Best Bermuda Poems
Triangle of death
UFOs- maybe reptiles of space ?
Unexplained powers
A story well told
Questionable assumptions
Who knows the answer ?
01.08.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Lies in the large area of Atlandic deep
Betwixt Florida, Puerto Rico, and Bermuda
A creepy, frightening, and mysterious reef
Formed the devil's triangle above atoll Barbuda
The heavily travelled shipping lanes of the globe
Where vessels vanished in mystic circumtances
Region where aircrafts routinely fly over and rove
But skippers and aviators still believe in chances
With the shot in the arm of weather satellites fly
Seen and noticed the unusual hexagonal clouds
Experts in atmospheric phenomena decrypt the sky
Hoped to save from deadly blast of water-air shrouds
Precioso Tano
May 13, 2017
O ther misconceptions of my
H ome of birth and where I spent some of my
Y outh is that
E veryone lives in mud huts and wears grass
S kirts as tourists are greeted at the airport.
B ermuda is a place of
E xceptions in that as of course the world economy is changing, that for a small island
it is still one of the
R ichest nations on the Earth!
M any of the people you might see on the street, if any, are not poor; but, because of the
U nbelievably high cost of living has to
D eal with finding a roof over their head hard.
A lso, while some things might have come to the
I sland a little later than the states, we are not a barefoot, backwoods people
T hat don't know anything and are in constant awe of the
S treams of people who visit us.
Y ou tourists are graced with an island and a people
O f beauty, Godly fear, and an
U nbelievable strength that has fought off one natural disaster
A fter another.
N o other island is graced with our beautiful pink-sanded beaches.
D iversity is reached with people from South America, Europe, the Azores, North America, as
well as
M any other islands and nations.
E ach and every house, as well as it people are "cemented in colour and everlasting pride"!
(The acrostic spells out a song that I used to sing constantly when I was little.)
So many years ago but some memories just don't fade.
This wondrous island I lived on is an adventure I'd not trade.
To see things now like I did then through wide and awe-swept eyes
would make me think of a bigger place yet it was a small size.
Twenty two square miles of beauty,coastline,rocky shore.
A biological station that was closed now and even more.
Where we lived a perfume factory used the passion flower.
That pungent fragrance carried through the air with so much power.
Little brother and I would run down to the cliffs below.
We'd search the horizon for ships with many goods in tow.
Deep-sea expeditions were carried out there too.
And not too far from our house was a wild safari zoo.
When we went in to St. George's town we'd wind up on the square.
It was fascinating to see the British selling their wares there.
Silks and jewelry,finest china,novelties of all kinds.
We learned to count in pounds and schillings and had to use our minds.
One day we moved back to the states but I really missed the island;
the cobalt skies and azure waters and crystalline pink sand.
It was a child's paradise with plenty of wonderful things to do.
Those memories have lasted a long time and will forever it's true!
Suddenly a big hole opened up in the sea, the ship sank into it; the vessel
rests on the bottom where shiny star fish light up the dark before they are
swallowed by sharks .The captain on his bridge, cook in his galley, the first
engineer in the engine room, as it was dinner time when she sank ,her crew
are in the mess room, dancing ghoulishly around as the sea gently sighs.
And sometimes the skeletal face of the deck boy peeks through a porthole
asks when the ship arrives in New York, a girlfriend waiting for him; there is
a moment of hilarity as dead sailors’ moves about free of man’s burden.
The cook rests in a in a large pot tells himself he must wake up, bake bread
and do the bloody the dishes as he tries to get his cigarette lighter to work.
Her captain bobs up and down trying to find his charts, maps of the oceans
currents and wonders why the radar isn’t working. The engineer is trying to
find out why the engine stalled. I knew them all, but dastardly left them in
Rio de Janeiro just because I met a girl called Maria.
There's an island paradise located in the blue Atlantic.
No place on earth is quite as charming and romantic!
A shangri-la where beaches are pink and everyone smiles.
The place whereof I speak are the quaint Bermuda Isles!
There are no streets with mundane names like Elm or Main,
But you will find Shinbone Alley and Old Maid's Lane,
Or Aunt Peggy's Lane and unique Featherbed Alley,
Where quaint shoppes welcome you for a spot o'tea!
Brave tourists straddle motorbikes to go for a spin,
Perhaps stopping for a rum swizzle at famed Swizzle Inn!
Or if it's something delectable they desire to munch,
May stop by the Hog Penny in Hamilton for a leisurely lunch!
If looking for a sheltered beach on which to cavort,
There's no finer than Tobacco Bay nigh St. Catherine's Fort!
Ah, to spend an evening at Ye Olde White Horse Inn,
Slurping Bermuda fish chowder and sipping tonic and gin!
At night the shimmering sea reflects the magnificent moon.
Dulcet calypso music wafts from across the glassy lagoon.
Bermuda is known for its lilies, onions and friendly blokes,
And for the beauty of its sunsets the Master Artist invokes!
Entry for Thvia Shetley's "Foreign Travel" Contest
His Vacation In Bermuda-8 word challenge
candy drops rain on drought stricken crops
her triple treats spiraled without any stops
his eyes span kaleidoscope
he rushes to open her envelope
ten years celibacy ending with hollow pops
the sweetness curls of her perpetual motion
the cacophony of waves pounding his ocean
a hooker curbs his hysteria
of soothing his chaotic area
Bermuda triangle's apocalypse, for him a godsend
connie pachecho
9/20/17
1. HYSTERIA 2. KALEIDOSCOPE 3. PERPETUAL 4. CHAOTIC
5. CACOPHONY 6. APOCALYPSE 7. SPIRALED 8. HOLLOW
This poem I didn't enter. I feel it wouldn't smell a rose.
I like the title, ending, how everything ties together but
it would never place.
The blue waters of the North Atlantic,
deceptively calm, are shrouded in mystery
in the deadly Bermuda triangle,
delineated by many as a paranormal swathe,
where series of unexpected events, unexplained,
made many aircraft and ships to strangely disappear.
Despite the belief of manufactured mystery,
the Devil’s triangle attracted many elucidations…
the influence of the lost continent of Atlantis,
the magnetism of submerged Bimini Road formation,
the Gulf stream upwelling the marine gas hydrates,
but as yet no consensus has emerged.
The plausible explanation may well be the linked causal trinity,
synchronizing to define the enigmatic triangle.
October 2, 2020
Contest : The Unexplained
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire
Bermuda Triangle
This event was terrifyingly true,
Out in Atlantic, on the ocean blue.
It was ‘81, after we left Fort Lauderdale,
Hoping for happy Bahamas vacation tale
Aboard chartered sailboat, ketch of 52 feet,
Even air conditioned for the Florida heat.
Three couples, all best friends, comprised the crew,
Plus hired captain, since to big boats we were new.
We departed on the evening tide,
Little knowing the captain had lied.
Planned sailing the Gulf Stream throughout the night
To see Bahama reefs in morning light.
We dined and drank and steered in shifts,
Light wind, sea smells coming in whiffs.
Suddenly I was shaken awake,
“Come help!” they shouted, real fear, not fake.
I rushed on deck to see the scene:
Calm breeze, slow rolling beam to beam,
Captain drunk, in funk, throwing up his meal,
Crew pointing to compass, no one at wheel.
Captain staggers, slurs we must now turn back,
Crew plainly having a panic attack.
VHF just scary static in dark night,
Compass dial wildly spinning, such a fright!
Direction finder showed same signal all around,
Everyone worried about reefs, running aground.
Only Power not Sailboats, the captain had known,
He’d let us drift too far north, his cover was blown.
Now lost in Bermuda Triangle of fable,
Stars blocked by clouds, and no navigation table.
Crew whimpering aloud on the open ocean,
Just soft sloshing and a random rolling motion.
Despite Captain sniveling about being hired,
I took charge, yelling that he was now fired,
Then lashed the steering wheel tightly right
So that we’d ram no reefs, come what might.
Four hours later, shortly before sunrise,
Compass began working to my surprise.
Radio and RDF receiving like new,
We were no longer sole boaters on the sea blue.
Proceeded to West End, docked safely in slip
With no word from ex-captain, not even a pip.
Crew cheered our mystery adventure, what a great trip!
May 17, 2020
Contest: Action Adventure
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Relaxing at Ye Olde White Horse Inn in quaint St. George's Towne,
I enjoy another rum swizzle as I watch the crimson sun go down!
Its rays cast a blush of red on fleets of sails cruising St. George's Harbour.
The soothing hiss of waves salve my soul as they roll t'ward the shore.
A magnificent display of varicoloured clouds tint the restless sea.
I sense that the Master Artist has painted this scene exclusively for me!
The rhythmic strains of calypso music wafts across the smooth lagoon.
Soon this paradise will be caressed by the mellow rays of the moon!
I amble up Shinbone Alley to the top of Fort Victoria Hill for to see,
A final glimpse of that ancient orb as it slowly sinks beneath the sea!
I meander back down Olde Maid's Lane to the Carriage Shoppe for tea,
At a quayside table to savor my beautiful Bermuda sunset reverie!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
1956 Newport to Bermuda Race
In June, 89 sailboats at midday
Left Newport and Narragansett Bay.
We're on the way in a 635 mile race
To Bermuda - a beautiful place.
Light winds on the first day out
Even sighted a large whale spout.
Next morning at day light
No other boats in sight.
As there were none we could find.
Are we ahead or behind?
Sailing straight on the “rum line”
Not a good idea at this time.
As smart as it may seem
Don't want to buck the Gulf Stream.
And avoid all it's meanders
Or won't get to smell Bermuda's sweet oleanders.
Water temperature was taken with care
At 78 degrees got stuck in the stream there.
Now things began to change
Wind started to howl and started to rain.
Wind was now blowing 25 knots
We were healing and bouncing a lot
We secured the main hatch
On our way to the “Onion Patch.”
Time to douse the head sail
And prepare for the gale.
Rain and spray came through every crack
Bunks were wet, where we sat. and down my back,
It was now squall after squall
I couldn't count them all.
Shrouds and canvas were rope yard tight
Sailing through waves in the middle of the night.
Thunder and lighting above our tall metal mast
We had to ask how long could that last?
Wasn't the squalls that worried me most
It's the Lightning bolts that could turn us to toast.
The following morning the squalls had gone
But the wind was still blowing strong.
Glad to get out of those Hellish storms
Amazing how well the crew preformed.
But two became sick
And had to get them ashore quick.
Now it was not time to wait
We used sun lines to navigate.
The island is small and there is some risk
We would sail right by and totally miss.
At last Saint David's Light came into sight
Our course and steering had been just right.
Lots of boat damage and one boat went down
It hit a reef but nobody drowned.
Three days without sleep
Are not fond memories to keep.
Finistere was the boat that won
Yet records were broken by almost everyone.
The island is beautiful and there we had fun
But was last race for me, I'm truly done.
Fog rolls in ominous and steers the boat
marine mammals are swarming -
Triangle’s welcoming…
8/2/2022
Walmart, you are the Bermuda triangle of business.
There's no way Mother Nature would birth something so vicious.
You treat everyone that comes in your path like a snail
You cover them in salt, sit in your theater chair, and laugh laugh laugh
No one stays on top forever
I see the sun setting on you days of terror
If Jack from the Beanstock was real,
Instead of throwing a wedding
I'd pay him to squash you with his foot!
The
Scary
Bermuda
Triangle
Lore
Legends
Ghostly planes
hundreds missing
books
ledgers
documents
first hand accounts
fine
tales
campfire
conversation
so
many
pulled from sky
no survivors