All humans know that it is a basic need.
When men get hungry, they have to feed.
So what does the crew of this ship have to eat?
There are only two carcasses of rotten meat.
Our doctor says everything will be fine,
if we rinse out the maggots with brine.
The cooks have to make soup for the crew.
As there is nothing else, what are they to do?
Better food is give to the Japanese prisoners of war.
The men are ready to mutiny. They can't take anymore.
Based on the 1925 Russian silent film "Battleship Potemkin"
You know what? Too much of ship been going on.
As I sit back I realize, I been dealing with a lot of ship. I really been in some ship and through some ship in my life.
But enough about me, what about you? What kind of ship have you been in or experienced?
Let’s evaluate some of this ship.
relationship, censorship, battleship
sportsmanship, leadership, kinship
discipleship, cruise ship, sponsorship
championship, guardianship, worship
membership, scholarship, dealership
spaceship, citizenship, fellowship
friendship, partisanship, dictatorship
partnership, workmanship, starship
apprenticeship, companionship
stewardship, penmanship…
Alright that’s enough, I’m so over this ship.
Eighty-four years later -
yet still you bleed
glimmering sheen of oil
from reserves once newly fueled
before you burned
an unsuspecting victim
of the cutting edge
of desperate war.
Your nation rallied fast,
took fiery vengeance of its own
over wooden cities.
One fire deserves another, doesn't it?
And now, keeping watch over your broken form,
your younger sister floats proudly.
She hosted their surrender
Now she remains the other bookend -
The knowing triumph to your ignorant defeat.
And the story is long concluded...
But still you bleed.
written by 17:21
2025-10-22
My dogs drink enough water
To fill up an oversized elephant
To drowned three camels
To sink a battleship
We cannot keep water in their bowls
And they have ten of them
Six inside
Four outside
I wish my dogs had trunks
They could water my flowers
Rescue neighbors from burning houses
I am surprised they do not slosh when they run
My dogs drink enough water
To fill up an oversized elephant
To drowned three camels
To sink a battleship
We cannot keep water in their bowls
And they have ten of them
Six inside
Four outside
I wish my dogs had trunks
They could water my flowers
Rescue neighbors from burning houses
I am surprised they do not slosh when they run
Put a nickel on the needle
Hold me down so I won't skip
Spin the red top round and round
Catch me before I hit the ground
You sunk my battleship
You knocked my block off
You catch me quite off guard
Should you ever breathe my way
You'll wreck my house of cards.
©SamHarty
I
Never one to shackle one with the past
Yet humans use words to distort
Time, our guilt or responsibility
In that sense, the Past is a scapegoat
An escape route, and inconsistent ally:
If one has/ had parents, one has a past
And we give it life with our names ...
When we use any names, biological
Or anthropological, or political (Malcolm X)
The past is deployed - a battleship of peace and war
II
God has a Past (faithfulness) yet is timeless
Not shackled by time; the Passover
Cannot be passed over or passed by
Even as Past History of Hebrews escaping
Egypt, superpower of the day
If you have skeletons you're hiding
You may say LET the PAST BURY ITSELF
It can't be done
Face it, repent, and enjoy PRESENT Presents
Of a cleaner conscience, trust, open relationships
The PAST is the (steamship or) airship
That brought you here: face this time with truth
A thundering spacecraft arriving out of nowhere,
a crashing, crushing presence
hurled downward until lamps blink, doors tremble
and roof shudders.
I count seconds into an electric darkness.
The next boom is distant, miles away,
just weather, not the menace
of an alien attack.
Then the next mighty boom
sounds like a salvo from a battleship.
A fizzing pause, a weak flapping, a scrabble,
as if a stricken angel had been downed.
Will a rescue mission be mounted,
some frontline extraction?
No wait...just a thunderstorm.
In the daylight will I find a few wing feathers
some mangled pigeon parts,
relics that must be ferried to the trashcan
under the watchful eyes of mourning doves?
In the shadow of the Second World War,
Fuehrer wanted to augment maritime power
and control the waters of the northern oceans.
In the North Sea he proudly set sail Bismarck,
the largest German battleship ever built.
On maiden voyage off the coast of Scandinavia
she got fiercely engaged with the Royal Navy,
heavily damaged, survived the first battle
in the fateful strait of Denmark,
but was totally crippled by later air attack.
She was scuttled by the German navy,
bringing her brief life to an unceremonious end,
as she committed suicide so to say, and sank
to save herself from further ignominy.
November 6, 2021
Contest : A Noteworthy Ship
Sponsor : Robert James Liguori
[In my youth, glue was tubes or bottles of gloop
for sticking stuff together: cement was grey powder
that you mixed with sand and gravel to make concrete]
***
I wish I spoke American when I was a kid
I might have built my airfix kits better than I did
I’d get so exited as I opened up the box
Even though the parts inside would end up being rocks
First I made a battleship but made a mess of it
So I tried another kit... a model Messerschmitt
I messed that one up totally, so tried a Saturn V
I built that rocket carefully... it made a mess of me
What the hell was wrong with ’glue’ or possibly ‘adhesive’
All of the instructions were frankly in-cohesive
The writer, were he English, would have written what he meant
And not suggested sticking bits together with cement.
I hate salt for the sake of my cake
That is sodium-rich by the baker's mistake
And the syrup I poured
That I never ignored
Is more salty still
Then a fish with a sword
I like sugar and spice and everything sweet
For the sake of a snack or the lack of a treat
But I struggle and fight
With a big appetite
For a cherry cheesecake
And a bottle of Sprite
Yes I really hate salt by the savor I taste
That is bigger than big by the size of my waist
And the water I hold
That is bigger than bold
Is a day at the beach
In a battleship mold
If the salt I consume is the fault of my doom
Then I might as well vault to the back of my room
But I’m heavy as heck
With an iron neck
And a big Mack truck
In a miserable wreck
But if salt is to blame for the blotch in my fame
Then I might hopscotch to a different game
Where a sodium fix
In a bag of tricks
Is a sugar high
With some different kicks
If you still chase rats by the look of your hats
Then you might as well race to the Utah Salt Flats
Where the salt lick alone
Is more dry than a bone
And your new conversation
Is a drop in your phone.
Back to the basics taking yall to school, my academics are to high to be attained by fools, my words above ya head like water to deep you ed up out here lost at sea, niggas will drown from the weight of how I think, can't nobody save you, you shark food, o yea Iam ready to eat, thinking you can see tha the God, It's battleship time you bout to sink, understanding and wisdom is all I seek, Iam on the spiritual path trying to find peace, my power comes from on high, my image was consecrated in the heavens like a zodiac sign, Iam on a level you could never define, you still think its a man that lives in the sky, the God you know only exist in the space in your mind, God lives in us, to this secret knowledge religion will make you blind.
He can curse up a storm
make a sailor blush
Foul blue language
spewed out in a gush
Could strip paint clean
off a battleship
Exponentially worse if
you give him any lip
Rambling in sincerity's guise
but his worst 4-letter words
are all his LIES
8/16/2020
The poem was partially inspired by a phrase I would hear from time to time as I was growing up. “He’s a potty mouth and he needs to have it cleaned out with soap!” I can assure you the repeated uttering of that phrase wasn’t directed towards me as it took only one time to put me on the straight and narrow ;)
In a battleship war
Admirals looked for advantage
The best position be in
Is to cross the T
When the enemy is inline
Steaming towards you
Your battleships should be
In front of the first enemy ship
And steaming across the enemy’s line
This means all your guns can fire
On the first enemy ship in line
And blow it out of the water.
© Paul Warren Poetry
If you look closely, you will see
the masterpiece Winter painted
along mighty Erie’s shore
in the darkness, well into the early morning light.
You will see his fondness for delicate shades of gray,
How one by one he bends and sheaths the tall ornamental grass
in rounded silvery whiteness, and
how he paints ripply footprints at the water’s edge.
If you look closely, you will see
the fluttering gulls in the distance,
Seemingly small, yet not insignificant,
Every detail a pixel of life.
There’s more, if you look closer,
If you’re willing to brazen the biting wind,
Like the pile of jagged sticks, and mossy green rocks from summer,
Now a single creamy white ice sculpture.
And if you hold your eyes and heart wide open,
you can read the painter’s signature
written in the battleship gray sky—
December
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