"tugboat" poems
At four, you took my hand and pulled me to your bed,
your small form cuddling, curling, you urgently said,
"Tell me… tell me a story! Story, make it long",
I began to tell the story, the story of when you were born:
Drums and bugles, bubbles and balloons,
somersaulting clowns and calliope tunes,
you came out to meet them, on the day that you were born,
and they were there to greet you, through a January storm.
Lions and gorillas marched to military airs,
snowmen and snowwomen danced without a spring time care,
somewhere in the harbor, a tugboat played a note,
and all the while you smiled a smile, upon a birthday float.
Just like a circus troupe, we formed a great parade,
and sauntered to the birthing bed where your mother lay,
she picked you up, she held you, as close as close can be,
her hand in mine, she softly said, “Now... we are three.”
Copyright © 2003 Gary Brocks
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
They said be careful
what you wish for
but all I asked was
the stars and then
the sky
you once said that
it was all mine to take
you said love is like
a day you wanted to break
for me
talk was never your forte
yet you were always
like the sound of thunder
on a stormy sea
and I was a tugboat
wandering
too shallow in the sea
but too far from home
sometimes I could almost
feel your mouth
shape the words
I love you
even though all I hear
is you saying
goodbye
like you found the good in it
like how it was always
the subsitute for
our brass silence
I feel like I could almost
catch the falling rain
and then I realized
that at some point
dusk looks exactly
the same as dawn.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Teabag tugboat trashbag t bone tebow
*****
n I don't like him
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 10:41 PM UTC
She hates the city
Say street lamps
Are too cold
For marshmallows,
Too far apart
For hammocks
And a little too yellow
For stars.
She loves daisies
Especially when they're alive
And drinks sunshine
Like it's a fireball
Bottle at a bachelor party
She
Has got a body.
Like a Lego fire walk
That I can't help but
Move across
Slowly,
On the parts of her
Past that build us
Omnicolored castles
Of Kings and Queens
And treasure chests
Too small to hold anything
Outside our own imagination
And I,
Her ready loyal Knight
With nothing but
A dull promise
On the edge of my tongue
Laying my rusty faith
At her feet keep
Moving
Like my eyes
Across a line
Across a line
Across a line
That I never
Want to stop
Reading
Her edges
With my fingertips
Like the map
To my home
And her lips
The closest thing
I've got to
A key
But she
Is not the type
That needs a night
To see the stars
And I
Am not the type
To write poems
From fireflies
That I never learned
To let go
'Cause I know my life
Has seen enough jars
Of my amputated parts
To know you don't have
To be broken to be used
To picking up the pieces.
But baby break me.
Like a firefighter
With a family of four
Who knows the risks.
With your arms
'Round my fists
The only chance I've got
Of making it out alive.
So baby hold me
Like a papier mâché
Tugboat from articles
Of my past that I no longer
Want to pull.
And my plaster heart
Heavy,
Ready to be made
Into something new
With my hands full of skipping stones
I no longer have the stomach read
'Cause I don't wanna leave her life
Without being buried somewhere beneath.
But I don't wanna dig too deep
Before I figure out just how to breathe.
So every time she leaves,
I wear my teeth
On her scent
Ribs bent
In the direction
Of her return.
For the first time
In a long while
I've got a fire in me.
And this time,
I'm gonna let it burn.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
The volition of Augusta planter and blacksmith ..
Elberton Pulp-wooder and Quarryman .. The song of the steam fired engine , back breaking labor of Tifton Sharecropper and Atlanta Iron -worker ..
To the heat lightning of the humid Georgia night , the cold rain of
November , the unsure , bitter turbulent shrieking winds of March ..
The first turn of the Albany Ploughman , to the evening whistle of Macon Factory worker . To dawns horizon goes the Brunswick Shrimper , to the honor of Cattleman and Savannah Tugboat tender ...
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
I don't wanna stay at your party
I don't wanna talk to your friends
I don't wanna vote for your president
I just wanna be your tugboat captain
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
Here I am again,
Confessing the sins of my father manifested in a broken crown prince cracked over kingdoms falling from his tall walls to the rust and the moths before plunging on his polyester floorboard swords,
Yes,
Confessing these things to the carpet strands,
Tidal tales of the waves crashing ghost ships against my chest,
The strength of my youth is spent as a suburban castaway staring through the bars of my island cage built for birds without a voice,
There is an ocean between us,
And I do not know how to swim,
And I see no sign of my tugboat friends,
And I do not have any life saving self crafted defensive mechanical preservation devices to float through my insecurities with,
I am Icarus against a sun setting on these sleeping house that my feather wax weathered oars seem to snap against,
Dimmer days,
Shimmering street lights grab the dusk from the sky,
It is projected upon my midnight eyes,
Dead eyes,
I,
I could cling to these bones but,
They sleep below the earth,
And I stand before the sea,
Do you see me,
Oh God,
You have watched my wells grow dry,
I have set all of my hope on men,
And to you,
I come carrying this broken crown,
Can you hold my hands,
When it is filled with these,
Can you pull me from the water which folds over me
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
I just wanted to be
your tugboat captain,
your name engraved
on the hull, my name
enmeshed with your
skull.
Dance around in your tutu,
yes, suspended on one toe,
yes, now slip it off &
crawl into the bath.
I just wanted to be
your tugboat captain,
your skin wrapped
around the mast, your
skeleton draped upon
the shaft.
Look up at me with blue eyes, yes,
open up your pink mouth, yes,
now steer with your feet &
take us to the mainland.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
Your name sits on the tip of my tongue,
Along with bitter aberrations
Of love and loathing.
Your name commingles in my veins,
And tips my stomach
Like a tugboat in a hurricane.
In the years I have grown,
I have been shown the difference
Between the good and the bad.
I exhausted the arms on the clock
Arranging daisies of adoration
In the souls of those who were rotten.
Even the one I thought was impeccable
Has placed me on a shelf of old seashells
And bottled ships.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
So lethargic
Victim of calumny
Ruptured appendix
Constantly rebuked
On the pursuit of happiness
Receiving flack
So pusillanimous
Looking for something cathartic
Fight with yourself
When your're your own worst enemy
Leaving everyone scratching their heads
And hanging on every word
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
First impressions are my worst impressions
Bad decisions and fallen angels
Pedantic stipulations
Derogatory semantics
Fight with yourself
When your're your own worst enemy
Leaving everyone scratching their heads
And hanging on every word
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
Review the glossary
Check the index
It's a lost cause
The cut throat is fighting
The masked wrestler on a tugboat
They're both wearing Hawaiian shirts
Fight with yourself
When your're your own worst enemy
Leaving everyone scratching their heads
And hanging on every word
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
-Tommy Johnson
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
Sensual
Rings
Still alive
Wet with hot water
I. Cried
Like
A dream
I
Can't
Can't remember.
Why
But. I
Know
Was
There.
Only forgotten when I Live L O N G
&
Wide. Open
Containing nothing
A
Pillowcase
Full
Of yawns
Or me becoming a recording of myself
The Tugboat
A. D. T. E. O. E. N
N. H. C. A
Of drugs
And wrinkled clothes
That never killed me so much
As
Expectation
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
Sand slaps against my feet
With the echoes of the
Footprints that I left before
The hollow ring of the
Departing tide
Reverberates through my toes
The constant steely water
Always comes
But never really goes
Is there anything more beautiful than a tugboat?
Earth and sea
Swallow me
And I am home
This place makes me a mermaid
Magic in the sea salt
Returns me to my childhood
Who can resist the trumpet call
Of a castle in the sand?
I hear laughter on these shores
In the waves
Hidden in cool, splashing bubbles
When I disturb the mighty rock fortresses
Of the scrabbling water bugs
I fell in love on this beach
A veil of sea **** awaits me
And I will carry a bouquet of
Sky and Salt
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 3:56 AM UTC
Seagoat,
Let me die in your tugboat,
Burn me in your deep waters.
I hate, and that's all that matters
Your jokes, jump in a frenzy,
Around the giving tree,
We turned into a stump
Is "good luck" to wish it exists,
Or to wish that I did not,
Or that it does,
And I am entitled to your superstition
Seagoat,
Tug me in your tugboat,
Burn me in your deep waters,
I love.
I am the shallow martyr.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
A lonely red tugboat anchored at the Hudson River
The Red tugboat in its day would pull some very lavish cruise ships
But here’s a tip
Back in the day, there were stories Sea Captains would say
For starters, the red tugboat having the engine power to pull ships and barches
But as years rolled on, tugboats became a new wave of technology
As you probably gathered, the red tugboat became out of date
Later it gathered dust with no captain nor mate
But things are about to change
A new criteria that will be arranged
The Red tugboat had a new technological engine
This was a reason for the tugboat to feel useful and have fusion
The Red tugboat ropes were thrown over to the deck
It moved from being idled like mothballs
A cruise ship that was travelling from New York Harbor to London, England and the red tugboat was assigned to the call
The tugboat regained its life from being in a stall
But the red tugboat returned with its legacy and it stood tall
A new and improved red tugboat with its sea legs to be proud to be on the Hudson River
All the Red Tugboat needed was a push of confidence
It later became inspiration being the indication
The Red tugboat knows where it belongs
It’s heritage of accomplishments that was so long.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
on a cool morning
i meandered by the shore
the crisp salt air was pungent
as the first rays touched the bay
with dazzling reflections
the deep thrum of a tugboat
sounded across the inlet
from within a low fogbank
and ravens clacked and cackled
high up in the dark forest
beneath the steep, sawtooth peaks
i stopped then and looking down
saw small brown ***** scuttling
across the shell littered beach
fleeing a giant
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
(a little radiosonde launched by weather balloon from Texas A & M in Bryan-College Station)
There is perhaps a certain indignity
In grounding back on earth among some weeds
Your late balloon a fragment of itself
Your parachute all damp and limp and still
But, oh! what an adventure you have lived!
Scuffy the Tugboat might well envy you
Your day and night in scientific flight
With helium instead of pixie dust
Like Peter Pan you sailed along the wind
Straight on until morning, then home again
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
The secret life of
mack the knife
his teeth shined a pearly white
they glistened like fallen snow
his smile would melt the ladies hearts
and leave them feeling aglow
but when he chose to leave his bite
the smile turned to a snear
Louie called said I'll see you at the club
yeah Mack meet in the rear
he was a banker by the daylight
a vicious killer in the night
he always thought that he would
find time to make things right
he left his victims on the sidewalk
or a tugboat by the shore
their throats cut from ear to ear
the coppers going door to door
but not a single soul was talking
nobody saw anything
but they could tell by the looks
they'd be dead if they chose to sing
Louie wanted Souky Taudry whacked
he was messin with Jenny Diver
she's my girl and I ain't taking that
I'll set you up to be his driver
he wore a disguise of a chauffer
fancy coat pants and a cap
but when he took a wrong turn
Souky knew he was in for bad crap
they found him in the alley
his life oozing out on the street
his throat cut by Mack the Knife
another job had been complete
back at the bank the next morning
he was all smiles and slapping backs
nobody knew his secret life
or if they were the next one he whacks
Gomer Lepoet...
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
a toy tugboat
in an unfilled
baby pool
a dead spider
beneath it
I could talk nightly
on these-
my dreams would look for missing children
my dreams would turn to salt
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
That night my head revisited the act of combustion
Fueled by cinnamon syrup and ten dollar wine
I caught fire under a false summer sky
We stole the Holy Father from the threshold of the devil's den
Lo-fi guitars sent us spinning back in time
The three of us became the opposite of a memory
We bent the solar system with glass bottle visits to our old favorite songs
There's a place I'd like to be
Half drunk in the fluorescent lights of a college town bus
There's a place I'd be happy
Carpet dancing with a trinity of alcoholic poets
That night was beautiful and Fall and fleeting
That night is my next favorite memory
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
In addition;
The sails flapped loosely in the wind
Committed to providing it's best chance searching the sky
Things not seen below the patter of crashing waves.
Adjusting each sail
The ship rising and falling
The throb of an intrigued chest
No longer tied at Port
Anchorage at the sides
The sail snaps
Growing tighter by the moment
The breeze spraying ocean mist
Of wild waves
Untamed
Stomach stood still
The scrubbing sound of latches rattle against the pole
Paranoid that we could go overboard at any moment slicing through the rickety waves
Teddering left then right
Shaken backward and forward
Humbly seeking God's grace
Seeking strength in the midst of storm
Ranting at the sky in a boat so small
This war was you
This sea your heart
Faith to see a brighter day
Following a cracked compass
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
Nosy Knuckler, too tough
for the rugged, tugboat huffing
the mud puddle's summit.
Home-bound with that lighthouse
stumble; strapped to the grin
with a sailor's plummet.
He's white face like the page he evades; weighted down by the surplus day-to-day What's the race?
Buckle down inertia coupled
with Challenger assertion
ushers in a mind tripwire explosion
of tick-tack proportion.
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
The infernal naked night
Cascading around my eyes.
Dead locusts on the ground near the crop.
I hear her heart beat,
Then, it stops.
The dented soul leaks like a broken faucet;
Water stains on the carpet.
The fields are burning.
I wipe the soot from my eyes
As a tear rolls down her cheek.
The absent mind trolls the river
Like a tugboat with no main vessel.
Without reason
Without will
Without objective
The forests, see, they have all wilted.
The sun is eclipsing into blackness.
The circle spins on an axis,
Trapping everyone inside.
The windows are painted over.
The air conditioning is turned off.
The TV is muted.
The covers, they've run cold.
The ever thinning light
That has only ever produced a shadow,
Has robbed man of
Mother Nature's truth:
There are no hands tending a flame
At the end
Of the tunnel.
There is only I,
And no one.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 12:44 PM UTC
Where do you go?
My soul shivers when I think -
The wind blows different when the moon is low.
Like the ocean,
Long blue waves sparkle under the heat of your sun.
But cold bones shine, waxing in the dead night's glow.
Except -
Underneath the surface, there's a lot that you don't know.
Undefined.
Do you water tall grass just to watch it grow,
Out of control?
Undeniable -
You'll always be a galestorm over a tugboat.
Sometimes I wish my fins were real,
So I could finally sing the way my heart sounds
So you'd finally know what if feels like
To be trapped in your undertow.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
Dripping water
Licking my skin
Sipping sickly cells
Oh where do I begin
Moist and moldy corners
On the borders
Of my bathtub
Which I don't love
But I love being in
"Can you hear me"
"Can you hear me"
My voice echos off the walls
But the pitter patter
Of this liquid matter
Drowns out my calls
If I were a tugboat I would float
But I'm only human so I sink
When I'm on the brink
Of what I think
Will change the wistful way I wonder
And I ponder
This simple liquid matter
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
Step aboard Mate’s
Don’t worry you are on schedule and not late
This will be a day to we all can appreciate
Our adventure begins at the Ship Passenger Terminal in Bayonne, New Jersey
We will be touring aboard, “THE ROYAL CARIBBEAN ANTHEM OF THE SEAS”
Oh, since we are on deck, can you just feel that refreshing breeze
Our day starts the minute we tour aboard
A blessing with an accord
Now this a cruise passenger ship, and we should not be bored
It’s a day on the ship in still water
Then lunch included aboard, and touring more all in that order
A day of nothing but fun fun fun
A full day of a tour group among
But wait, we are not done
I just asked the Captain to call for a tugboat
No SOS
But I do have a confess
Since I am on a Passenger Cruise Ship, I want to go to Bermuda
However, I know I didn’t pack a suitcase
I am on a cruise ship and why should I waste
I would buy clothes on the ship
Well until then
One day I will really travel on a passenger cruise ship
My encouragement was my tip
So long for now
A dream come true one day with a Wow.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC