"seaworthy" poems
. sea and sand, .
salt and surf, foam and
froth, greet and gather, tumble
and turn, rock and roll, spray and
spin, cross and current, roar
and rise, crash and curdle, mix
and mash, blend and bash, drip
and drop, pour and plunder, leap and
layer, mound and mist, shine and sheen, scoop
and scale, spread and span, fall and falter, leap and
layer, splash and spire, bubble and brine, writhe and write
s e a w o r t h y
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 2:08 AM UTC
she turned the questions in her eyes aside
and stealing away in the quiet
of the pine forest winters day
the taste of wood smoke was tangible on the sharp cold air
and his eyes hunted the ridge crest for sing of flames
as they hurried their steps along the rough hewn track
she carried the child whos silent contemplation
showed his understandings of the gravity of this flight
the bundle of possessions on his shoulder
weighed upon his mind
counselling himself not to regret casting it all aside should need arise
the woman and child so fragile and dear to his heart
mean so much more than mere trinkets of gold
he would surrender without pause life and limb to spare them
she was a smoky version of bobby dylan
complete with winged snakes in each hand
complete with a crown of jewels
and the thousand words dance
he was a seafaring man
they reached the shore of the sea
and found the wreckage of a sailing ship
her fine line speaking clear of her swiftness
and her appointments show without shyness
that she was of the finest portugal shipyards
they spent days making her seaworthy
laying up in the harsh tropical sun
neath the palm trees drinking *** from her stores
they put to sea in the birth of the new year
singing 'goodbye spanish ladies'
the three of them on the skiff tacking up-channel
trying to determine latitude by sighting
but a fog rolls in off the coast of grande bahama
as dawn breaks
man woman and grown child
the miles and the treasures cast aside
each wore on open hearted face
but neath the weary of sea miles
was their joys in the true riches
of eachothers soft hand entwined as they sailed into
a golden dusk
of a lesser throne
a kingdom of the sea
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
a small craft,
barely deserving of such a compliment as
c r a f t e d,
a few boards, just enough caulking,
made quick, with no regard for artistry,
but sturdy none the less,
purposed for naught,
other than to get from there to
here
even, then, all the more,
as if time chose to reverse itself,
solidified it, this ships soul strength
rather than wore~warped
its character essential
unclear who was the wood
and who, the caulking glue,
but they held together in bonding so powerful
when strangers asked
what its purpose be,
this modest boat,
the locals
to a one,
always answered,
answered always consistent:
ancient and ungainly, not shapely,
purposed as if to be, simply
a reminder
that nothing
could ere
be graced more,
complimented, honored as,
*seaworthy,
than this human loving crafting,*
long-lasting,
maybe ever-lasting,
a tiny notional idea,
that two could get
you from here to
there
it is in the more stronger strength,
of one thing
created from a loving,
two combinatory realization,
ruled and ruling,
this
craft
came to be
ruler of the sea of humanity
8/15/17 12:36am
born, falling, borne into sleep, to
the music of Johann Pachelbel
combined with a gentling snoring
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Gothic on the sidewalk
lying in Graffiti
girl in a suntan
leaning 'gainst a tree
in Bikini
girl in blue jeans
dancing down the steps
pretty blue bikini
lying on the beach
***** on a railtrack
Making kissie-fish face
evening moods abound in leather
and in shades of tiffany [red]
a seaworthy lassie
Warning ***** words
looks like it's bedtime
six point five of her
girl on a bear rug
Who is behind the mask?
Posing for perfection
Eyes that smile back
Serious posing
Oh No! Modeling
runaway train strong
fairy-tale Queen
Babe on the beach
Looking so sweet
Look at her at sunset
What a treat
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
This peace you offer
Pinioned prayers and platitudes
Scry in the mercury shattered
Your brittle whispers snap in the rarified air
This madness is thunder at the back of my throat
Ragged and storm weary
I tread water in your wake
Spin my tahrihim and trim the fringe
I am the terminus of fragile breath
Falling away from you
Benedicimus Deum meum adventum et egrediente
There is solace in the blind blue moments
Let me surrender
To the baptism of despair
The upwelling catechism of deliquescence
Souls fall clutching the flesh
Gasping for one more shredding dream
Fill the spinnaker and set sail
I am no longer a seaworthy vessel
This tethered hope you offer
Stinging nettles in my mouth
On flitting wings
Is the drone of hornets in my hair
I crave
Oblivion
And you are bound to your promise
It is my free will
To let go...
06/12/12
TL Boehm
God bless my coming and my going out
melt away/decay
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
~
*faded mauve
butterflies
fluttering along
defeated
selenitic walks
the sound of
abandoned ship bells
in the far
parlor north
but the guilt of
wind is silent
like Venetian whispers
from motionless lips
us, then
inward and upward
one step too far
a house of strangers
tipping like boats
seaworthy as sleep
oars divide
the ocean
but framed pictures
and love letters
unite the walls
to this unstable floor
then, us
always, us*
~
Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 10:54 AM UTC
We were all sitting here alone
spiking our breakfast cereal
monochrome and melancholy
unique like bad grammar
we stammer and stumble
through thoughts sepia
and savor each sip
from bourbon laced Special K
our amber memories matching
the luxurious proof that we need
each other like broken toes
need designer moccasins
more or less useless in stupors
suave though still
as captains Morgan and Crunch
sail the high seas of our internal struggle
and pitch with unspoken conversation starters
and serene belief that the storm over head
is just a migraine like any other
meanwhile we sing seaworthy refrains of how
Honey Jack and Cheerios were made for each other
sending our feelings down to Davey Jones' deep
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
moody girl
resting her head on me
while i purge my thoughts to the page
spilling like a dark red wine
its all sticky but the words lay down
in complacent indifference
i **** them with a wooden stick
wishing they would run and fly
wishing they would speak with their own voice
but they only give a sluggish lip service to the effort
she is breathing a sleepy word of her own from my lap
lover
i type with one hand while the other is wrapped up in her dreadlocks
this is my gem moment of the day
we are alone
and all the day is behind us
twilight gathers us in its gentle arms
and i can just live in the moment
i can explore her
always some new way to see this complex girl
always some new way to be with her beautiful loves
she makes my heart seaworthy
the depth her articulate eyes say things to me
that i would never had dreamt
the storybook of her open face speaks to me
romances me with her fairytale heart
i am her prince
she is my bride
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 9:08 PM UTC
Many people don't seem to care
What is happening to our country
It's like we are on a ship
And there is a small hole
People ignore it
Oh that's just a small hole
They say
Soon there is another
More water coming in
The people would rather play cards and relax
I tell them
This is our ship
We don't get another
This is our nation
Yet people are oblivious
Oblivious to the water coming in
Well this ship just isn't seaworthy anymore
I won't abandon ship
I won't abandon
The values the founding fathers believe in
Come what may..
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
Stapled in blue light harmony, I abuse my silence, thinking in a way that could be construed as past tense
Slaved to my sand castles that were taken by waves
I'm a kid on the beach giving way to tourists' enclaves
Seaworthy and daft I **** my own gun, a habit I tell you is nothing but fun
I smoke myself to death on this boat that lies rest to my wake
Waves I've created I tell myself I'm obligated to break
I promise the hinges of my door are stressed for holidays sake, and everybody's got a piece of advice that they need to take
It's always as transparent as wishing on a birthday cake
There is no salvation in my morning slumber, whether I hear birds chirp or horizon rise
Car sounds are just as good of an alibi
As childhood dreams are for validating highs
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 5:35 AM UTC
Tethered to an illusion
He'd rather sink than swim
Abandon all six senses
Rather than feel desolation again
Tis' no crime to trace one's edges
But falling off is a different matter
Shame is a seaworthy vessel
Sailing on oceans of greed and clatter
He rappels from throne on high
Storms heed no man's command
An avalanche of fears behind him
Ahead, a bleak and lifeless wasteland
But seams don't tear unless they fray
Utopia costs more than infinite gold
Ambition built this city of avaritia
But he watches it crumble beneath the soul he sold
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
A lone slipper
Diary I wrote aged 18 (Unread, too piercing)
Battered biscuit tin I’d kept for years (in the hope it would prove useful (it didn’t))
Takeaway plastics (covered in grease and crusted rice)
Receipts (seconds after I am given them)
Poo explosion stained leggings aged 6-9 months at the Horniman Museum on 1st August 2020 (Jack’s 31st birthday)
My phone (an accident, obviously) into the bin at the hospital while I was in labour (retrieved soon after by a kindly HCA)
Green peppers from every meal in which they’ve been served to me (red and yellow are fine)
Opportunities (various, for various reasons)
A half used tube of e45 at least 5 years old (not mine, left by an ex boyfriend)
Eggshells, broken so a witch can’t use them for a sailboat (now I take care to leave them seaworthy)
Probably 20 pairs of cheap headphones (pocket knotted and wires exposed)
My potential (sorry Nan)
A makeup brush my toddler put in the (unflushed) toilet
Unopened bank statements (not even shredded)
Mystery unlabelled freezer meal (too scared to defrost, could be literally anything from anytime )
Tote bag stained with damson juice (used as emergency foraging bag one autumn, furtively collected from a stranger's driveway)
Old, bobbly tights (constricting yet baggy in all the wrong places)
Uni Laptop from 2012 (riddled with viruses from streaming tv shows by the hundred, and thousands of limewire songs)
My childhood dream to become a stain glass windows maker (not so much thrown away as abandoned due to not being a real career)
And the second slipper, found a week later
Aug 16, 2022
Aug 16, 2022 at 5:17 PM UTC
Welcome!
Oh storm cloud!
How like prow of ships you sail!
Billowing your wayward
sheets so full of wind
prevail! Your masts ne'r are broken
your rigging tried and true!
Not ever was there a vessel as seaworthy as you!
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
I only like you when your drunk
so save me for later.
Because I don't really care about you
I just care how much you care about me.
So sail with me, are you seaworthy?
Seven shots of brandy,
seven beers,
try and keep up, okay?
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
Sometimes I wonder
if we were really meant to be,
if our irregular edges
wouldn't fit better elsewhere,
if our promises weren't made
by two totally different people.
But then I remember,
there's no such thing as "meant to be",
we weren't molded as two
completely fulfilled entities in one,
people change,
and love can and will,
be found where chemistry strikes.
But our partnership is a choice.
And maybe it was foolish to choose
to anchor two seaworthy ships,
both headed for adventure
on opposite seas
so early in their journeys.
And yet, there are so many
places I would not have been,
things I would not have felt, and
conversations I would not have had,
without you.
Not all days are smooth sailing,
and I still intend to see other shores,
but we know that now,
and we have each others' oars.
We belong to no one,
And yet, I'm yours.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
Old boats beached
no longer seaworthy,
just stranded on beach pebbles,
hearing the roar of sea and wind,
being the background
to photograph shots
then forgotten
like yesterday's news.
Sometimes I feel like that old boat
no longer fit for the sea,
unable to ride rough seas or float,
hearing the roar of the sea
of life and youth
and the wind of change;
being the background
to photograph shoots
and selfie companion.
Then I muse that unlike the boat
I have a fine crew to set me up
and sea-ready to a small degree
to arrange my frail sails,
and off once more to sea.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC