On bowride below gentle titans peep
ghost ships of the Pacific hunt and chase -
great barnacled seafarers of the deep
beneath the waves its clear blue waters grace.
Where yon an old boneyard whaling station
fluking bulls and cows breach the feeding pod,
and dive in fabled echolocation
bones of Ahab and wreck of the Pequod.
Yet still ghost ships the old hunting grounds scout
its mystic echo whalesong far reaching,
and still cavernous mouths unmade to shout
trap by moon and tide on remote beaching.
Let no harpoon or flense sound its death throes
and may long live the shout of “thar she blows!”.
Written: July 1992
sun …
glints off sweaty trickles as
they plop … plop …
little lad’s littler fingers tickling a
tide pool’s papery face
things of mysterious intention, darting
there to here to there …
wide eyes wider in amazement
tiny thrums quick’ning
dividing breaths
like swells divide the time
and tides …
a splash and a grasp, tightening
some small watery beast
cold-red cheeks blooming wide to
parody the dazzled bay
grins and giggles to mock the black-backs
for this shrimpy monster, squirming
is the prize of a wee fist
gamboling its way to
proffer some mad-mommy shrieks -
slimy and squiggly and
oh, so wondrous!
hunter, home from the hill
Ahab and his white sea demon
perfectly prideful,
invested surety of a silly smile
warmed by the sooty
afternoon …
sun.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, June 9, 2024
I test the gum
And the scum
That came from
So many feet
Scrape the blood
And the crud
Between mud
Smooshed on concrete
I sample spit
Ample birds***
All with a flick
Of the wrist
Coz I’m your local
Wearing bifocal
Antisocial
Sidewalk chemist
I run a lab
And own a lab
Called Ahab
And when we walk
I grab a glut
Of cigarette butts
Ahab sniffs mutts
We rarely talk
I test the muck
Assay green yuck
Prod black guck
With tender care
Then it’s all tagged
Labeled and bagged
But I can’t drag
It to a fair
Data is sorted
Then transported
Where it’s reported
By sidewalk chemist
But the town hall
Says I have some gall
With my folderol
And I’m promptly dismissed
I’ve paid my dues
Been on the news
With great reviews
Now for an encore
I’ve been promoted
To test the foetid
And sweaty coated
Men’s locker room floor
Captain Tabby Longtail stands
Like Ahab at the helm,
His Jolly Roger flying high
Above his salty realm.
He’ll keelhaul your scurvy carcass
If you give him any bull,
And he’ll make you walk the plank, mate,
If his food dish isn’t full.
Sturgeon Moon
So soon
Summer slips through our fingers
Our own version of Michigan underwater beasts
Ogling the luminous bellies of boats swimming down Clam River
Dockside a roar with Ahab revelers
I have seen millions of moons
Leaping on the midnight ripples of Torch Lake
I have seen hills and pointes that darkly roll and rise
Inviting levitation
A cheer from our bow
Fireball shot
Looks like home but isn’t
We float down the shore with flashlights
I have seen a picture taken at the lakeside campfire
My wife and I
Standing in the gaps of our four sitting children
Six orange hooded faces
Without bodies
Eyes round as owls
Looking out from the tree of life
I cup my mouth with astonishment.
Whale Wayfarers
By Mark Stucky
Are you obsessed like Captain Ahab,
horizon-bound to harpoon that whale?
Could that addiction shipwreck you
and drown loved ones surrounding you?
Is your Pequod-like quest
worth the possible price?
Or are you oblivious like Jonah,
blithely sleeping through the maelstrom
while willfully avoiding the call
and ignoring those who need you?
Will surging storm swells swallow you,
and only a whale of a tale can save you?
(First published in Agape Review, 9 Dec. 2022. See also my poem “Reluctant Rogue Redo?” for more ponderings on Jonah’s adventures.)
(Photo by Ray Shrewsberry on Pixabay.com.)
Who dares rouse Leviathan,
the Giant beneath the heaving deeps?
This world now teams with Ahabs
whose heaping anger never sleeps.
Each one wants to hook its jaw
and each to press its tongue;
to try its rich and fragrant oil
and see it bound and beached and dumb.
Poor soul captains on fragile ships
vainly sharpening the barbless spear.
The Whale scoffs beneath the waves,
rising to teach all wisdom through fear.
Soon the Brute will breach and blow
and send each Pequod down below.
Poetry will not keep you warm
Not like a cat nestled between legs
But, it hunts down manic thoughts
Gnashes the static till the mind gives
Chases a thought till claws are bloody
Keeps you drenched in sweat
Yes, she mews for attention
Till its cries grate every nerve
Till I feed it words & want
Poetry keeps me squirming
Caught in a net skimming a deluge
Waiting for words to be hauled
The big catch ever escaping
Keeps me checking the line
Insisting I jump into cold waters
Foolishly like Ahab chasing a tail
Sadness is my white whale
Mad with promises holey
Poetry is a leaky bucket
Catching the rain of words
Within depression's storm
Coming like a cat with a pail
Impossible and torrential
Ensnaring me for an hour
Keeps me back for seconds
Promising an easy catch
Cold and slippery
This piece of debate is a type of sin
Bound to prick the True Christian like a pin.
One may a dozen times arguments win:
All a Big Trash for his waiting dustbin.
But from someone like me a toothy grin
And sure request for a half glass of gin.
God with Christ had created the First Man
But had Satan sinned then to face a ban?
Planning Ahab's death had hatched God's meeting,
The Lying Spirit's proposal God's Greeting;
So smart an idea no second sitting:
A Syrian arrow king's chest hitting...
Sometimes, God's pleasure to men delegate
For tasks He could all behind relegate,
So that one acts not the surrogate
Or to self false honors arrogate.
So, was Satan part of First Creation
Or tired had gone for recreation?
waling and
yelling at
the top
of his
voice
Ahab
stabbing
the air with
a harpoon says
that
whale
is a dick
Ahab puppy loved him some evil Jezebel
Lassie boy collar eyes wag the fancy tale
He sleep on her good side,
sob say the cuckold bride
Groomed so wail to fetch her bones in hell
Miracles are of angels—
even the fallen ones—remember
the idol elections;
Yet, know that the devil
is as much a lie today
as when with wolves like
Pharaoh, Ahab, and Jezebel;
Though he may ride high today,
certainly he will surly fall tomorrow:
it has been seen and predicted again;
Look through the tears of blood
and see the falling coming—
no lie can live forever—only truth;
While the night’s injustice seems to be upon us,
know the stars are twinkling; that the sunshine of justice
will surly rise and Satan and his angels will just as surly fall
like the lightening does from heaven: resurrection is no lie. Word.
Of old
It’s told,
A tale
Of whale
So white
It might
Eclipse
Great ships
And smash
Their masts
And send
Its men
To hell
As well.
Ishmail
Did sail
With mad
Ahab
And crew
Onto
The deep,
To seek
And slay
That whale
So white,
Whose sight
Drove mad
Ahab.
The cost:
All lost
At sea,
But he
Alone,
Sea-blown,
Alive,
Survived
That hell,
To tell
His tale
of whale
And mad
Ahab.
Abraham the father of the faithful
Barnabas the encourager so graceful
Caleb who believed victory to bring
David the shepherd boy became king
Exodus the book containing God's law
Felix reasoned with Paul found no flaw
Genesis tells of God's work of creation
Habakkuk rejoiced in God of his salvation
Isaiah prophesied the suffering of the Lord
Jacob succeeded in prevailing with God
Kidron brook where David from Absalom fled
Luke the gospel writer and physician well read
Matthew followed Jesus call to leave his tax
Nehemiah sought to rebuild city wall no time to relax
Obadiah a chief in house of king Ahab
Paul the chief apostle so very fab
Quails God's wilderness dessert to eat
Resurrection of Christ our heavenly seat
Satan hater of God's church constantly lies
Tomb from where Jesus indeed did rise
Uriah wrong by King David for Barsheba
Veil was torn it's meaning so deeper
Whale where Jonah was for days three
Xerxes was king when Esther set Jews free
Yoke which Jesus spoke of his being light
Zechariah was God's prophet to tell what's right
Masted castles crown the mountains
Hidden by the brackish sea,
Where a string of boiling fountains
Dot the ever-spreading lea.
Leafless forests of the deep,
Visited by swimming birds,
Serve as sailors’ place to sleep,
Roamed by mute, abyssal herds.
Neptune’s armies stride undaunted
While his mammoths plunge and rise,
One of which bewitched and haunted
Ahab to his swift demise.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
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