Best Leeward Poems
The pungence of heartbreak swelters
in the tangled dreadlocks of love-lies-bleeding
Take me somewhere exotic
to breathe not the foul aroma
of disappointment and despair
Show me fields laced with frangipani and orchids
in colors sweet and light as daydreams
Find me seafoam fields poppied
with pomegranate and honey
opium of jasmine lilting on a leeward drowse
delicious sift of sand drifting
warm and soft between my toes
as coral breezes court flamingo scapes
with pina colada suns
and I drift in and out of hibiscus euphoria
Let a mist of cockatoos flutter
in lapis skies puffed with fat feather clouds
parrots and toucans preening
like a rainbow shimmer
Tingle my pineapple senses
through the afterglow of mango afternoons
Create visions of paradise
in the cerulean of hyacinth
and never bring me back
Wonderful wonders woven within wild.
Titillates theatrical tender thoughts
Consistently creation, contrives conservation concerns.
Ecology evolves equations, entitling entities essence.
Empowering equality, enlarges existence.
Life lovingly leases Longevity.
Biodiversity braces, blatant brutal balding.
Deforestation, destruction devoid due definition.
People physically, plundering planet.
Prevalently procuring, products proscribed
Pilfering practices producing poisonous pollutants.
Greenhouse gases generated, generously grievous.
Temperate temperature’s tempers tumultuous.
Creating Climate changes, causing catastrophes.
Planet purges peril predominately.
Preached, placid platitudes, politicians podiums paced.
loved lives logged listed lost.
Lacuna languished, lessons least learnt.
Losing Life lingers, listing leeward lazily.
It was a good sailor God blessed me be.
In me veins be sea salts me heart pumps through.
I'le pray me Good Lord shall look after me
on dire crossing from port, to seas anew.
I'le trade not me fate to no man nor tide
in me marrow, sea brine me heart pumps through.
Me sheet be made fast to draft leeward side,
but this breeze too tight, for me ship to stand
yet I'le trade me fate to no man nor tide,
not to work a poor shop or plow on land
but sail this sea and a good sailor be.
This gale be too fat for her sail to stand.
A main mast crack, to be an end to me
to the bottom me ship and I'le may go
but fight this sea and a good sailor be,
it is all I've asked and enough to know.
It was a good sailor God tends me be
so be sea bottom me ship and I'le go,
even there me Good Lord looks after me.
No Anchor for Rancor
Wounded the ship of my soul,
With tattered sails,
Heels up in malevolence,
Venom puffs out the jib
In leeward grudges of tactless spite
On a pointless reach
Heading up into retaliation.
Heart hardened sends out a deep tap root,
Like a dagger board,
For my blustering hubris
To drop an anchor and moor animosity
In a portage of perpetual whirlwinds
With undertows of enmity
Crashing about in irons of spite.
Yet steady winds rise up
And I must come about
Heading into prevailing winds
Then journey through hubris doldrums,
Sails filled fresh with newborn winds,
Orphaning rancor - breathing in forgiveness -
Sailing beneath full sails of resurrection
All along the bent and angling coast
seaweed strands in sunken coves
abandon their beached forms
from wave to wave
I always chase after them
their strewn bobbing heads
roll as dead bodies
from wave to wave
What seaweed does not hide
short stories of unknown depths?
submarine worlds where time itself
folds into layered shelves
Under every rubbery leaf
striped then strung to tether in running bands
veins on my father's arm
long long ago
An unseen drift marks the sea's closing line
to leeward straits where I now stand
feet in the sodden growth soil
hand against the shaded bulb
A frothing whirlpool gathers all the seaweed
roped and braided in dulsing patterns
soft crests falling soundless into outstretched arms
then slap against the burying stone
Let it be recorded
my wish to live
where I can sleep
in good weather or bad
on a beach festooned
in the bric-a-brac
of the ages.
Perhaps a vanishing glow
far to the south
all that is left
of that common pestilence
known intimately
as a lifetime
of earthly dues
Now I am leaning with shoulders leeward
still eyeing the reef submerged
a ship's pilot
steering his vessel
beyond the shoals
victorious
to the open sea
From breath to breath
I exhale the plague
once tyrannical
against every stemming cell
once dominant
over every
pulsing heartbeat.
The sea now
lives inside my cells
where time itself
tunnels the sun
through woven matrixes
a surface below
tethered skin
I can only hope
as I fall into sleep
that I soon be awakened
to sea birds squawking
at something of interest
in the tumbling
surf
As little boys
we rode bikes
fast down the dunes,
on the vertical side
of Sand City
Big tires creased
deep furrows
in the down-slope,
same as boats trailing
wakes upon the swell
At the leeward portion
of the great sand hills
the long bronze
shadows of late noon
stretched to east
Meeting low pines
over ice plants
just as early suppers
smoked the spice
into mists above
Under which boys grew hungry
and boys grew weary
when drawn on-shore,
but grew bold again
when looking back to sea
Then fortified, soon returned
astride soft summits
as if to challenge
the long leading
boundary of night
A boundary against which
little boys are forbidden,
because bay breakers
rage half-seen
against the land
Because the turnstiles
of time get sand
in the gears and
the rising moon
comes fully into its own
Because the dawn sea
compresses foggy dimensions
into the unlearned territory
of young hearts
with full moon in the eyes
Of four-foot warriors
solemn in afterthought
huddled in a circle
as night overtook
a long day of handiwork
And even the bike furrows
grew silent at last
their contours to vanish
in darkening flatness
somewhere below our feet
Memories on Branches
There is a time that I recall
a memory I hold so dear
a place to keep my wandering soul
to find a God or use my mind
and search for peace outside the void
I found a cabin made of wood
and furnished it with only good
to lay in repose for a destined time
the face of Winter will arrive late
to allow me time to meditate
I walked outside my quaint abode
and felt the cold breeze in the air
covered branches of ice and snow
spreading its arms to say hello
my cheeks are red my sweater white
the sky began to cast a light
the sunshine came and smiled at me
the warmth on my face as an omen of love
that Spring will come to change the days
I sauntered in the early Spring
toward a leeward path where bluebirds sing
and apple blossoms here and there
bearing pollen for the bees to sate
and someday an apple will emerge
a natural friend in Edens field
the branches will sprout baby leaves
as children in a novice site and a raindrop
will nourish the promised land
anon to be joined by its brothers of Rain
Summers dew is in the morn
Sols hot hands have touched the earth
and fauna come to quench their thirst
and by the Water of Llfe I join their quest
to bath in its glory and drink from its gift
it beams on the lake a reflection of blue
and fish swim by a butterfly sits on a rose
to strike a pose for Currier and Ives
I’m overwhelmed by the sight
but I long for the coolness of the night
To rest on a branch and stare at the Moon
to await a new season that will be here soon
Autumn has come and has splashed its hues
from the color of leaves it has given the news
as they fall from their branches and lay on the ground
a tapestry of color is drawn in ocher, brown and red
I continue down the path with a same colored shirt
with loose fitting pants being held with a belt
I have blended with Nature and created a Psalm
a song for ages for I have become a beacon of light
a guide for all seasons to give me a sign
My memories have colors, sights, sighs and cries
and feelings of highs to see what can change
without fear or strife
as my world dissipates there is no fear of death
just an unending breadth of Life
© Ralph Sergi
( El Faro means the lighthouse)
El Faro #1
salt is in my tears
for the grace of god go I
Fiddlers Green awaits
El Faro #2
brothers and sisters
Joaquin cries tears of sadness
forever leeward
El Faro #3
El Faro now rest
sleep deep on your mothers floor
she has called for you
El Faro #4
no wave for granted
my heart is heavy today
listen to bells ring
El Faro #5
list fifteen to port
Edmund look for your cousin
hold fast the mid-watch
El Faro #6
no lighthouse to watch
irony not lost at sea
I long to hear you
El Faro #7
you believe in god
it pounds you like a hammer
green water swallows
El Faro #8
with culpability
I think of the storms survived
when resolve is breached
The siren shattered the silence of night
This signalled someone in distress
So out of bed I got and rapidly did dress
I rode down to the shore line
My comrades to meet
The wind was blowing strong
But out at sea a yachtsman
Was in jeopardy
Rapidly our boat was launched
Down the ramp to splash into the sea
The engine was roaring ,driving hard
The water picked by the wind into foaming waves
No time to consider the dangers that we faced
As toward the yachtsman forward we raced.
Our search light probing like a finger of light
Tried to pierce the darkness of the night.
Finally we saw the boat
Its mast broken, hanging limply in the raging sea
We called the yachtsman on the radio to tell of our intent
To fire a rocket, rope attached which he should secure,
We would then tow him from the rocks on the leeward shore
The rocket fired and rope secured we towed the boat,
To a harbour nearby, a tragedy averted, another grateful man.
