"spinnaker" poems - Hello Poetry

the wind has caught up to us once again, billowing around the spinnaker as she dips the helm ten degrees starboard. we've reached six knots, a nautical dilemma when the cat's paws signal the departure of a strong gust. she rides the wind-waves, a natural captain, she is, as we continue on home.

0

Jul 4, 2011

Jul 4, 2011 at 8:29 PM UTC

noel-irion

my captain

the wind has caught up to us once again, billowing around the spinnaker as she dips the helm ten degrees starboard. we've reached six knots, a nautical dilemma when the cat's paws signal the departure of a strong gust. she rides the wind-waves, a natural captain, she is, as we continue on home.

9

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

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Oct 8, 2014

Oct 8, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC

tammy-boehm

Bella Donna Requiem

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

32

The sky was a smudge-coloured blue up there When the sailing ship came in, With full top gallants and spinnaker flared Full flight from a world of sin, The mermaid carved on her prow was proud As she breasted the salt-licked spray, Her hair a-stream, as the waves she ploughed And surged to Ascension Bay. I’d watched her approach from the Sailor’s Rest That lay way up on the cliff, ‘It isn’t a question of when,’ he’d said, ‘Nor even a question of if! The ghost of ‘The Falls of Borrowdale’ Comes in with a clear blue sky, It happens but once a year,’ he’d said ‘On the twenty-fifth of July!’ I’d laughed at him in the ‘Admiral’s Arms’ As he swallowed his seventh ale, While others listened with frightened eyes Each face was a shade of pale, ‘You’ll see it best from the Sailor’s Rest, That ruin, up on the cliff, But don’t get caught by the devil’s cohort Swarming up from the ship.’ They’d scaled the cliff to the Sailor’s Rest, I knew the story of old, Had slain the crew of the ‘Captain Teck’, Or so it was always told, They’d left the ‘Rest’ in a sea of flames For the sake of an ancient feud, While ‘The Falls of Borrowdale’ lay wrecked By the mutineers that crewed. They’d seized young Molly, the serving girl Who’d worked at the Sailor’s Rest, Had pulled her hair and had pinned her down, Exposed the girl at the breast, They took their pleasure and dragged her out To the edge of the cliff, and pale, Then flung her screaming down to the deck Of ‘The Falls of Borrowdale’. And so it was that I lay with the glass So firmly fixed to my eye, Up on the cliff by the Sailor’s Rest On the twenty-fifth of July, The ghostly ship flew into the shore Under a mass of sail, No sign of the crew, no lookout stood On watch at the forward rail. The ship ground up on the Daley Rocks Rose shrieking, up in the air, Her timbers creaking and groaning with The mermaid’s look of despair, The crew poured out of the lower decks And flung themselves overboard, These phantoms, straight from the devil’s lair To put good men to the sword. I ran some way from the Sailor’s Rest Lay under a bush, and hid, I didn’t know what to do for the best But watched, to see what they did, They swarmed all over the Sailor’s Rest Put everyone to the sword, Then dragged poor Molly out on the grass And I cried, ‘Please stop them, Lord!’ Then the phantoms stopped as they heard my cry And they turned, each black as sin, Molly let out a quivering sigh And they burst in flames, within, She stood alone at the edge of the cliff And she waved, no longer pale, While the mermaid smiled on the prow of the ship, ‘The Falls of Borrowdale.’ David Lewis Paget

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Dec 22, 2013

Dec 22, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC

david-lewis-paget

The Falls of Borrowdale

The sky was a smudge-coloured blue up there When the sailing ship came in, With full top gallants and spinnaker flared Full flight from a world of sin, The mermaid carved on her prow was proud As she breasted the salt-licked spray, Her hair a-stream, as the waves she ploughed And surged to Ascension Bay. I’d watched her approach from the Sailor’s Rest That lay way up on the cliff, ‘It isn’t a question of when,’ he’d said, ‘Nor even a question of if! The ghost of ‘The Falls of Borrowdale’ Comes in with a clear blue sky, It happens but once a year,’ he’d said ‘On the twenty-fifth of July!’ I’d laughed at him in the ‘Admiral’s Arms’ As he swallowed his seventh ale, While others listened with frightened eyes Each face was a shade of pale, ‘You’ll see it best from the Sailor’s Rest, That ruin, up on the cliff, But don’t get caught by the devil’s cohort Swarming up from the ship.’ They’d scaled the cliff to the Sailor’s Rest, I knew the story of old, Had slain the crew of the ‘Captain Teck’, Or so it was always told, They’d left the ‘Rest’ in a sea of flames For the sake of an ancient feud, While ‘The Falls of Borrowdale’ lay wrecked By the mutineers that crewed. They’d seized young Molly, the serving girl Who’d worked at the Sailor’s Rest, Had pulled her hair and had pinned her down, Exposed the girl at the breast, They took their pleasure and dragged her out To the edge of the cliff, and pale, Then flung her screaming down to the deck Of ‘The Falls of Borrowdale’. And so it was that I lay with the glass So firmly fixed to my eye, Up on the cliff by the Sailor’s Rest On the twenty-fifth of July, The ghostly ship flew into the shore Under a mass of sail, No sign of the crew, no lookout stood On watch at the forward rail. The ship ground up on the Daley Rocks Rose shrieking, up in the air, Her timbers creaking and groaning with The mermaid’s look of despair, The crew poured out of the lower decks And flung themselves overboard, These phantoms, straight from the devil’s lair To put good men to the sword. I ran some way from the Sailor’s Rest Lay under a bush, and hid, I didn’t know what to do for the best But watched, to see what they did, They swarmed all over the Sailor’s Rest Put everyone to the sword, Then dragged poor Molly out on the grass And I cried, ‘Please stop them, Lord!’ Then the phantoms stopped as they heard my cry And they turned, each black as sin, Molly let out a quivering sigh And they burst in flames, within, She stood alone at the edge of the cliff And she waved, no longer pale, While the mermaid smiled on the prow of the ship, ‘The Falls of Borrowdale.’ David Lewis Paget

73

Ah , those waterfront alley cats Full of scars and paws Fip Flip Flip , go the blades Around the Heart's hub As transon's go , they do Take a beating in the ruff And your spinnaker flurls To the magic winds of The long lost voice of midnight No need to tack All is "Flying" And the Sphinx Is smiling in silence

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May 26, 2015

May 26, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC

South-by-Southwest

Kiss Me , I Won't Tell

Ah , those waterfront alley cats Full of scars and paws Fip Flip Flip , go the blades Around the Heart's hub As transon's go , they do Take a beating in the ruff And your spinnaker flurls To the magic winds of The long lost voice of midnight No need to tack All is "Flying" And the Sphinx Is smiling in silence

13

You know how you have one of those days at work where time is crawling by and you want nothing more than for the day to be over and it feels excruciating? But then you put your nose to the grindstone and just slug it out. And you do not stop until the end of the day. That is how I feel today, only I have different work to do. And the work I have to do is like that project you put off because you just do not want to do it. It is that file you put on the bottom of everything and just hope it will resolve itself. But you know it will not. Every day you pick up that file thinking today may be the day you will get started. But you do not. You have questions about some of the material in the file, you are not sure what to do, and you are unable to complete the project because there is nobody around to answer your questions. You have left several messages for her, the woman who was supposed to answer your questions, but she has not called you back. And now you are angry because you need guidance! You need her help you, you cannot do it on your own! But it has been too long now. She is not going to call you back...she is not going to give you the directions you need to complete this project. You know that you are on your own now. That is how I feel right now. The file before me is filled with my life, my past, and my painful memories. It contains my feelings of shame, sadness, anger…hopelessness and worthlessness. The project is to take each page and fit it together like a puzzle…and once the puzzle is together, the project will be complete and I will be whole. But I do not know where to start. I am lost. I feel like a ship without a rudder. A sailboat without a spinnaker. I am a tourist without a guide. I am a lost child without her mother... alone and frightened. I am crying…but she can no longer hear me.

0

Jul 29, 2014

Jul 29, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC

nitaann

I am crying...but nobody hears me...

You know how you have one of those days at work where time is crawling by and you want nothing more than for the day to be over and it feels excruciating? But then you put your nose to the grindstone and just slug it out. And you do not stop until the end of the day. That is how I feel today, only I have different work to do. And the work I have to do is like that project you put off because you just do not want to do it. It is that file you put on the bottom of everything and just hope it will resolve itself. But you know it will not. Every day you pick up that file thinking today may be the day you will get started. But you do not. You have questions about some of the material in the file, you are not sure what to do, and you are unable to complete the project because there is nobody around to answer your questions. You have left several messages for her, the woman who was supposed to answer your questions, but she has not called you back. And now you are angry because you need guidance! You need her help you, you cannot do it on your own! But it has been too long now. She is not going to call you back...she is not going to give you the directions you need to complete this project. You know that you are on your own now. That is how I feel right now. The file before me is filled with my life, my past, and my painful memories. It contains my feelings of shame, sadness, anger…hopelessness and worthlessness. The project is to take each page and fit it together like a puzzle…and once the puzzle is together, the project will be complete and I will be whole. But I do not know where to start. I am lost. I feel like a ship without a rudder. A sailboat without a spinnaker. I am a tourist without a guide. I am a lost child without her mother... alone and frightened. I am crying…but she can no longer hear me.

10

There’s been so much bad luck Blowing in the gales of life, The sails of my happiness are Tattered and won’t hold the wind. Life has long been such a heavy load My little boat is listing And it needs to be rebalanced. I have stores of ballast, so My little craft won’t sink. My twisted fingers still can hold A needle to mend the spinnaker. The tiller isn’t broken and The rudder still steers true. I can see the distant shore And the tide is lifting me. Soon I will make landfall and be safe ljm

0

Aug 17, 2018

Aug 17, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC

LoriJonesMcCaffery

LANDFALL

There’s been so much bad luck Blowing in the gales of life, The sails of my happiness are Tattered and won’t hold the wind. Life has long been such a heavy load My little boat is listing And it needs to be rebalanced. I have stores of ballast, so My little craft won’t sink. My twisted fingers still can hold A needle to mend the spinnaker. The tiller isn’t broken and The rudder still steers true. I can see the distant shore And the tide is lifting me. Soon I will make landfall and be safe ljm

17

One minute moment of I’m OK A razors edge of lingering doubt A use by date written for me This attempt will be the last Wondering of the peel and reveal Resilience, bouncing back again I will know for sure this time around No more talk of Thelma and Louise I will exit stage right, walk away Unmoved by breath of your words Travel together spinnaker set Or gybe away, set our own course

0

Dec 6, 2016

Dec 6, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC

robert-jaensch

Horse and Carriage

One minute moment of I’m OK A razors edge of lingering doubt A use by date written for me This attempt will be the last Wondering of the peel and reveal Resilience, bouncing back again I will know for sure this time around No more talk of Thelma and Louise I will exit stage right, walk away Unmoved by breath of your words Travel together spinnaker set Or gybe away, set our own course

12

Shingle shook, these bookish handles cove your head in herringbone, It's sewn into our standard-issue, dangled under spinnaker Here, you and I will come to terms the terms of our endearment a curvature of earthliness, in miniature exemplified the surfeit of our inadvertent vertebrae declined toward the wave

0

Aug 27, 2021

Aug 27, 2021 at 12:46 AM UTC

alistair-william-bullen

Sea-shanti

Shingle shook, these bookish handles cove your head in herringbone, It's sewn into our standard-issue, dangled under spinnaker Here, you and I will come to terms the terms of our endearment a curvature of earthliness, in miniature exemplified the surfeit of our inadvertent vertebrae declined toward the wave

16

Take a moment once in a while, to pause to breath reflect and smile. Let’s all stand tall with respect and pride. And make Portsmouth’s Hero Lord Nelson proud as he watchers his beautiful city smile. Take my hands and let’s climb up the spinnaker tower, Think happy thoughts and look around.Thank you to Portsmouth City for welcoming me me into this amazing town. Take a run down the sea front pass Clarence pier. Feel the sun on your face your feet on the ground. Count the stars and examine the sky. Catch the rain and watch the birds fly. Make something from silence let words lift your soul, and explore every sweet bit of your beautiful soul. My life cuddles destiny and bought me to this place where I was meant to be. The Gloves on my hands meditating in this boxing ring, my future whispering to my thoughts as I think. Determination and hard work early morning starts. I will start from the bottom and work my way to the top. Heart beating fast many emotions trying to get out. My thoughts whispering to me. Float like a Butterfly sting like a Bee” for you are a champion a role model the world needs to see. Inspired by the greats~ Lord Nelson- Mohamed Ali. So follow your dreams and never give up, and always work hard, your day will arrive at the right time. Remember your stars always shining to bright up the night. JidosReality 5.10.17

0

Nov 2, 2017

Nov 2, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC

jidosreality

Three Hero’s One Story

Take a moment once in a while, to pause to breath reflect and smile. Let’s all stand tall with respect and pride. And make Portsmouth’s Hero Lord Nelson proud as he watchers his beautiful city smile. Take my hands and let’s climb up the spinnaker tower, Think happy thoughts and look around.Thank you to Portsmouth City for welcoming me me into this amazing town. Take a run down the sea front pass Clarence pier. Feel the sun on your face your feet on the ground. Count the stars and examine the sky. Catch the rain and watch the birds fly. Make something from silence let words lift your soul, and explore every sweet bit of your beautiful soul. My life cuddles destiny and bought me to this place where I was meant to be. The Gloves on my hands meditating in this boxing ring, my future whispering to my thoughts as I think. Determination and hard work early morning starts. I will start from the bottom and work my way to the top. Heart beating fast many emotions trying to get out. My thoughts whispering to me. Float like a Butterfly sting like a Bee” for you are a champion a role model the world needs to see. Inspired by the greats~ Lord Nelson- Mohamed Ali. So follow your dreams and never give up, and always work hard, your day will arrive at the right time. Remember your stars always shining to bright up the night. JidosReality 5.10.17

9

*A Prayer in the Storm By Jude Kyrie You are new unblemished from all of life’s torrents. Your sweet eyes absorbing your new world. Like an astronaut landing upon a strange planet. Full of wonder bemusement Fears and joys. The storm outside builds on the wild prairie. Thunder roars in the distance. Your window open lace curtains billowing like a spinnaker. The cold front fills the room As I hold your tiny body to me. Your mouth milk soured Your soul singing in innocence. I feel the need to protect you From the storm now and those to come in your life ahead. The ones which will tear at your heart. breaking it in two. I feel the shame of the waste of my own life. And turn your face from it. I say a prayer of favour to the heavens And speak it out loud for you. To enter into your heart never to forget this blood earned lesson. Live with joy in your soul My angel And never leave those things that I have left undone.*

0

Aug 27, 2015

Aug 27, 2015 at 5:39 PM UTC

jude-kyrie

A prayer in the storm..for a new child

*A Prayer in the Storm By Jude Kyrie You are new unblemished from all of life’s torrents. Your sweet eyes absorbing your new world. Like an astronaut landing upon a strange planet. Full of wonder bemusement Fears and joys. The storm outside builds on the wild prairie. Thunder roars in the distance. Your window open lace curtains billowing like a spinnaker. The cold front fills the room As I hold your tiny body to me. Your mouth milk soured Your soul singing in innocence. I feel the need to protect you From the storm now and those to come in your life ahead. The ones which will tear at your heart. breaking it in two. I feel the shame of the waste of my own life. And turn your face from it. I say a prayer of favour to the heavens And speak it out loud for you. To enter into your heart never to forget this blood earned lesson. Live with joy in your soul My angel And never leave those things that I have left undone.*

46