"shipmates" poems
We were west of the Azores,
Five days out of New York,
when we spotted the Mary Celeste.
She was listing to Leeward
But still under sail
with no obvious sign of distress.
Briggs, Her captain, I knew
as a man good and true
And his shipmates
were capable men.
We hailed, but no answer,
So I send men aboard
To find out what had become of them.
Her cargo intact, just one lifeboat gone
And a rope that trailed aft in the sea.
Something had caused them
To abandon their ship
but why was a mystery to me.
There are storms on the Ocean
As winter draws near;
A sea grave was his crew's likely fate
Or else they were drifting
Ever farther from shore
with nothing to eat on their plates.
I gave thanks to God’s grace
that cold, indifferent Fate’s
bony fingers had not touched on me
and I wept for my friends
of the Mary Celeste
who would never
come home from the sea.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
Water wives live sheltered lives
Amongst the coves where pirates rove
Daily catch is makers match
Where red hot stoves hide fresh baked loaves
Water men are thick and thin
So often strove where shipmates hove
Water child is often wild
The treasure trove where pirates roved
r ~ 19Mar14
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
we
boarded
our
ships
and
hoist the
Royal Queen's flag
the
captain
shouted out
maties
all
hands on deck
while
the
shipmates replied
aye...aye Captain Bly
we
coupled our sails
and
we
started our
young maiden voyage
through
the
White Cliffs of Wales
upon
the
dark wine sea
if
below
her
where
we
joined our sails
and
the
Scottish
bagpipes march behind
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
The Captain and I are shipmates tonight.
We ride out the storm together till morning light.
A glass full of his wisdom by my side in repose,
where his torrent of words will take me, who knows?
But a sentence reaches me by the bedside lamp's glow.
The truth of it kills
and I wish it unsaid.
*** He whispers "won't fill
an empty bed,"
"Yes..." I sadly opine.
"But it dulls the pain...
fills my senses just fine."
The Captain nods, satisfied, and the ship rumbles
as it is tossed about by wind and rain.
He motions in the cabin boy, who tumbles
inside, and pours me another glass of pain.
Red like her lips.
Dark like her eyes.
Heady like her scent.
Fluid like her hips...
The Captain grabs my shoulder.
"Forget her." His eyes smoulder
louder than hers...
I reach for the wine.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
In eighty four,
when I was eighteen.
I joined the Navy,
so proud and so lean.
First day aboard,
my ship I laid footed.
An accident happened,
this guy was beheaded.
I witnessed it all,
a faint scream, now gone.
Blood everywhere,
I was shocked in stone.
Life is but different,
floating on the sea.
But darkness still lurks,
coming out of the deep.
They called it traditions,
it brought back my past.
The name callings, the torture,
How long will it last?
Hours turns days,
days into years.
Counting my time,
holding back tears.
We had risen the Shield,
another accident happened,
lost twenty one shipmates,
Never forgotten.
At one in the 'morn,
the ferry went down.
In the Bay of Haifa,
twenty one did drown.
They finally came home,
in a flag draped box,
Hearing taps on corner,
Home but not lost.
My demons continue,
to many deaf ear,
bring sadness and sorrow,
bring heartache and tears
One final vision,
that I can not erase.
my friend screamed horror
and the look on his face
The wheel of an aircraft,
rolled over his femur,
crushing and smashing,
Lost in a fever.
Blood and bones,
I'll never forget.
His piercing screams,
still gets me upset.
Twenty long years,
I lived on the sea.
Lost many great men
and their pain is still with me.
Onto my next step,
But what do I do?
These demons keep chasing me,
Can I **** them off too?
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
Bells within
cause clangor,
drown
sounds that
currents make as
they boil past-
we go in
opposite.
White lie servants,
steering the wheel so
far south,
how could we not
go down?
No Captain to
guide.
And though this
vessel's shared,
We've proven only
mock shipmates.
Churning swifts keep all
aboard-
Ship clutch tenants
close.
All at once trapped
and
left behind.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
We were west of the Azores,
Five days out of New York,
when we spotted the Mary Celeste.
She was listing to Leeward
But still under sail
with no obvious sign of distress.
Briggs, Her captain, I knew
as a man good and true
And his shipmates
were capable men.
We hailed, but no answer,
So I send men aboard
To find out what had become of them.
Her cargo intact, just one lifeboat gone
And a rope that trailed aft in the sea.
Something had caused them
To abandon their ship
but why was a mystery to me.
