes of sand
To a land called Galilee,
Hauled by He, betrayed by man,
Upon the hill of Calvary.
Hoisted high by Roman hand
Stark against a leaden sky,
Red blood stains on oaken cross
On which His Crown of Thorns shall cry.*
M.
Easter Sunday 2014
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
me grandad was a ******
he had an old ships gyroscope
that he would spin up
and set in the palm
of his open hand
dis ere has seen every dock
an point inbetween
dis world has to find
he would say
a mantra maybe
then he would sit it upon
the tip of my trembling
outstretched finger
holding my wrist
proving his point
steeling the tremble
balance in all things
he would say
to my mesmerised
widened whitened
crying out to be wisened eyes
and let go
balance
then he would set it atilt
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
*...Then light gives way to shadow ‘neath
and wind doth surge through cold cliff’s teeth
The ship finds doom among those rocks
just as a city o’er come with pox.
How the ****** cry, a riotous swell
without anger, fury, none will tell
The story dies as the pinnace snaps
another secret lost in gaps
‘The skiffs!’ they screamed a’running quick
but salvation dashed, the tides too thick
Each man, a child, cannot swim
their bodies thrown, the ocean’s whim
No remnants left upon the shore
the men aboard were seen no more
Wives and sons a’wept and wept
the sea forever in contempt...*
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
The April morning's quiet
and so is the November.
Wherever people outnumber trees
or the dominant cover type
is unquiet. Nothing wrong with that.
Walt got it right, and Jane Jacobs:
the city is an experienced,
used beauty. Her toes are long,
nails thick and hair thin. Yet
her kisses can be sweet; or
smell of **** All my life I've tried to point my window toward
some narrow wedge of nature.
On ****** Ave., over the roof
beyond the chimneys to the park
where every dog was walked.
Could I survive soot and an air shaft now, pigeons and cats,
or even a desk in the legislature for my lot in life. How about
prison like Etheridge Knight,
Nazim Hikmet?
I've gotten soft.
When he builds that house in the pocket
wetland my window now looks out on,
the developer will have given me what I need.
Amphibian mortality,
gravel, fill,
oak, ash and maples felled. Good
to the last drop is our bitterness, our love.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 11:03 AM UTC
Verily I wait for you,
Steady as a ******
Guiding his vessel
Through choppy, blackened seas.
I remain steadfast;
A sentinel by the telephone.
Hours pass and I remain,
Fidelity has hardened me
To the passing of time.
All I do is wait for you,
To hear your voice,
To see your face,
To make you real again.
How much longer must I stay here?
I wonder without moving.
I doubt but never waver.
At the risk of bitter heartache,
I wait to be rewarded by your "hello."
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
Miryam walks along the beach
in her swimming attire, some red
and flowered design, Benedict
notes, walking just behind, having
left the two Moroccan guys behind
with the camel, with whom she'd
posed while he took camera shot.
Bet they don't do that everyday, she
says, swaying her delicious backside
side to side. No, guess not, least
not by the look on their faces,
Benedict says. She laughs, does
a Monroe kind of walk and wiggle.
We came down here last night, she
says, it was quite romantic what
with the moon, stars and warm air.
She stops and turns to look at him.
Was it about here? she asks. He
gazes about him, at the sand and
tufts of grass, the sky blue and the
odd white clouds, could be, hard
to say, it being dark and all. You
found your way around all right,
she says, smiling. Well, a guy gets
to know his way around after a while,
bit like a ****** gets to know the sea,
the rough times and the smooth,
the high tides and the low, when
its best to set out and when to stay
in port. She frowns. Is that what it's
like for you guys? Just like that? No,
he says, just being philosophical, in
fact, it was a good evening, a fine
**** he says softly. Is that all? she
asks. She stands there her hands
on hips, her head to one side. No,
of course not, it's just us guys hate
to get all soft about these things,
he says. She pouts. Soft? These
things? she says. Can't you just
say it was romantic? She says, is
it hard to say that? A fine ****
Is that easier to say? It's just one
syllable instead of three, he says.
She turns and walks on through
the sand. He follows, taking in
her figure, her side to side ***
the tight red hair. OK, he says, it
was a romantic night, I loved the
whole set up, the stars, the moon,
you and me, the sand, the soft tufts
of grass, the *** the kisses, the holds.
She stops and turns and gazes at him.
It has to mean something, she says,
otherwise we waste our lives in such
pointlessness. He nods, zooms in on
her small **** her eyes, her whole features.
Sure we do, he says, you're right, it
was one fine romantic never to be
forgotten night. She smiles and walks
to him and kisses him and holds him.
He holds her, feels her, senses her lips
on his, and out of the corner of his eye,
he sees the two Moroccan guys and
camel walk away up the beach, they'll
never know this, he thinks, feeling smug,
far beyond their lives or random reach.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
She has sunshine
in her hair,
like sun
on fields of corn.
I walk there,
brushing my fingers
through the softness.
She welcomes me in,
in I swim
through the waves
of her love;
she is my siren,
I, a drowning ******
Her lips are as fruit,
I am upon them
as a child greedy
for sustenance;
her moistness
embraces me.
Her thighs are ocean-like,
I bathe as one
needing salvation,
ablutions to a new end,
will this release
the dead me
or mend?
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
Churning
Boisterous to me life a high powerful stormy sea will I ever see land again those peaceful
Dales the trees so deeply rooted in there canopy the swaying seems as undersea waves so softly they
Stir as at play deep valleys and hills below above aluminous sun light makes a rich glow in its tow I go
Ever so slow the sea grass moves in a musical undulating fashion the same as the grass on the plains
Colors diverse with coral markers at depths that unrest at the surface doesn’t reach the frothing foam
As it were a great goblet filled for god to drink a offering of thanks for such wonder that can be a
Complexity at once filling heights of emotional strands then instantly terrifying foreboding illustrious
Without equal so vast stretching all the bounds you have ever known by the sea blown tales that are
As voluminous as the sea itself adventure in the raw highlighted with charm by the cawing of the seagull
With the same speed they dive and climb on the surface races the dolphin the embodiment of joy and
Laughter the sea rescuers has been some of their duties to the blessing of many lost mariners in cold
Chilly waters these bubbly ones was the difference between life and death the sea does spray as with
Glory unbound in this all concluding vesture that is seamless all consuming tiring but invigorating once
The sea salt has entered your blood there is no escape its lore hypnotic unbreakable break waters will
Carry you inland by that she granted your greatest desire after she has reared her head and gave you
The Undeniable look at deaths watery jaws but when on her mercy you survive or in some fashion are
Flung on the shore you lose your emotional tiller and blubber like a baby then the manly part curses all
She Put you through you know one thing for certain never will she catch you a float but little do you
Know her winsome call withers all about so you hungrily crave the sea tossed tempest its excitement is a
Drug that a ****** has no cure for it puts robust living in your path all of your days while the timid land
Dwellers only look on in awe and admiration
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
***... An unknown crime towards those, the same
yet none would ever know his name
But once they might have called him brother
so soon he goes to end another
A life, a faith, so pure of heart
was poisoned, dearly, from the start
So truth, it seems, one cannot trust
when those most close hold secret lust
He bade them well, those wives and sons
now soiled, dark, the world soon shuns
He smiled, pleased on death’s behalf
and let go one deep, cold laugh***
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC