~ATLANTIS~ Featuring:) Kelly Deschler
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time'
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by Engineers and Architects whom loved power more than the Gods
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories,
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of The Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic Waves
A magical island held down by the hands of death,
Atlantis lost city walls ---a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
-Listen to PLATO'S voice-
"Look close, Look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast
ATLANTIS THE PARADISE
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
~ Injustice Moon Among Us ~
deeper than twilight
the moon to moon afterglow
a wave crush the mood
Two face under water
(Senryu of Being Misjudged)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
There Be Dragons
In that place where the Earth meets the sky
Where magic reigns with myth
There dwell, yet still, great dragons that fly
Blue unicorn and gryph...
Fantastical creatures cloaked in time
An epic testament
Where the Zepher lifts the fae--sublime
No longer reticent--
Beware! The splenetic Nebulous
Who guards the minutes there
Her exquisite mass is ravenous--
No jot or tittle fare!
Do some planning should you gallivant...
The fae will help you see,
Lilly, Lilac, Aster,Skull--enchant
With such simplicity!
By the Willow Bliss of Yesterday
You just may want to quit...
But don't let your vigor ricochet
Cherish your kismet!
Delight the dragon and get a wish
Show some humility
But watch your heart--his favorite dish--
There be dragons in the twilight of day
Timeless and roaming free...
Seek an oasis wherever you may
And most aggressively!
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012
beneith the phantoms of the deep
a wretched grave yard where love sleeps
all but forgotten loves of time
covered in fiction, rumors and lies
decay did whither their werry bones
and unrest bothered their hearts left alone
suicide and murderous mist
malace and for thought of a poisonous kiss
for each they sailed the sea of love
clear skies and ocean above
below lost vessels that once rode the sea
smothered by waters that pulled down deep
trusting the ship they begged to sail
where calm sea's often become strong gails
and tossed are sailer to and fro
from the bow to down below
suffering what they didn't know
the sea's anger and ability to show
Is there a god to which can be prayed?
where is Poseidon, can he be paid?
for safe passage through the rocks
take from us this state of shock
where every wave would cover thee
and silence prayers and every plea
certian distruction awaits this ship
being torn asunder by natures grip
thunder peels across dark skys
like a truth it is a light
but darkness denies it's pressence still
lightening cannot change the will
where fears would scare, the sailor steals
tighten the ropes secure the sails
love demands the highest price
certian risk and sacrifice
the abyss has claimed a myriad of lives
who's death for love was satisfied
sailing on the sea of love
glimpsing the phantoms from up above
a sad sanity can calm the sea
and then rage takes over and destroys what be
we cannot hide from love what love see's
the bigger the ocean the deeper the sea
the deeper the love the bigger the greif
no matter who or what they be
the ship is the hostage of the sea
you can sink in it's depths or to its shore flee
there is always a risk when you tempt the sea
and there is always a grave waiting for thee
Copyright © John Loving III | Year Posted 2014
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2012
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 seamen went unwarned
Down below, inside their cabins the seamen 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 seamen thrust
Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out
When the seamen heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt
“Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared
“Alive! Awake… all ye’ seaman come quickly up on board”!
The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear
While the brave captain fought - loyal seaman 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 seaman 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 seamen and their brave Captain Noe
Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
Copyright © anne p. murray | Year Posted 2012
Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway
to the sea.
Onwards to the village,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
I venture down
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
Climbing an incline,
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.
I reach a stile,
entrance to the woods
where a carpet
of frosted red cyclamen
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
The granite hills,
soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
At the fold of day,
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night
Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2010
Well what should I write about tonight?
Should I write about what I did today?
Should I write about my shoelaces?
Should I write about doing laundry?
Or Should I write about what I'd like for breakfast tomorrow?
Maybe I should ramble about how the school day went.
Maybe I should complain about my room being dirty.
Maybe I should name off the food in my kitchen.
Or Maybe I should just talk about my hair.
I wanna talk about what I'm learning on guitar.
I wanna speak out about my inner issues.
I wanna yell a crazy rant.
I just wanna blow off some steam.
I wish I could take a bath with a girl right now.
I wish I would've finished my homework.
I wish I could shoot ice from my finger tips
I just wish I had some soda to quench my thirst.
There are so many things I could say right now!
But I just can't seem to decide.
I'd probably get some pretty weird looks
If I told you what's all bottled up inside.
I'm everywhere and nowhere in my head
Ideas and thoughts bouncing left and right.
Too bad I can't seem to think of anything.
I was really wanting to get some feelings out tonight.
Do I need to shave in the morning?
Should I go to the music store after school?
Why didn't I grab matching socks?
What does the weekend have in store?
I wish I had something to write about.
Eh, I'll think of something tomorrow night.
Copyright © Captain Dan | Year Posted 2009
The winds of the night creep in on you and they are up and about.
They surround you in the darkness and shed you into some light.
They are given and they are taken with your most silent thoughts.
They pass through your hidden fears and come from plain sight.
The winds of the night so clever and discreet they really are.
They hold no boundaries to your beginning and nor to your end.
They are warm and they are cold rising above you and reaching up from far.
They are of their own power and hold onto all claims of their own.
The winds of the night come sending a message to the unknown.
The winds of the night are aimless but when directed they drift all together.
They are dangerous when calm at night a sight not even one has really seen.
They are unsettled with no balance yet predictable by where they all concur.
They capture what is felt and heard because they’re accepted as they’re deemed.
The winds of the night come and go for they are on a lifelong mission.
They are silent within your journey for they can not be spoken to or touched.
They exist for your life bringing the world into its final rule on deception.
The winds of the night carry enough strength to lead a massive world into the unjust!
Copyright © Ann Rich | Year Posted 2009
I do not know?
Blood i seek, blood i lust,
blood i crave, blood i must!
Day has gone night is here,
eternal day thats all i fear!
Years have past seem like days,
endless night i stop to gaze.
Forever young i cant get old,
thirst for blood my skin is cold.
Born centuries ago in a far distant land,
were i fell victim to another hand!
I left my home land so long ago,
where this evil feeling did so grow!
I searched for others just like me,
i sailed the ocean across the sea.
Years went by my search was long,
looking for belief to were i belong.
It was Paris (1304)it finally came,
i think of it again and again
The night was young it was pouring with rain
She whispered in my ear that we are the same.
Enemy of man, they hunt me down,
home for now, this old town.
I hear their thoughts, i smell their fear,
most often they don't now am here.
I keep my face on that old bookshelf,
because that's the only time i see myself.
Blood i need, before sun rise,
staring through these black cold eyes
I roam the night were creatures call,
i write this now from this old town hall.
Copyright © PAUL GARDNER | Year Posted 2005
I do not know?
Tell me why doe’s the wind blow,
When it seems that almost anything can over power this boat,
The waves rise slowly and surely a storm is on its way,
A day of innocence equating beauty,
For tomorrow may fall,
And today is already gone,
I've decided that tonight is the night,
That I set love aside,
This whole time we're provoking each other in a blinding violence,
The ship rocked and I plummeted into the sea,
And you dove after me,
But now you know that I’m cold,
The mast snaps and the ship floods,
We wash up on a shore and you seek us shelter,
Crying out my name you try to resuscitate me,
Keep your hands on my chest and wait for a beat,
I'll keep your trust in my arms and pain in my feet
We will all fall in the end.
As the time to rise approaches
No one will take responsibility
So tell me why does the wind blow?
In this poem i give credit to 4 bands
for assisting me with the words
I could not find.
1.Our Last Night
2.As I Lay Dying
3.Dance Gavin Dance
4.As Blood Runs Black
I Hope you enjoyed it
Copyright © Garreth Turner | Year Posted 2009
A great tumult has occurred in the sea
agitated waves tussle and brawl in the sea
A sea, whose waters are parted,
parted by a swarming multitude of beasts, and one Great Beast
Beast, I advise you, there is a King, a Star in the Day
riding upon a white horse, Eminent and August
August and Purposed was His way
sword in hand, fetters in one
One, without uncertainly, He rode toward the sea
and with certainty His strike was dealt
Dealt, the waters were parted
by means of one blow all the beasts were smite
Smitten, all but one, the Lord of the beasts
the Daystar turned his strength to the Great Beast
The Beast, skilled and adept, was struck with one articulation
not with a song of death as its intent, but a rebuking
Rebuked, so it might not agitate the waters
fettered, so it could not provoke the sea
See now, the waters were parted
the bodies of which were two
Two parts, divided by the Daystar’s blow
one to the south and toward the north was one
One, agitated, heavy with salt, and broad as elapsed dreams
the North, tranquil and fresh. just adequate to chalice in the palms
Palms firm, the King turned His day heat to the south
and the waters evaporated, so that only pillars of salt remained
Remaining, the Daystar blessed his radiance on the North
with palms the King cupped the unsullied waters
Waters in hand He tossed them into the desiccated earth
and the waters revitalized the salted land in support of the King
And the King continued to shed light on the waters for a thousand years
for a millennium, the earth blossomed.
Blossomed for a time, a time, times five hundred times
after which, the fetters would be loosed
Copyright © Mark Pringle | Year Posted 2005
A sailor's soul has an
Only nourished by the sea
For only upon it's waves and
Is a sailor's soul set free
He prays for winds to fill his
And clear skies to chart his way
A pull of rum and cheap cigar
To finish out his day
The stories spewed, both lies
Will fade upon the seas
For until his ship, next leaves
Will his soul again be
Copyright © Terry Lowe | Year Posted 2012
The sea gathered her voice
on the crest of the waves
as dark clouds were herded
by the wind as he raved
in a symphony orchestrated
through elements of sound
composed by the air
from his drafty compound.
By the drum of the surf
on the beat of the waves
a crescendo that climbed
with the sea as she raged
while the wind as the maestro
pulled pockets of sound
from the whistles and moans
as he swept ‘cross the ground.
Soprano! cried the killdeer
Tenor! screeched the gulls
as a baritone foghorn
boomed from the hull
of a ship that swayed
drunkenly atop of the surf
staying clear of the breakers
that crashed on the turf
The ship creaked a response
as it groaned a refrain
but the deft hand of a shipwright
would keep it sustained
for he’d hewn and he’d whittled
great emblems of love
carving an angel for the figurehead
and atop the masthead, a dove.
When the wind stopped his jostling
and the sea spent her ire
the ship slipped back to its haven
of warm hearths and bright fires
where the men mused and wondered
over great tankards of ale
if the hymns and hosannas..
had been but, the wind in the sails?
Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2012
In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die,
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown,
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
Copyright © Cole Banner | Year Posted 2013
In everyone’s heart and on their minds there’s a special dream they’re trying to find. A wise old couple traveled the world in search of their unicorn dream. They came to an island in the sun then they knew their search was done. They captured a fabulous unicorn then they came home from their travels all tattered and torn they boasted of their fine treasure they had tied and bound. Then flash she set herself free with the magic of her own horn. The wise couple said “maybe it was for the best”. They knew they had been trapped for years in their own dream. Yet not to be discouraged by their last quest they set sail again to search for the best. No matter if you are one or ninety don’t hide your dreams. As sure as there is a morning star, your dreams may not be too far. It may be the love you never had. It may be the book you never wrote. It may be the song you really wanted but did not sing. Everyone has someone or something deep inside they want to have and hold and possess. Like the wise old couple keep on searching till you find your own happiness.
Copyright © craig schaber | Year Posted 2011
.One Summer Long ago
I watched idly as the wind played with white puffy clouds
The sun shining brightly against the loud blue sky
The horizon shimmered and danced
merging sea and sky into eternal romance
Islands of white ,amidst deep emerald waters ,dotted the Aegean
Stretching away into shrouds of summer haze and misty beings
Waves crashed onto golden sands of deserted beaches
Baked by the sun ,unmarked and virgin for eons
Whispering above the wind, siren songs lured weary bones to rest ,
while billowy white sails float along to the west
The great long oars sweeping along the painted faces
of warships majestically making their way among long forgotten places
Dusty footprints in the earth lead to visions of truth and purity
To tales of beasts, gods and beauty
This is the land to which I sail ,
embarked upon my epic journey of which I will regale
A young man of thirty , on a quest for adventure and tall tales
Returning to seek a necklace recounted in myths and legends
As it proclaims ,a necklace adorned thy crown o mighty queen
A pure reflection of peace and beauty ,a rare sight to be seen
Now at war they seek your pleasure
The reason behind the lust for crown and glory
And to the victor ,go the spoils
One mighty warrior took his treasure
and killed the queen as his pleasure
In drunken glory he gave the crown
to his lover to keep till he found
A reason to return for his crown
He went back to war , and died for his sins
his lover grieving went back home to her kin,
He to his lonely grave , and she accepting her fate
Tossed the necklace into the sea as her heart learned to hate
She recounted many times , written in poems
buried by sands ,lost amidst the memories of long ago
,the map and all the treasure of their war
the story of their lovers parting day
Why she tossed it so unceremoniously into the bay
Calling upon her Gods to protect and curse
her secret of jewels from her death to her rebirth
Cursed and forgotten it was said ,
The secret taken to her final bed
Generations apart, a legacy passed down in poem and song
I, the younger son, took it upon myself to undo the wrong
to recover and to keep ,the jewels hidden in the deep ,
And close the door for all time ,
this legend of diamonds ,sapphires and gold
I would not rest till I conquered my goal, my mighty quest
Copyright © jim joyce | Year Posted 2012
“He fought often and once bled in the cause of freedom, but his habits of War did not lessen in him the peaceful virtues which adorn his private life.” Doctor Benjamin Rush, signer of the Declaration
“In placing Barry at the head of the Navy I have special trust and confidence in [Commodore Barry’s] patriotism, valor, fidelity and abilities” President George Washington
Reflections by Commodore John Barry (1745-1803)
It’s been a long voyage, this life. Me, son of a poor tenement farmer, now Father of the American Navy. I feel as though I have not unpacked my trunk since I first walked aboard Uncle Nickolas’ fishing skiff back at Ballysampson, County Wexford in ‘55. Searching like a young lad does for adventure, understanding, and lust. Wanting to escape oppression and to feel worthy and alive, I left my mossy island it disappeared with the tide.
It has been a little over a year straight now back here at Strawberry Hill. I believe it’s the first time I’ve seen all the seasons change consecutively since my youth. Father, he loved the earth but for me it would be the sea. The British kicked him off his land; they planted a seed in me. Cromwell watered that seed when, “by Hook or by Crook”, he massacred me countrymen, thousands: three. My enmity towards the British and oppression took root, grew wings.
‘Boutez En Avant’ our family motto ‘strike forward’ seemed not to be ignored. So off to sea I went under my father’s brother’s oar. Cabin boy, Able Seaman then Mate, what better place to feed my soul, then blanketed in mother oceans’ wave. I made my way to the new land, up the Delaware to Phil-idel-ph-ia. Easy to be a Catholic there and many ships come in and out every day. It’s there I realized that females would carry me through day to day; ships and wives and love letters to keep me on my way.
My first Merchantman Command the schooner Barbados, for a time, the West Indies my second home, nine runs on her, she ran steady, steady as a stone. “Big John” Barry they started calling me. I stood a full foot over most. The Patty and Polly a grand one tripper, the Industry, she a good sloop. The Page was quite a plumb for a Captain as young as I. Better still the Black Prince, I set speed records on her: 237 miles dead reckoning in 24 hours, if not in the blink of an eye.
Alas, the Black Prince was an omen as well, for soon the fight would come. I’d been waiting for the time to seize freedom and avenge my people from back home. The woman that drove my heart, my dear Mary Cleary breathed no more; in ’67 I was at sea when she arrived on heaven’s shore. When brother Patrick was lost at sea on a French frigate the limey’s sunk, my rage only grew. Feeding the old roots buried but now in death this marrow renewed.
Saved from despair [by wife number two], Sarah Keen Austin, as Sally she was known. I had a home again and a dandy, steardy women to guide me, letters to see me through. Things happened quickly after the Prince it was war, and we needed a Continental Navy. “Get Big John Barry here, get him here immediately.” I oversaw the rigging and reinforced the bulwarks. I secured the powder and the canvas, the hard tack and the jerky.
They gave me the first Captain’s Commission, a fantastic brig. I took this cruiser Lexington, so strong was she, in one hour I captured the Edward, loyal to the Queen. Then the command of the Effington sprung new up from the keel. While I watched her grow, they tried to bribe me but I spurned the eye-dee of being a traitor. Instead, I did some soldiering to pass the time while she was being built. I was handpicked to work for General George Washington what a privilege and honor I had felt.
As the British descended on Phil-idel-ph-ia I would have to scuttle the Effington to save her from red hands, leaving nothing for the picking, only splinters in the sand. I fought many a valiant battle with skiff and small boats, too. Ah, the Raleigh, she was a 32-gun frigate what a beauty; I had to scuttle her too, put fire to her on the rocks but I saved two-thirds of my crew.
It was the 36 gun Alliance in ‘82 that was my favorite lass. I took metal in my body in one grand battle but persisted as my blood ran, and the colors flew through the smoke and the crunching, through the fog and the mist. After I sunk the Atlanta and the Tresspassy I gave the captain back his sword, because he was and honorable man and my lessons from the Lord. By ’83 we had beat the red coats pretty darn well but I sheared off the Sybil for good measure and had the cook ring the ships bell.
Back to a Merchantman for a while and the Asia took me to Oriental lands but my country came a calling and me, always willing to lend a hand. From President Washington in ’97 I received Commission Number One and the 42 gun Frigate the [USS United States]. Keen, thought I-this is the one. We did many a mission in her; changed many a man’s fate.
Father of the America Navy, my contemporaries call me. Now I sit on Strawberry Hill, looking down on the port. I rake leaves for my daughter, my grandson, he’s a sport. I have more time now for my association, “Charitable Captains of Ships Club”. So many sailors lost in the war, their widows and orphans need the clothes, need the grub. I get called to teach the young cadets. I guess I’m father to them all. Boutez En Avant; persist, strike up an onward, good motto for one and all.
Copyright © Stephen Barry | Year Posted 2015
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
against the western wind; he will certainly mourn Piraeus,
and with sorrow-striken eyes, he'll invoke Poseidon.
Then he'll depart carrying the long hunting horn.
The small vessel will hold out and he won't fear waves,
but he laughs at Ares--who despises all kinds of irony.
Occasional gusts soothe the skin on his noble face,
unwrinkled and unrugged. Spring water should
quench his dry tongue; it's too warm and tasteless.
Stored in a huge amphora which depicts faces
of gods and warriors engaged in warfare,
it has the same warmth of the sweat that drips
from his hot forehead that has turned red.
Ahead, wisps of fog arise--an imagery whale.
Beyond there are perils and certain delights;
thoughts of danger will perturb him, thoughts
of discovery will enthrall him. He will be experiencing
them on his voyage--what he desires is smooth sailing.
He has heard of sirens and cyclops,
of fertile valleys and fields of yellow wheat;
of buffalos that roam, of goats and sheep that bleat.
How amazed he will be to find rocks
to build the New City*on that pristine shore--
he will declare his Queen sitting in the marble throne!
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
to escape Achille's curse; he refuses to hide in the wooden horse,
he will never return to Greece. Athens and Sparta will not fight
with swords and arrows; their grand plan is to win war by deceit.
Cleverness will defeat the Trojans. Only Helena foresees the worse;
they don't heed her words--Troy will fall to the enemy.
* The New City: Neapolis ( Naples ).
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016
Arise horizons tell us what you see
Vertical rain comes on high wave conclusions adrift in mist
Fortunes waiting out on the sea for men who come in ships
So much rain came in from all directions in one instance
Sanity was questioned at a distance along with risk
Vertical rain broke portal windows with such force
Eighty mile winds crashed in as well
Distracted men at playing cards, drinking rum for fun
Now huddled in fear within the thin skin cabin
No one slept inside the dead of hour’s darkness
Troubles bounced up and down out there
Pirates in the past fumbled their rich existence down
A new crop of water warriors can be found to take their place
Doubloons are buried in dark quarter’s underwater world
Above and below deck, inundated with storm and fear
Between each plank the storm took out more men
No thick skinned seasoned soul could harness or hold on
No salty language sailor could be heard
Above the tumultuous storm
The fierce beast rolled in on angry nature’s back
With it, folding over fifty foot waves, came torrential rains
Which pounded heavy on the bow
Churned up rogue waters on the vulnerability of sea life
Nature itself turned on them in adept ferocity
In violence it flipped the ship
Showed contempt for every soul on board
With total disregard for life and limb
And complete indifference towards the sailors
The blackness, void of light, could not help these tyrannical conditions
The monstrous storm consumed more than the rain
It drank up men and drowned them
Others flew in all directions
Most of them broke necks, died before they hit the deck
Instantly killed, dragged into the cold dark depths as well
All steps were in the wrong direction, in favor of the waves
They could not even cower in the craft or say a prayer
The boat and men turned upside down
The ship had splintered into nothing and flew into the gale
Only three men remained, bobbing on the giant waves
Flapping their arms like molested chickens on the sea
Tossed in every direction but straight ahead
Rogue waves were in control, in hysterical rage and agitation
No one knew what happened to the crew
They were never seen again
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
Where has the rum gone
In Davy Jones Locker
Near Dead Man's Pass
Your compass will never work
It will never help you
Follow the pirate spirit
You must be true
To your fellow mates and companions
Even deep lady blue
The skies are tarnished
While dawn arises
Enough of the foolishness
No more surprises
The crew asks where is the rum
I say through the horizon and over the sun...
Copyright © Robert Sebastian | Year Posted 2009
This story is based partly on the Indian mythology and partly on my imagination.
The theme is anger, how it can destroy even the entire Earth and if controlled,
how it converts into a creative energy. The incident is from the mythology of
Hindus, which speaks, how Shiva the supreme God of Hindus started
one day his Tandava Nritya * or the Dance of Destruction……………..What was
the cause of this anger would be explained in the concluding part of this story.
When the Universe was in danger 1 of 4
The cascading spring of poetry or anger, start flowing,
When pain got absorbed, in one’s mind and heart,
And the agonies of heart, show their somber face,
When they dance on the lips, while words take shapes.01
The utterance becomes a melody or a loud voice of thunder,
Depending upon the depths, of pain and piercing thorns,
When tears start rolling from eyes, without stopping for a while,
Like the streams which keep flowing, without ever stopping.
When the waves of pains, strike high touching the air and,
The separation from love splashes against the sky,
It takes shape as a pain of heart, and goes-up like high waves or,
It burst like heated lava, coming from a Volcano’s chest. 03
Suppressed pain strikes the rocks, when they comes on its way,
The sea of turmoil creates a fearful noise, while hitting the rocks,
The anger then burst, like the sea surf covering the mighty rocks,
To engulf everything coming, before the raging mind and heart. 04
Considering the end to save the lives, the earth started shouting loudly,
As if the Tandava Nritya*, had started to engulf the earth,
O Please Stop, You are the God of creation & destruction too,
Have mercy, O Shiva*, O Please stop, your Tandava Nitrya,*
Or else the whole earth would forever come to a halt. 05
Kanpur India 14h Feb 2011 to continue in 2/8
Shiva* is the supreme God of Hindus, who is also the source of all creations and
distractions. Shiva’s Tandava is a vigorous dance that is the source of the cycle of
creation, preservation and dissolution. Tandava depicts his violent nature as the
destroyer of the universe.
*Tandava Nritya* means Dance of destruction
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2011
Alas morning has come,
the treacherous storm has passed
Anticipation heightens my senses as the wind swirls past,
The essence of musk engulfs me;
Replacing the aroma of sea salt that once filled the misty air
I am assured that my beloved pirate is homeward bound
Perched upon my lighted tower
I gaze out across the horizon, waiting, hoping
For that first glimpse of the storm tattered sails
That adorn the vessel that had denied me that which makes me whole
Although the competition that vies for the heart of the Pirate may be grandiose,
There can be only one victor!
I cachinnate at your feeble attempt
To match wits with my poetic prose
Step aside Oh witch of the sea
And wipe the gull crap from your nose
Tis my beauty and grace that will prevail
I am the picture in his mind
You are just a barnacle
Hideous and unrefined
I pity you and your reckless dreams
Of captivating the Pirates heart
For no wretched wench of the sea
Could ever keep us apart
A Pirate does not long for
Raunchy harlots dressed in rags
Courtesans with damaged goods
Or withered old sea hags
Nor is it a rotund woman
Paunchy and robust
That titillates his senses
Filling his loin with lust
It is I dressed in fine linen
Pink orchids in my hair
The scent of passion I emanate
Will be more than he can bear
So step aside young peasant girls
Watch and whimper in despair
As he chooses the lovely Princess
Both voluptuous and fair
Your songs are inchoate and crude
Like the Sirens fatal call
I sing my celestial serenade
Your harm it will forestall
(Song of the Princess)
For I am your ardent Mariner
Manning the beacon that lights your way
Pacing the gallery day and night
From my post I will not stray
Time has yet to diminish
The taste you left behind
That gentle kiss that bid farewell
Remains within my mind
The vacuity induced by your absence
Has been replaced with a burning desire
To settle myself upon your manly hood
And extinguish the sensual fire
I touch my fingers to my lips
Then place them at my heart
A tear descends down my cheek
Creating the waters that keep us apart
In desperation I call to Poseidon
Great God of the sea
Hear my prayers, feel my pain
Bring my pirate back to me
Please hurry home sweet Captain
Oh pirate of the sea
Hurry home to the one you love
Well all know that ‘s me!
To all the strumpets that compete
It's time that we retrench
Save your hearts and walk away
He’ll chose the Princess not the wench
Copyright © Dawn Drickman | Year Posted 2007
there's no turning back...
when landscapes change, when the rains come
submerged in solitary conversations
I'm unworthy to left gifts at your feet
so I wait and sleep in this desolate bothy
shattered and painfully conscious
and it's like descending the slippery cliffs
even if some of them have withstood a thousand storms
it's been a mindless voyage led by lack of sobriety
right when you found my incomplete letters
and your blurred outlines were drifted ashore
leaving the white lines carved into sand
would we go in a bottomless boat?
that's where I seek the point of continuation
but one day they'll throw away all of your belongings
down to the bottomless chasm of memories
and it will stalk me through the mainland
haunt me even at the bottom of the ocean
knowing that life of unfulfilled desires is like an immortal pilgrim
shrinking in the darkest nook of guilt
but I believe that our paper boat is unsinkable
in loving memory of sweet melancholy
we'll sing the shepherd's ballads by the jetty
I'll hold your hand...
through the final ascend from hazy lowlands
'cause I know there's certainly a rebirth awaiting,
as lost love leaves scars in the countryside
and each night I can't resist
the lighting of south side beacon
the ageless beacon that will shine on our way
when your shy retinas turn to flowers
and hide away from moonlit skies
I'm sinking in smoothness of your skin
stitching your heart to mine
and letting it sail away in a bottle
while you're still shivering beside me
as a reminder of our mortality
enchanted by the divine music
flying in a great heights like two starving gulls
over the freezing sea of abstractions
waterlogged and malcontended
we will abandon the terminal beach
we'll leave together in the air
and greet every star without exception
Copyright © William Greco | Year Posted 2016
Weren’t you the silly and stubborn young man who came to the land of the Free
and home of the Brave to work for free, starve and get no sleep? How dare you change
paradise for this?
Once the night fell you got on a tiny boat with a thousand others breaking your mother’s
heart and making the toughest man on earth cry, your father.
Oh you silly young man... smart, handsome, talented, and humble of only 23 decided to
risk it all. You had it better than most back home, yet you needed more. You needed to
set foot on the land of “Once upon a time.”
Days went by, weeks and maybe months, desperation came closer and the toughest
broke down, the braves returned back home to make it there as if it was meant to be like
that and the fool like you continued. Even though everything seemed to be endless, you,
I guess, you trusted God or were too blind folded by your desires that you didn’t back up.
Tierra! (Land!) Was screamed in desperation as a sign of relieve. Tierra! Columbus and his
men would’ve been ashamed of their cry announcing that they had reached land if they
would’ve heard you and your companions.
OH, you silly old man, still don’t own a home. Yet, feel that you have accomplished all.