There are storms on the Ocean
As winter draws near;
A sea grave was their likely fate
Or else they were drifting
Ever farther from shore
with nothing to eat on their plates.
I gave thanks to God’s grace
that cold, indifferent Fate’s
bony fingers had not touched on me
and I wept for my friends
of the Mary Celeste
who would never
come home from the sea.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
We were pirates then
dueling swords of picket wood
on summer days when backyard pools
were Caribbean seas
We swung from frayed and creaking rope
tethered to the stolid limbs of shadegiving trees
plundering the ships we made from cardboard
and splintered pinewood crates
We laid siege to sandbox fortresses
with cannon fire from garden hoses
muzzled by the ends of our thumbs
Our shipmates were the tabby cats
and german shepherds we dressed
in tattered sheets pillaged from
lines strewn across the lawn
and patches held by rubber bands
covering bewildered eyes
We were pirates then
dueling swords of picket wood
on summer days we buried
in coves hidden along straits
we marked on weathered maps
Surviving still and sometimes found
in the darkest corners of the night
and the cloudless wonder of the day
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
The sea calls my name and I obey.
As I walk the deck feeling the wooden planks beneath my feet,
I am at peace.
The rigging hangs from above,
The sails billow in the wind.
Far above my head, I see the look out,
Perched in the crows nest,
Ready to give the alarm
of another ship, or storm, or land
on the horizon,
I am home.
Though shipmates scurry around me
I am alone
Alone with my love;
The waves beating against the hull,
The smell of the salt air,
The gentle sway of the ship,
The songs of gulls flying nearby.
This is our dance
Our Song
I am home.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
True Faith and Allegiance
A retired admiral peddles insurance to
“My fellow veterans,” still ripping off
The enlisted with bogus bonhomie
About how they all were merry shipmates
Retired generals ooze into something new
Suits for the business of dealing in souls
Souls bought and sold internationally
Where careless talk could cost discreet kickbacks
The surviving enlisted, wounded and sick,
Are doled out vouchers for a bus ride home
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC
Magnus sat in the ship
reciting psalms
arrows flying about
Magnus shipmates
thought Magnus
mad
Magnus stated he had no quarrel
And years later on the Orkneys
Magnus bowed his head
to his
Master of Peace.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
I am thankful for the parents
who sparked my life...
and grateful they gave me up.
I'm happy for the people who adopted me,
and who they were.
I'm blessed that they taught me
a love for reading,
and encouraged my interests.
They never denied or belittled
a single one.
I am honored that the bullies at school
targeted me for their hostility.
They taught me
tolerance and compassion.
As for the teachers
who took me by the hand
and gave me the tools to think for myself...
thank you.
Now for the girl who took my virginity,
a smile and a kiss.
For the drill instructor
who yelled himself hoarse at me...
he gave me forbearance.
As for my shipmates,
they taught me how to work with others,
and made me strong.
Thanks to the girls
in the waterfront bars
who kept me warm at night,
they taught me passion.
To my late wife...what can I say?
You gave me the gift of your love
and the freedom to return it tenfold.
You made a man of me.
I'm proud I loved you
and that it was no other.
To my step kids...
to hell with the step;
I raised you as much as your dad did,
and I am honored to have done so.
To all of those who've touched my life
both good and bad;
you are part of me now...
until my life,
dissipates with a sigh.
Each one of you has shaped
and molded me into who I am.
I couldn't be me now
without every one of you...
thank you.
Jun 7, 2010
Jun 7, 2010 at 8:24 AM UTC
"It’s time for more scorchmarks on the page,
As the Dragon of Eire takes to the stage,
Hear the page rip,under my claws,
Bending reality,shaping the laws,
Time and space switch place at my hest,
Best come clean kid,make a clean breast of it,
Skitz-rips opponents to bits-torn asunder,
Lightning flashes from my claws-Steal thunder
Is heard as I trumpet my triumph to the skies,
Your Nemesis approaches-close your eyes,
Now a hush falls over the crowd like a shroud,
You’re crestfallen-Sandman stands proud…
Roam your dreams,as the judgment shapes,
eyes agog while your heads agape
Draped and soiled,more lambs to the slaughter,
Hear that laughter,lock up your daughters-
From the harbors of Dubh Linn I set sail,
Grim forecasts of the howling Gael,
Are passed to your shipmates word of mouth,
Eyes sealed up-tongues torn out.
Drift down to the seabed more lost souls
Mourn and wail as I lose control,
Of the beast that that prowls from stern to prow,
Some try to repel but soon stand cowed,
As the captain begs for his wretched breath,
Claws pierce his hide with the stroke of death,
10,000 lashes take a grisly toll,
As the ferryman casts his net behold!-
Grim spectres gold scepters lost chapters,
Fever dreams trapped in dreamcatchers-
All behold the lucid waves break,
as The Nemesis sails and leaves a crimson wake…"
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
Sing me a song of a sailor gone wrong and I'll show you a song of the sea, where pirates walk planks with no thanks to the skipper, a crew full of cutthroats, Jack tars, jack the ripper and grog for the boys who sail wild on the main to nail them rich galleons, poor Philip of Spain.
Sing a song to me, sing me terror on the high sea and we'll all fall at Newgate, we'll swing for these crimes but these are the times of our lives.
Sing me a song of a sailor gone wrong and I'll sing you a song about me.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
For Rod McKuen
The gentle singer of our youth has died
The poet of empty Sunday afternoons
And solitary strolls through Balboa Park
Among lovers and Frisbee-chasing dogs
Of laughing with shipmates while cleaning rifles
Because we knew more than the armorer
About dreaming away from learning war
About pretty girls laughing in the sun
And a chansonnier in sweater, sneaks, and jeans:
The gentle singer of our youth has died
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:59 AM UTC
From 2015 - for Rod McKuen
The gentle singer of our youth has died
The poet of empty Sunday afternoons
And solitary strolls through Balboa Park
Among lovers and Frisbee-chasing dogs
Of laughing with shipmates while cleaning rifles
Because we knew more than the armorer
About dreaming away from learning war
About pretty girls laughing in the sun
And a chansonnier in sweater, sneaks, and jeans:
The gentle singer of our youth has died
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
Ahoy shipmates!
For we are all ****** navigating
the tumultuous seas of change.
We ride waves
in storms of ascension
In sunny weather,
inside the mysterious unknown.
Avast Ye!
For compasses are in heart
and sails become like dancing feet
that wave for balance.
We anchor winds
to cleanse thoughts that
rock human vessel.
Ahoy matey!
For our skills are now tested
to pass tides of time as we awake.
We are, the pirates who sail in life's journey
so Keep a weather eye open matey,
and all will be well.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
Remember every dream
hold on all your hopes
bless the day you were born
worship in light and goodness
Let fly the sails of wonder
as you drift though the oceans of dreams
sail fast to the wind
and with fortitude overcome every storm
See the sky alight with stars
stand with me, watch the comets go by
stay strong and have a heart so true
as I do call you shipmates and part of this crew
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
My heart was full of joy that night; I’d just received good news:
I’d learned that my request for flight training had been approved.
That night was warm and the sweet scent of flowers filled the air.
As we sat in the Bloch arena, Navy bands for battle did prepare.
Bands from the Tennessee, the Pennsylvania and the Argonne played.
and no one in that audience gave a thought to an air raid.
Pearl Harbor was too shallow for torpedo planes to strike.
Or so we had been told and did believe till morning’s light
I’d had an ice cold beer (or two) to celebrate my good news.
My shipmates from Arizona sat beside me in the pews.
Our ship’s band was believed to be the finest in the fleet.
The surviving band tonight would be the foe they had to beat.
The golden sun had long since set in the Pacific sea.
Perhaps that was a harbinger of what was yet to be.
In just a few short hours hence did hell on earth arrive.
Though I was thrown from the burning deck, no band members survived.
The Arizona sank so fast; Eleven hundred died.
I watched from the oil-slicked water as their second wave arrived.
This was the day of infamy that entered into lore.
The last sweet strains of peace had been played the night before.
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 10:57 AM UTC
it’s all deadlines
and downtime
i’m trying to
keep my head
above waters of
“just following up”
keep from inhaling
gallons of
“sorry for the
late response”
don’t let the
anchor of
“limited
administrative
capacities”
pull me under
but i’m drowning
in deadlines
and choking
on downtime
there aren’t
enough hours
in the day
or hours in the night
it's all very vague
a kind of abstract
glimmer on the horizon
deadline
and then it's all
very obvious
giant blue swaths of
foaming
oceanic
downtime
one or
the other
in tandem
together
my shipmates
didn't sign
back on for
this run
so i'm alone
trying to keep
this thing
afloat
but i'm not
the captain
or even the
first mate
i'm just a
privateer
pulled off
the streets
but i’m drowning
in deadlines
and choking
on downtime
Apr 30, 2023
Apr 30, 2023 at 4:21 PM UTC