We returned more slowly to where all this began
Teeter tottered between dock and boat
Boarded with a box of supplies
Security and radio check completed
Sounds of people chattering, horns beeping, and seagulls squawking
Sailboat untied
Drifted away from mooring
Engine engaged
Stern exchanged for bow and headed for horizon
Navigated through channel markers and out into open water
Engine killed and sail hoisted up mast
Sound of water lapping against boat
Sailboat bobbed and turned like a piece of driftwood on the ocean
Light reflected off of metallic objects on boat and turquoise water
Fully furled sails captured the wind
Boat lurched forward and sideways
White knuckle grip on silver plated wheel
Capsize averted by keel
Headed to skyline under captains command
White capping waves and powder-puff clouds seen to the limits of vision
Visibility clear for miles in every direction
Sounds of wind whipping sail and water rushing against boat
Loss of time
Distracted by enchantment
Coast line disappeared
Gripped with panic
Fear of the unknown
Swaying between civilization and solitude
Control regained with self-rationalization
Warmth of sun felt on face
Mesmerized by the sun painting on a canvas of light blue and aqua
Dropped sail and anchor on leeward side of a small island
Snow white sand and coconut trees swaying in the breeze
Dined with silence and serenity
Dolphins played at dusk
Moon rise with waves breaking reflection
Diamonds of heaven sparkling and some falling into the ocean
Gently rocked to sleep by calm dark water
A life on ships, a–sailing
A–rolling on the sea
Misspent days and misspent nights
Ol' Davey Jones and me
A wayward list, to starboard, boys
A leeward tack we found
We'll spend our days on the briny sea
And our coin in the Holy Ground
From first light, in the morning
I'm a willing Galley slave
Til well past evening, falling
From the cradle to the grave
The cabin boy, a-wailing
As we rounded, on the Horn
With half the crew, a-bailing
Wishing, they were never born
The pastors on his knees
In the throes of his contrition
While the rum, it flows with ease
On the road to our perdition
Six months, or more at sea, boys
On the mighty ocean swell
Til we chart our way back home, boys
And we'll drink our way, to Hell
A life on ships, a–sailing
A–rolling on the sea
Misspent days and misspent nights
Ol' Davey Jones and me
A wayward list, to starboard, boys
A leeward tack we found
We'll spend our days on the briny sea
And our coin in the Holy Ground
Though, drunken to the scuppers
Awakened on the foam
The merchant ship, 'Perdition'
I happily call my home
And when the cargo's lightened
And we're journeyed, homeward bound
With cheery hearts, and ocean charts
We'll reach, Cork harbour sound
We'll cry, with tears of laughter
Til we're so full of cheer
We'll raise the ale-house rafters
With whiskey, rum and beer
Though masters on the water
We're hopeless, while ashore
And when our purses empty, boys
We'll go to sea for more
A life on ships, a–sailing
A–rolling on the sea
Misspent days and misspent nights
Ol' Davey Jones and me
A wayward list, to starboard, boys
A leeward tack we found
We'll spend our days on the briny sea
And our coin in the Holy Ground
I’ve seen the seaman’s life around,
So, when I step on solid ground,
Where I’ve forgot how life self goes,
Who rules this world and how grass grows,
I have a feeling of distortion
Of everything to smallest portion,
And breeze that blows humans’ faces
Out to the ugliest grimaces
Again remind me days and nights
That being spent away from lights,
The cities’ smogs and women’s laces,
Were fulfilled with the Ocean races,
Night watches, squalls, and pitch, and roll –
To name a few to d*mn’em all!
The sunsets miles away from home
And countries hardly ever known
To those wasting lives ashore,
The highest tides and cheapest whores,
The destined ups-n-downs after
I only heard the Fortune’s laughter,
When everything that I could make,
Was my face’s smiling poor fake!
I do remember ships-n-captains,
The seamen’s dreams of life like sultan’s,
Drake’s Passage monster waves and waters,
Chinese typhoons and bloodshed slaughters,
The taste of salt upon my lips,
The Lord God’s mercy giving tips,
Sea spirit, zest and playful mood
That raise up right in neighborhood,
Yet frequent kicks and rare smiles,
Else shipborne deaths, officials’ files,
And - to complete this shortest list –
Dead leeward leak and starboard mist!
She was a 40 foot Bermuda-rigged sloop,
with linen sails a mahogany deck and
brass fittings; he took the east wind out
of Key Largo, as the dawn picked up the
spray and pitted his tanned face,
dolphins and flying fish, played with the hull,
trying to beat each other in a race to pierce
the blue brine: nothing was like this, and nothing
was like doing this, and a wry smile stretched the
flesh of his leathery face, now massaged by the
warm leeward-wind
the heat haze threw up mirrors at the hull sides,
mixing the dazzle of the ocean gaze with the press
of the impatient sea; it’s fecund smell and the glare
of the polished wooden deck, fired in to his senses,
mixing sounds, heat and water; a maelstrom of ocean
sense;
and then he and the boat, peeled off into the blue forest
of sea and sky,with a heading for Havana set.
I sat upon an old stump,
Nautical twilight swelling like dark cotton,
As brown leaves swirl'd in an autumn breeze,
Piling around my leeward boots,
A sound, good memory from childhood,
The sound only autumn leaves can make,
As they blow down a dusky street,
I take all that in, distracted,
As winter geese pass by overhead,
Long necked, vee formed,
Honking like commuters on the pike,
And my thoughts return like sparrows,
Winter chilled as always,
Like standing in the doorway of summer’s icehouse,
And stare into the windows of my home,
In the shadows of the yard like some midnight stranger,
Drawn to the light and noise as some wayward moth,
Made frantic by chemistry and discord,
Amaranthine bafflement of the love sheltered there,
My diamond geode,
Formed not from heat and pressure,
But plasma love,
My fluttered heart sandblasted,
Tortured by the juxtaposition of
Creating something to watch it die or,
Watching it become more than it was before,
While wishing to be one thing,
Unsure of who I’d need to be,
Unsettled by who I really am,
(Whoever that is),
And realizing that for all my self-immolation,
We’re all just playing at being grown up,
And this stump,
Just put a splinter in my ass.