Best Helmsman Poems
“Over there,” yelled the Helmsman
“On the Starboard side.”
Though when I looked from left to right
Nothing caught my eye
“Over there,” he yelled again
“On the starboard side.”
And again as I looked from left to right
Nothing caught my eye
But I knew when I saw her
For she was not water nor was she beast
That she had come upon us
To rest us all in peace
Her fingers rattled the rigging
As all hands fought to stow the cloth
The helmsman lashed himself to the wheel
We faced the worst of her wrath
Then she brought the main-mast down
The crow’s nest crashed upon the deck
Fear eclipsed all conscious thought
For we floated upon a wreck
Our lives so fully in the hands
Of nature’s primeval fury
We prayed to our mystical gods
For their heavenly mercy
Lo she ignored our desperate pleas
As she drove us beneath the waves
Relaxed and confident she left us
To our watery graves
Then the helmsman free from his shackles
Pulled us with all his might
Dragged us by our sodden collars
Toward the watery moonlight
The helmsman of defiant strength
Pulled us with all his might
Through our aquatic graves
To freedom’s shining moonlight
I starts me life as pirate,
A grommet before age twelve,
Not an ordinary bandit,
High sea adventures me delve.
With a Letter of Marque in me han’
And the Commodore for me pa!
I spends dogwatch near the helmsman,
Nerey missin’ me bonny ma.
Old salts tell their gory tales,
Aye, dogs hanging from the gallows.
Punishments for a man who fails
Floggings or keelhaul; blood bath follows.
Scrimshaw hangin’ ‘round me neck.
A privateer by trade,
Flaunting booty on the deck
We’s the scallywags brigade.
Pirateering is me heartthrob.
I dreams schemes in the crows nest.
‘bout takin’ swag from an unfortunate swab.
I sits watchin’ pa from the crest.
Long nines aimed and ready,
Jolly Roger on the mainmast,
Headway fast and steady,
The enemy’s fate forecast.
One for all and all for one!
Drinkin’ grog an’ eatin’ grub.
Werkin’ on the “Morning Sun”
Me father at the hub.
Davy Jone’s locker, me final plight!
Death drifting in me beloved sea –
Straightway from the dark of night
The pirate’s life for me!
© July 15, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Beyond this space called here and now where hopes are often lost;
across the seething sea of time where dreams are tempest tossed,
there lies a haven well desired to gain at any cost;
to lie at anchor there will be worth all the waters crossed.
The port is gained by following a narrow path, we know.
Many ships have run aground on reefs of sin and woe.
Sound the waves and fathom out the deeps that lie below,
and guide your ship to safety, watching ever for the foe.
In that haven time will cease; the sea shall be as glass,
and all the evils known to man will in the depths be cast.
No parting and no weeping, heartaches, too, will pass
for joy will reign on every ship whose tow line is made fast.
Put forth all effort, then, to reach that harbor through the foam;
cease seeking for the pleasure isles that call the soul to roam.
Mark the charts with vision clear by heaven's starry dome;
make Christ your helmsman; through thickest fog He made that harbor home.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987
I am the captain of my ship
Sailing uncharted oceans
I am the captain of my mates
To whom I owe devotion
Sailing we on mounting waves
Awash, unconscious, unafraid
Sail we over counting days
A voyage of dreams that we have made
Helmsman turnabout I say
Were charting a new course
Fortune fills our sails today
Destiny’s our force
Believe in you, believe in me
A rhythm that is true
Focus on your star that shines
And get there with your crew
I am the captain of my ship
Sailing uncharted oceans
I am the captain with my mates
To whom I have devotion
©dbyrne Nov 2013
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
Story: http://www.sloveniatimes.com/total-mess-in-state-owned-capital-asset-management
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
I remember back when times were simple. You could have your milk
delivered to your door. One of my favorite memories was waiting for the
Helm’s bakery livery to drive slowly down our street, alerting us with his
musical whistle. Specially built Chevy suburban panel wagon’s, bright
and shiny yellow, contained the most heavenly scents of do-nuts and
cinnamon swirls, rolls and breads to delight the most discerning. Our driver,
we called by name, would stop, get out of his seat and come to the back to
open double doors to the smiling faces, of usually about three or four neighbor
kids besides my sister and myself. The most difficult part was trying to decide
what delicious pastry we would put on our monthly tab. Fine wooden drawers
with glass windows let colorful do-nuts peek through. We would get our usual loaf
of potato bread mom would tell us to buy, but then, quite often we were treated to
a glazed jelly do-nut or a chocolate covered cream filled éclair. Mmmmm my taste
buds tingle at the fond memories. Those succulent delights would be out of the bag
and into our mouths before we hit the front door. By the time we got inside all that
would be left would be little pieces of sticky wax paper and our gooey little hands.
As I recall those happy memories of the late ‘50’s, my only regret is that I am sorry my
children were not given the thrill of hearing “Here comes the Helmsman”, let’s beat feet!
© September 12, 2012
Braving stormy seas
Lone helmsman-up to the task
Old Leviathan
As they were sailing ‘cross the ocean deep
They watched the sunrise and the diving grebe.
When up in the top, the lookout did spy
A storm advancing, with his weather eye.
The helmsman heeded the word from above
And steered the walty gal forth at a scud.
Night tide came fast and they were flooded by dark,
The waves surged and the salty, sea dogs barked.
The raw wind cut and the rain assailed down,
As men pooled together to fight off the drown.
The dodger succumbed, and the foremast fell
The ship was immersed in the maritime hell.
As dawn broke, with only waveson afloat.
The ocean had seized another game boat.
Good men will be mourned, and the tempest damned,
We left to ponder why they left dry land.
"over the waters blue the night winds sigh, the breakers roar”...Lord Byron
I love to be upon the sea
When’er the tides are high
For rough sea does not bother me
Or thunder of the sky
Of this maybe you wonder why
It’s just the way I am
Unafraid and so brave am I
I’m Simple Sailor Sam.
Sailing along I sing with glee
Until the night is nigh
A time to rest this busy bee
To acquire earned shut eye
How quickly time goes floating by
I’m not a lonesome man
As my adventures keep me spry
I’m Simple Sailor Sam.
There’s lots to explore o’er the sea
Dolphins come to say Hi
With acrobatics that cheer me
As I am sailing by
For scenery I have the sky
A gift to an helmsman
Such a jolly sea dog am I
I’m Simple Sailor Sam.
So my hearties please do not cry
I do the best I can
Roaming raging tempests am I
I’m Simple Sailor Sam.
Brutust Iulius Trois Page 07
Brutus called his captains into conference
we are done with creeping along the shorelines
prepare now to sail out across the Aegean
the winds are with us and Troy awaits!
Imogen seeing Hesione, ceased weeping
Hesione, were you happy with your lot?
was Telamon a better fate than Neptune's dragon.
So you are returned home having reclaimed your veil
So Priam is again Podarces and the serpentine Cetus awaits.
With the dawn the Trojan fleet finally sailed out.
Guardian dolphins leaping alongside in sunrise
Sped on by Aeolus, the windy son of Neptune
For Neptune had been placated by Brutus
by his offerings and by his vows
happy to be headed homeward the Trojans sang
composing happy ballads about Brutus
his triumphal return of the Trojans to Troy
of the golden lives he was leading them to
so the sunny days of the crossing passed
The fleet of Brutus sailed past the foggy isle of Tenedos in the last hours of night.
gliding over Neptunes's golden palace, the Aegean glowing with Salacia's lights
raced they toward the ness, the headlands of the Helespont
Suddenly from the fog came, Alarms, cries, clamor, the clash of iron
Sol's opening eyes revealed a Thracian pirate attacking a Phoencian
Tossing bodies overboard feeding the lesser cetus the sharks of the sea.
With his own battle cry Brutus took what was to hand and threw it.
as Nauta the helmsman steered into the fight
Tossed like a weapon Hesoine's amphora burst upon the Thracians
spearing them with shards as her black ashes coated the sea
clogging the gills of the lesser cetus who dived deep
deep and away from all of the disturbance.
As the ships came together the Trojans boarded the Thracian trireme
swords slashing stabbing slicing as they bloodily slayed the pirates
Imogen left behind looked away looked down upon the water
only she saw Hesoine's ashes transform into a sea dog
a great grey seal that swam to the beach of Cynossema
finding shelter beneath the shadow of Hecuba's empty tomb.
Someone said, “Now you’ve turned forty-,
What have you learned?
Your experience must be varied,
Your fingers quite burned.
You must’ve gone through troubled times,
Of disappointments you’d’ve quite a share;
But how does life’s learning
For your future prepare?”
I looked at my questioner
With a baleful and gloomy stare,
Not with anger or reproach;
There was no fire in my glare.
“Life, son,” I told him,
“Is what is learnt alone,
All advice from others
Is crumbs to a beggar thrown.
It’s what one takes out of life
That matters much more.
One’s own experience is what counts,
Go, knock on it’s stubborn door!
I’ve been sitting where you sit,
Asked the same riddle as you do;
But was pointed out a direction
And left to steer a course that’s true.
The helmsman determines the course,
The rudder needs control;
It’s how you determine your goal
And steer from the treacherous shoal.
So don’t ask of experience,
Test the waters on your own;
Find a guiding star to steer by
Don’t wait for it to be shown.
And when you, too, turn forty-
Think back and count your deeds –
The path you’ve trod is well behind,
Look ahead, move on, you’ll know where your future leads!
PASSIONS
On the deck of his life’s boat
In a state of confusion
Was he sitting
Gazing at the horizon of
The unknown
Dark clouds of doubt were hovering
In his puzzling mind
His thoughts in disarray were venturing into a labyrinth
Of faint speculations
The dilemma was his, knowing not where to go
The roads of virtue and that of vice before him
They stood:
Equally appealing
Equally accessible
Equally demanding!
He tried to pierce the veil of life’s mystery
With his wondrous, enquiring eyes but
Every effort is a sound failure:
The riddle persists
The obscurity endures
The enigma remains.
Impatience enters now his troubled psyche and
Horrid panic becomes his constant companion.
Suddenly, his choleric aimless, and violent passions
Snatched the rudder of his life’s boat in their needy:
For control
Hungry for rule and
Thirsty for power
Arrogant, reckless hands and
In their eagerness to rule over his
Disorientated mind, enslaved
Reason: The illuminated helmsman
Hand-cuffed love: The tender-hearted captain and
Tortured understanding: The knowledgeable pilot and
Threw overboard benign compassion and
Holly mercy.
Shortly after, the humane crew of lofty virtues,
Subjugated to the newly established tyranny was:
Ruthlessly deprived of its power
Violently derailed from its course and
Brutally twisted in its meaning,
To fit passions’ newly adapted schemes,
Of infamy
Of turmoil
Of inconsideration and
Of shameful vice.
Then, as the sails of vanity and blind temptations
Opened wide and
The craven wind of uncontrollable urges rushed to
Swell them with corrupt impetuous desires,
His shaky boat unguided drifted to the open rough sea
Of self-destructive indulgence,
Through the hurricane of obscure ignorance,
Towards the perilous sterile rocks of despicable lust
Where it crashed and sank into the abyss of filthy appetites,
In the graveyard of lawless souls at which
Murky desperation eternally reigns!
Ah, if only he had chosen the path of virtue!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
18 January 2013
Some time
before the biped thought
of history, he carved out image
of himself, and in the murky dawn
of consciousness, began to look around
to see just how he fit, and how it was
that he had come to be; he wiped the drool
from off his chin and then exclaimed prophetically,
"My God! I am alone out here. How can it be?"
And thus, his magnum opus, "Genesis"
(his first, obviously) appeared
beneath his stubby fist upon the stone,
a quasi-answer from his mallet
and the thought-begat Divinity,
and all the brethren cried, "Amen."
But they were faithless fellows
and a few millenia beyond,
Big Bang appeared, extruded from
the pangs of yet another womb—
happily dubbed intellect by some,
and leaving others
with their wounded vanities
to wonder what had taken place
before old Father Time
had set the fuse afire.
It could not have been desire;
a lonely God who needed
toys and subjects, will not wash,
and leaves us at the helm
without a helmsman...poor Adam
sputters, cries, and from his fire
before the cave removes a blackened stick
to mark his nascent words upon the wall,
enjoins his deity to silence
while he writes, "In nomine Patri...."
as the spirit and the son look on,
content awhile, to wait.
~
_________________________
Start your anchor boat steersman
Sun declines in the west
The new wife awaiting
on the near bank
Hope to return to own land
That free air
unbound movements
The rice cake and
Cares of blood.
Go, boatman!
She is lonely
Maybe she is crying
To back home;
To forget old memories
Maybe the husband left her
She is surmounting a difficulty
Cross the river safely helmsman
She has to reach her lap
She needs love again
Injustice is the legacy of man
It is the tainted ground on which he stands
Do not put your trust in earthling man
Why, he cannot wield his mundane lifespan
So what do we do with our earthy divan
This copious globe of purpose and plan
When all the media flaxen flames do fan,
And there is no trusting a robed clergyman
When half the country hates a family man
His replacement backed by the Ku Klux Klan
We cannot put our trust in earthling man
So put your faith in the Higher Helmsman