Best Crews Poems
Lighthouse Litany
Statuesque and stalwart in your seaward gaze
There's such comfort in your beauty, you amaze!
Seafaring ships lost in wayward windswept seas
Conjures fears of drowning in crews prayerful pleas
As sailors catch sight of your luminous light,
You guide them to safety on a moonless night.
Your gift of guidance upon this rocky shore
Lends soulagement to nightmares of mystic lore.
To many you’re deemed an angel with Lord's light
With your elevated beam into the night.
So beloved also by those upon the earth...
You've earned the honors bestowed upon your worth.
12-23-18
Lighthouse Poetry Contest~Third Place~
Sponsor Eve Roper
Listen, my dears, and I'll tell you a tale
Of a princess, a pirate, and glory.
There's a shipwreck, a rescue,
A romance, a ransom,
And a handicapped whale in the story.
There once was a princess, fairest of all,
But also quite vain and spoiled rotten.
She had a semi-private
Affair with a pirate
That would be but for me now forgotten.
The pirate, Mad Jack, was bloodthirsty and crude,
When upset, he'd explode, blow his top off.
Merchant vessels he sank,
Made their crews walk the plank,
Or, more rudely, their heads he would lop off.
One day Princess Daphne set out to sea
With her maid, they were bound for Majorca.
But the maid, in a gale,
Was swept over the rail
And inhaled by an asthmatic orca.
Lifeboats were lowered, the crew clambered in
And rowed quickly away, only thinking
Of saving their own necks,
Not the princess below decks
Left alone on a wreck that was sinking.
Then through the storm a ship hove into view,
At first Daphne thought it would dodge her.
But before she could hail her,
She felt courage fail her,
From its mast flew a vast Jolly Roger.
When Princess Daphne was brought before Jack,
She was haughty but thought he was handsome.
But to his greedy eyes
This fair royal prize
Represented a shipload of ransom.
But Jack was still human, Daphne was too,
And soon they were sharing their privates.
To his quarters she moved
And his crew all approved,
No one loves a love tale more than pirates.
But what of the ransom, yet to be paid?
Well, here the plot gets even deeper.
The stingy king said to Jack,
"No, I don't want her back.
It's cheaper for me if you keep her."
So Princess Daphne became Jack's sea wife,
And though common, but not mandatory,
When they became parents
They stopped being pirates
And passed peacefully out of the story.
For now then, my dears, that's the end of my tale,
An adventurous one hard to equal.
But, if I may be so bold,
And there's more to be told,
It may one day unfold in a sequel.
Deer poet tree righters fore the cite
Pleas will ewe bee sweet
and worn me if ewe have scene any miss stakes eye have maid
butt eye no my speeling and ewes off English is prefect!
Eye am knot shore if eye have ever tolled ewe
that when eye right poet tree at knight ore in the mourning
eye don’t knead too ewes a smell chequer ore a theo sorearse
Off coarse, eye don’t no weather aisle get a first plaice inn the con test
butt eye want John too chews me sew eye can crews two victory!
HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU THAT...... Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
11/11/20
Vera Lynn's, "There'll Be Bluebirds Over, The White Cliffs Of Dover",
Keeps streaming through my brain like a wafting zephyr over and over!
'Tis a poignant reminder of sad and cheerless days during World War Two,
Yet, the Cliffs themselves were a beacon of hope when things were looking blue.
What a beautiful sight for weary bomber crews returning from flak-filled skies!
Seeing those venerable Cliffs, thanking God for their safe return with joyous cries!
Brave young men would live another day to carry on the battle with wings of flight;
On the 'morrow some to live, some to die to rid the world of tyranny's blight!
Royal Air Force pilots clashed in battle o'er the Cliffs - so very few, the very brave,
Defending Britain's shores as enemy planes flew from France in wave after wave!
Alas, many forfeited their lives on The Altar of Honor defending precious liberty.
They placed national destiny above their own that their countrymen might live free.
On a clear day the Cliffs could be seen gleaming from across the Dover Straits.
'Twas surely a beacon of hope for those across the sea facing uncertain fates.
They placed their hope in God praying that their comrades from across the way,
Would come to carry the Torch of Freedom to their shores one glorious day!
The magnificent South Foreland Lighthouse above the Cliffs today stands tall,
And brave men lie in hallowed graves awaiting Gabriel's clarion bugle call.
And Vera Lynn's "There'll Be Bluebirds Over, The White Cliffs Of Dover",
Yet streams through my brain like a wafting zephyr over and over and over!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
singed by sullen Sol, not stayed by Poseidon's hand;
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Impenitent, sky rains ash blackening the night.
Fire sends a smoky pall upon the sea and land,
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Fire eats: the air, snuffs man's breath; highlighting their plight,
all hands on deck, the Captain calls, out his command.
Aflame, aflame, tall ship burns, see their masts ignite.
Hell's inferno comes calling on this sun lit night,
foul winds blow, fire roars, and so the flames are fanned;
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.
Without their ship, crews are lost to a debtors blight.
Up the went like scarecrows shriven by the brand,
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Cinder shower catch the dock; workers run in fright.
Pain and heartache fill the wharf; still, they must disband.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.
Keelmen Heaving in Coals by Night' by Turner
Published by Dual Coast 2014
Scientists say it’s just a mirage,
but sailors claim the ghost ship floats
in air, with stormy seas below.
Again he tries to round Cape Hope.
Captain van der Decken angered God
one savage 18th Century night.
Vowed he’d sail till “Judgment Day,”
to cross the Table Bay, he’d fight.
The Flying Dutchman disappeared
sank deep in foggy, wind-swept sea,
but the captain’s doomed to walk the deck
each night in perpetuity.
His curse prevails in Wagner’s Opera
and Washington Irving’s story;
crews tremble, ghost ship emerges
Dutchman floats in frightening glory.
So many sailors and their ships
still meet demise on starless nights,
when demons steer the Dutchman
and a vengeful God reads last rites.
We write to you, your elfin crew,
To wish you joy and cheer!
For Christmas is upon us now -
The climax of our year.
We've toiled together - unified,
In our allotted crews.
And now we're stuck in training,
With barely time to schmooze.
The toys are wrapped, the sleigh is packed,
And Rudolph's fidgety.
Soon you will be making rounds,
As is the policy.
But though this yule is almost nigh,
Our merry Christmas vibe,
Is tempered by the memory,
Of those whom we survive.
Let's not forget the bristling sprite,
From northern twinkle-land.
Who's wisdom and composure,
Helped our vision to expand.
And over waves, across the sea,
The imp with shiny pate.
A knowledge store of rare repute,
And empathy, innate.
We can't forget the trollish clown,
Our western-most remote.
Who's antics in the darkest hours,
Kept our hearts afloat,
The reindeer trainers will be missed!
So poised and capable...
Were they in their instructions -
Irreplaceable!
So Santa, sir, we write to you,
That you may not forget.
The legacy of our brother elves,
And the hole which they have left.
Please strive to know our jobs' detail,
With depth and clarity.
And leave us not unbalanced,
Chasing prosperity.
Enjoy your well deserved respite,
As you rest and sip your brew,
We wish you Merry Christmas,
Your wearied elfin crew.
This poem was written after I took a tour of the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Wyoming, the site of Custer's Last Stand.
It was the year eighteen sixty-eight.
The U.S. government signed the Fort Laramie Treaty.
The Black Hills were to be closed to white settlements,
Preserved for the Lakota Indians
Forever, so long as the buffalo roamed.
'Forever' lasted less than eight years.
The eastern railroads needed meat for their track crews,
So professional hunters followed the rails westward.
Men like 'Buffalo Bill' made their living
Killing the buffalo for meat, hides, and sport.
It was the year eighteen seventy-two.
America celebrated its centennial.
Gold was discovered in the Black Hills,
And people in their thousands rushed to the west
Seeking fortunes and living space.
Most of them were immigrants to America
Fleeing depression and prejudice,
And ready to ignore the letter of the treaty law.
Towns quickly sprung up along the immigrant trails.
Towns like Deadwood - an illegal encampment
In the midst of Indian land.
People like Calamity Jane - an illegal immigrant.
Wild Bill Hickok - another illegal.
In the year eighteen seventy-six
The U.S. government sent the army to remove the Indians
From 'their land'.
Almost half of Custer's troops were immigrants themselves
From seventeen different countries
And two marked down as 'unknown'.
You already know the basic story.
The Lakota won the battle
But lost the war and their sacred Black Hills.
General Custer became a legend,
The Indian culture was 'civilized,
And U.S. history moved on.
History is full of ironies.
Custer, a hero for the North side
Winning battles against slavery in the Civil War,
Won greater fame by dying in a war to enslave the Lakota.
What's the lesson we should learn from all this?
Each of us standing here today is an 'illegal immigrant'.
We need to remember.
Jan caught a jet plane to New York
Where bacon does not come from pork
To end her trip
Jan let one rip
The Captain delivered a stork
Jan's flight was Economy grade
Stuck between an old man and old maid
In the middle row
Which way should she blow?
"Hey! I've got a new hearing aid!"
Hot air will rise up to the Heaven
Where degrees are numbered to seven
But Jan's chocolate farts
Broke all of the charts
And bounced back to suffocate Devon
Donald Trump and May made a pact
To abolish the Clean Air Act
For with Jan on the loose
Even Trump could deduce
Air stinks as a matter of fact
Jan could hear the wind in the willows
And lay down her head on the pillows
But one gust of wind
Would quickly transcend
Her sheets into shuddering billows.
So Jan wanted to go back home
But her agent booked her to Nome
The crews final task:
"Get oxygen mask"
Jan's luggage was blasted to Rome
Jan thought that she needed a rest
So she flew off to Budapest
She let off a few
For Captain and crew
Now she oompahs Oktoberfest
Sometimes I laugh other times I cry
As the Conveyor belt rolls on by
The poems that us poets write
Bright as day – dark as night
Trying hard to read them all
Sometimes I wish the belt would stall
As I read page after page
Full of love – Full of rage
It has became so clear to me
We are one big family
We share our love and our disgust
With open honest loving trust
We share our laughter and our tears
The beauty of youth and wisdom of years
From all walks of life and different creeds
We open our hearts and spread our seeds
This morning I’ve read about love so true
And why the streets gather crews
I read of how compassion should never die
And how nothing hurts worse than a lie
From good to bad and bottom to top
I’m an ex-con and he is a cop
But that’s all as irrelevant as it can be
For I am a poet and so is he
A cat sits on a chair
and hovers over me
as I lie in bed.
It’s December 31st
as a soft rain falls.
As I get up
I ask myself
if this is
an ending or beginning.
I’ve been back in town
full-time for five years
but embrace memories
of highways travelled
throughout the Midwest
when I worked
for road construction crews.
Now I’m left with my poems.
Bare limbs in the yard next door
wave and dance in the wind
beneath the cover of grey skies.
The cat brushes against me and mews
and I know it wants to be fed.
I take it downstairs
and fill a dish on the floor.
It eats in the kitchen while I call
my older cousin and we peer
into our younger lives.
When asked I said
if given the chance
I say
I’d live my life again.
Outside the window
rain has turned to snow
and the dormant yard
bears the change of weather.
I awoke one morning
It was incredibly bright
I drew back the curtains
To a most amazing sight
It was like we had two suns
Orange orbs, floating in the sky
The heat that was being emitted
I felt the atmosphere dry
I turned on the TV
It must be on the news
From where i stand
Surely I'm not the only view
Is it a phenomenon
Or nature playing her tricks
The camera crews are at NASA
Lets see what they make of it
Deep in outer space
An explosion we can't comprehend
Has sent a massive meteor
To our moon it's journey ends
Our world is now in peril
The Moon held us stable
Can us scientists do something
I'm not sure we are able
There will never be many times
When the whole world stopped and stared
But this is one of those times
We have every right to be scared
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-8.php
Swans - thrump-thrumping
practice take offs and landings
Geese honk
file flight plans
Muskrats build
mud and stick domes
Beaver maintenance crews
make ready
frogs retreat
while the mud is soft
Osprey screech
above naked woods
A doe follows
a scented path
Turtles secure
their mobile homes
A woodpecker
sends Morse code alerts
The ice shell
creeps
Winter exhales
across the pond
John G. Lawless
9/25/2020
In memory of all those who perished during the tragic events of September 11th 2001
and in honour of all those who risked or sacrificed their own life for the sake of others.
Sirens lament, a September song
Echoing sadness of memories so strong.
Prayers for the souls of those taken away,
Thoughts for their families, in our hearts to this day.
Evening came early, the night stayed so long.
Morning started so bright, but went tragically wrong.
Blue cloudless skies, the sound of a plane
Eternal reminders bring that day back again…
Remember it all, let it not be in vain
Emergency crews, just ordinary guys
Laid their lives on the line as hell rained from the skies
Every last one of them selfless and brave
Valiant heroes with one aim – to save
Each one forever remembered with pride
No hearts left untouched by the many that died.
There’s one lasting hope as the world now remembers
Heartfelt wishes that peace could arise from those embers.
**Written September 11th 2008**
Cars, fast and loud.
Racing around the track, exciting the crowd.
Drivers pass each other without any fear, while the fans in the stands
drink their beer.
Pit crews jump over the wall in a flash to change tires and give the
gas tank a splash.
Crew chiefs pray their drivers don't crash because at the end of the
race they could win big cash.