Like a sleepy baby you got through the days. You made it through with hands that had a
mind of their own, fixing things, painting, and doing things that still amaze us all.
But you, you didn’t come here for the home, the car of the year, or the Bling Bling but for
the future of two little girls. Foolishness, ignorance and desire taught you to be the best
man to walk the surface of the earth, to be tough, to be brave like a soldier and to stay
humble all the way!
I love you Dad.
Copyright © yesica lantigua | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
for bruce springsteen...
it was a rain-swept monsoon day
way back then, so many moons away
when i felt the music strumming in my veins
setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins
you sang of simple truths,
your verse spoke to people just like me
in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night
as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight
'bobby jean' spoke to me
of that girl down the street
glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet
and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart
led me down further roads of thunder
when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on
and never to surrender
to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run
while i danced in the dark
with memories vivid and stark
even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark
and then a 'human touch' came along
and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song
and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes
as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies
in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned
as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned
and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up
working on a highway of scattered ideals
and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup
well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road
with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad
but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night
just like the ghost of that old tom joad...
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
We are Tausug Nation
Free from the enemies
Stood not to get oppressed
Our Nation ruled
Of the country’s independence
Never conquered from then
We shall develop our land
Our country, nation is known
Home of courageous person
Bound only in one faith
Never care of the death
Tumantangis, Dahu peaks of our land
To Bagsak, Sinumaan
And to all the mountains here
Only one God is aimed
Zamboanga, Basilan, North Borneo, Palawan
Centre is in Sulu land
Ruled by the Sultan
From the early point of time
Our nation is united
In the name of faith is complete
Only God is firm
Determined not to get conquered
Land of the pearl garden
Sulu Sea in the world is famous
From the South and North
And East and West
Blood of Martyrs flowed in the vein of the Sug Nation
Fought to defend
Flag rose like Vinta strip
Eternal pledge appeared
Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2009
I once told a lie
as I looked her in the eyes
LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL
I just smashed a bowl
CB is a troll
In both sense
Wandering through minds of the unforgiven
As they irrationally spill their metaphorical hearts
Copyright © Laura Valledy | Year Posted 2011
YOUNG CRONUS (5.7.09)
My father decided he wanted his children
buried, and left for dead.
But my mother, Gaea, both fair and true,
spared her children instead.
So I met with my selfish father,
where, by Gaea, we both were led,
and, holding the sickle she gave me,
this is what I said:
"Hello, dearest father.
I'm glad that you came. After years without you,
I know how you feel about us.
I just hope you know: We feel the same about you."
"But we are not here to argue.
I came here to say good bye."
He knew farewells were in order,
but he did not yet, know why.
I explained our situation,
as my siblings stood idly by,
saying, "If you don't want to have children,
you cannot be swayed, so I won't even try.
But its too late to go back now.
You cannot erase my family and I.
So that leaves us only one option,
and that's why I'm saying goodbye."
"Goodbye, worthless father.
I'm glad that you came. Now pay what is due.
We know how you feel about us,
and now you know how we feel about you."
He regretted the seeds he had sewn,
so, in charity, I reaped his remorse.
I swung my sickle pure and precise,
with such fervent and furious force;
His blood was late to react to the wound,
and that which was lost by means of divorce,
found it's new home in the deep, dark, blue ocean-
unable to ever return to it's source.
Together with most of my brothers and sisters,
there seemed to be no better fit
than to send him away, as he would have sent us;
to the bottomless Tartarus pit.
"Goodbye, worthless father.
I'm glad that you came, and you paid what was due.
We knew how you felt about all of us,
so we showed you just how we all feel about you."
"Farewell forever, father.
I'm glad that you're gone, and I'll never atone.
Know that your fear was what you created,
as I take my seat in what once was your throne."
Copyright © John Taylor | Year Posted 2010
is someone eles's son
(shield your eyes)
shrug off hate
been here before
thousands of nights
the ocean shore
coasts are changing
hate and fear
must now resign
connect the dots
move my child
tame the shy
wake the wild
relayed from the miser
obstructing the wiser
the hydrogen burns
each time earth turns
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011