Best Mainsail Poems
He stands upon the salty,slippery deck,
Yelling yaargh matey ,
with a halfhearted pirate drawl.
He's not to impressed with himself,
not an eyepatch or wooden leg,
not even a hooked claw.
The parrot on his shoulder,
is a wannabee,
a sparrow that fell from the Crowsnest,
from high up above.
It has no quips ,or spikes,
or pirate quotes,
just nesting on his shoulder
with birdly kind of love.
Aye captain the crew responds,
snapping to their chores.
Tend the wheel ,lash the mainsail,
take the soundings
less we hit a reef.
The sea going life is not for every man,
walking the plank,storms and rickets.
Crabs in your knickers ,
really give you grief.
Aah but when the wind fills the sails to bursting,
yards of canvas strain to be free.
And the ropes play ,sea going music
of a tension melody.
A song that captures
every young buccaneers heart ,
and soul and fancy.
For the music of the wanderers life,
an endless expanse of blue,
bravehearts and fearless men find,
quite a bit too chancy.
Black Beard,Yellow Beard,
the famous Captain Blood,
were all fearless pirates of their day.
He truly knows that he can be,
a great one too.
If he could ever find that bleeping map,
and escape this landlocked bay.
Categories:
mainsail, adventure, funny, imagination, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The trip was a riot of color,
It brings a myriad of queries,
Fantastic tales of utter darkness,
Views' visible roots were explored.
Mainsail surges,
pungent froth carried wave tips while,
blast swings moaning openly.
superb mountains,
Convey streams into streaming rivers,
Down slants shrouded in woods.
And the majesty of the stars,
Is confronted every morning,
Under soft white clouds,
is with each foot I set down.
I relish the quiet of the sound,
how each slant embraces,
the still raw bay.
Home to unglaciated cervids,
Gnawing animals and polar bears,
Willow grouse, deer,
Also, the renowned Chinook Salmon.
More genuine than the Arctic flow,
Afar-off state refuted,
In both word and deed,
Anyhow of these ever tender wishes.
Atop mottled strands,
I let my emotions air dry,
Orange tulips were selected,
I regained faith; I can fly.
5Th Place Contest Winner
Written: June 18, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Categories:
mainsail, analogy, appreciation, mountains, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Sails flick while chattering
To the wind deciding
How to best throw itself
Into its arms.
Port rocks to starboard
And back again
While I'm throwing my insides
Over the rail into the sea.
Mainsail catches and off we go
Pushed along by nothing
Except the breath of the sea
My stomach as a sacrifice.
The water decides most things
And today to swell and fall
Bucking like a horse.
It's just the risk you take
When you let her be herself.
Categories:
mainsail, boat, nature, sick,
Form:
Free verse
Eyes of light beams pierce ocean air
as Neptune rests within his lair.
Sentinels hand-made of stone,
that keepers used to call their home;
guide travelers, sailors on their way
a lovely sight both night and day.
Though today they’re automatic,
once someone ascended to their attic;
to turn on the light and keep it oiled
so harbor and bay had no wrecked spoils.
One’s orientation was not lost,
though about the seas ships were tossed.
For the Lubber’s lines worked their magic,
in preventing any shipwrecks, tragic.
Rough navigation the lighthouse soothed,
making for a landing smooth;
ships reached port abandoning fears,
when to the lighthouse they drew near.
So thank the gracious hand that built them,
for your cruise won’t end up grim.
Hoist that mainsail with great joy,
as light to night seas they employ.
These lonely specters in tribute stand
towering testaments to ingenuity of man.
Categories:
mainsail, appreciation, nature, ocean, poems,
Form:
Rhyme
Cold rains, wet and weary... seeping through the sky,
spectres pass ’long side me... bent, with collars high,
my visions are invisible and no one sees me cry.
Minstrels of destruction... rapping at my door,
naked anvils aching... heavy hammers roar,
their monodies of emptiness pulse, bleeding through the floor.
House of cards collapsing... sagging walls of wax,
deuces in dissension... aces slip through cracks,
the Joker’s lost and lumbers by, alone, along the tracks.
Steeple steps dismantled... muted bells below,
ruins quake and tremble... frozen in the snow,
their pains implode within my brain while pale winds cruelly blow.
Prophets tumble temples... residues of tea
highways of no entrance... paths of destiny,
where phantoms haunt my nightmare dreams, tell tales of roaming free.
Foghorns moaning lonely... waves awash in sound
silver schooner sinking... swirling round and round,
at midnight’s stroke, the mainsail broke, and driftwood drifts aground.
Silent seas misshapen... moonbeams painted rum,
teaspoons sifting ashes... fingers cold and numb,
an incandescent candlestick’s impaled the sinking sun.
Smothered fires smoking... oceans filled with ice,
lightning lashing windows... blades from paradise,
like tongues of limpid laughter licking wounds of sacrifice.
Flowing fields of flowers... silent harmony,
rolling river reveries... washing to the sea,
my love, she was my daylight bliss, she once belonged to me.
Categories:
mainsail, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
When I saw Richard last
Sailing the Winds of Change
His mainsail unfluraled by Whisper
With a Siren's song in range
The melody sweet like wine
Of love's long lost refrain
While the Saint danced upon the rigging
His face full of Neptune's Reign
A voyage is filled with peril
Each league and nautical mile
A journey of self discovery
Etched upon a dolphin's smile
The voyage nears it's destination
The vessel hull splintered wood
A question posed unanswered
Did he do all he could?
Categories:
mainsail, psychological,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Barco do Boa Vista 2
Windswept, worn and weary sails
You might think that this boat ails
But with sound and sturdy, solid mast
She sails the ocean's waves at last
There was one here not long before her
But she sailed away to who knows where
Perhaps the Pirates thought they had the right
To slip her moorings in the dead of night
All they left was her shell lifeboat
Cast ashore though she could still float
Solitary, washed high on the beach
Out of water, out of reach
So a vessel more seaworthy
Was carved and built for all to see
Ready to sail the ocean blue
Ride trade winds with verve anew
The lifeboat too was hauled aboard
Made shipshape, to go abroad
With its own tiny mast and sail
Lashed to the deck with a rusty nail
There's not much calico along this coast
To make a sail, so we made the most
Of what there was ready to hand
What was found on rock and sand
So with part mainsail from a sheet of wood
And tattered foresail flapping as best it could
Into the wind she made her bearing
Casting aside risk with daring
She knew her stays were strong and taut
To take more sail as they ought
But now she's ready to sail with the tide
The seven seas and far and wide
Barco has sailed, her voyage made
But now another's anchor's weighed
So all take heed and observe well
Another boat's on the ocean's swell
Categories:
mainsail, art, beach, fantasy, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
I am a young man, to Nantucket I've traveled
never before have I been out to Sea,
here in the Harbor, I've spotted the Pequod
I knew then and there, that ship was for me,
Ishmael is my name,I was a Teacher
Queequed my friend, best harpooner on board,
the man they call Ahab, well he is the captain
you can bet he will see to it we're never bored,
Here! here! drink a toast to our Captain,
Hey mister fiddler, come play us a lick,
Here! Here! have your harpoons to ready
when we see the white whale that they call Moby Dick,
The captain's on deck, we can all hear him walkin
with his old wooden leg,thanks to one great White Whale,
he calls for attention, as he calls us to forward
he points to his leg, as he tells us the tale,
A fifty dollar gold piece, is nailed to the mainsail
for the harpooner, when the white whale he kills,
then the man in the crows nest , says yo I can see him
into the longboats where we test our skills,
Here! Here! drink a toast to our Captain
Hey mister fiddler, come play us a lick,
Here! Here! have your harpoons to ready
when we see the white whale that they call Moby Dick,
The Captain he is restless, and takes to a longboat
we had three harpoons in, he was pullin us slow,
when the eye of that whale, caught sight of the Captain
he came about and he started to roll,
He went straight for the longboat, that carried the skipper
locked in his eye, as he started to blow,
raised out of the water, near forty foot outward
down they both went, to Jones' locker below,
Here! Here! drink a toast to our Captain
Hey mister fiddler, come play us a lick,
Here! Here! have your Harpoons to Ready
when we see the White Whale, that they call....
Moby Dick!
copyright 2011 Rd Pickett
Categories:
mainsail, adventure, drink,
Form:
Lyric
Cast off the mooring ropes at bow and stern
Head out into the early morning mist
Hoist the big mainsail, free the jib, and turn
Feeling the filling canvas make her list
The venerable diesel chugs and splutters
Its smoky wraith lingering in our wake
We weave our way between sloops and cutters
Cleaving across crests beginning to break
Waves slap the hull and slither down the deck
We've left the strident seagulls far behind
The lighthouse beam pales as we pass the wreck
Whose rusting iron ribs still groan and grind
We round the point and catch the tidal flow
Astern, a fresh Force 4 lends us its wings
No engine needed now. I go below
And listen to the sounds that silence brings
An inner peace surfaces in this calm
Quietly floating all one’s stress away
Silence with stillness - a heavenly balm
That heals the damage of each crazy day
I go up top and breathe in salty air
Now, far away from the jostling crowds
I adjust my eyes to the sun’s bright glare
And scan the horizon - there are no clouds
Categories:
mainsail, boat, feelings, ocean, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Retrieved Passage 6:
From The Book of Days - The Cellar
Don't send me down to the cellar
I swear I won't do it again
lest my sanity goes inter-stellar
and I beat myself senseless in vain
Don't send me down to the cellar
there are things there that scuttle and crawl
there are gnomes there that sing a capella
and an evil old troll in a shawl
There are heebies and jeebies aplenty
who leave trails of slime on the stairs
and their brains are undoubtedly empty
and their long arms have unsightly hairs
So leave me my cape and umbrella
and my half-eaten poems of woe
don't send me down to the cellar
nurse, not again, let me go!
Retrieved Passage 7:
Overboard
"Potato Overboard!"
Came the loud mid-shipman's cry
the Potato King had fallen in
we hung him out to dry
dangling from the mainsail mast
festooned with swaying weeds
it cured his hangover quite fast
it usually succeeds
"Oh Your Majesty"
said his fair queen, in dismay
the gulls had eaten both his socks
and took his wig away
he was a spud of rangy height
wall-eyed, with lantern jaw
but now he was a sorry sight
as many times before.
"Potato Overboard"
was a common cry, those days
We never cured His Majesty
of rabid dipso ways
he would fall into bouillabaise
cow troughs, and out of ships
and always buy up hard liquor
on foreign shopping trips.
Retrieved Passage 8:
The Hour of Cool is Nigh
I came to chill
I came to mellow down
I came to groove about in a yellow gown
hey man, I want to shimmy like a yak
this is the hour I have my cool attack
I came to chill
I came to croon for lurrve
I came to give coolness a helping shove
hey maestro, hit the bass and timpany
this is the funk hour, in the Name of Me
Dressed to thrill
I came to chill this town
to say "one has to get up to get down"
I came to watch the bumble bees go by
hey give it up, the Hour of Cool is nigh.
Categories:
mainsail, crazy, deep, gothic, humor,
Form:
Ballad
My love on the surf
I can’t stop the wave
Of two hearts in a crush
Earth and fire in a splash
Sunset in her eyes
Sparkling love rays
In the arms of a sea breeze
Blowing her wildest dreams
The beach is a towel
Dry passion our smile
Wet hair rides the spark
Of wet lips in the dark
Diving like a submarine
Lightning sparks the horizon
Dazzling a silky moon dance
Summer rain in a glance
Hearts on love’s turf
Dressed in a crashing wave
The sea is dyed red
In the mainsail we’ve fled
My love on the surf
I can’t stop the wave
Of two hearts in a crush
Earth and fire in a splash
Categories:
mainsail, beach, love, summer,
Form:
Lyric
And once upon a journey made
did I first ride the wind
far from the scented verdant glade
with mainsail fully trimmed.
The salted sea is memory,
my days of sail long passed,
where death was bound by destiny
to vacant shores so vast.
I feel a surge of heat within
this aged shell so cold;
a mind and body born to win
whose beauty has grown old.
But once abundant youth did thrive
on passion's purest dreams
where eros was the truth alive
and Siren's sung her themes.
A gift the gods cannot evade
and I shall not rescind
when once upon a journey made
did I first ride the wind.
Categories:
mainsail, seajourney,
Form:
Ballad
Hoist
the Jolly Roger
atop the mainsail
we're heading
for Bermuda
with the wind
on our tail.
Categories:
mainsail, humor,
Form:
Free verse
There has never been a time since
Societies emerged,
In any generation where
Communities diverged.
Mankind is like the animals
Who gather into herds;
Proving he is no different
Than mammals, fish and birds.
It isn’t easy to accept,
But we can see what’s true.
If we investigate the facts,
And what applies to you.
Societies create guidelines
On how to look and act,
They tell us what is beautiful,
Acceptable in fact.
They convince us that our choices
Are made by us alone.
So we live with the illusion
That our will is our own.
We follow what is popular,
What helps us play our roles.
We even let society
Shape our dreams and goals.
What you think makes you different
Is nothing of the kind.
People who follow earthly trends
Don’t think with their own mind.
Look at that bellybutton ring,
Tattoo, or gothic style.
It’s evidence, provided for
Society’s profile.
You workout to shape your body
And fit the latest rage.
But all this effort does for you...
Is put you in a cage;
Along with all the other sheep
Who follow current trends.
If we were individuals,
Would we look like our friends?
For individuality
Will sail against the wind.
No gale created by its peers
Can make its mainsail bend.
Yet most are like the stars above,
Too many to number.
The vastness of the universe
Drives the soul to slumber.
And it is not until the flesh
Has withered on the bones,
That man can see that he’s been lost
Upon a sea of clones.
And when he finds that clarity,
At last he’ll understand;
The mountains that he feared to climb
Were only grains of sand.
They cry out with their final breath,
As they drift to the sea;
But youth pays no attention to
The old society.
Our understanding comes too late,
For time is moving swift.
A new society is born,
As generations drift.
And I can’t help but wonder if
You’ll also drift that far,
Before you sail against the wind,
And find out who you are.
Categories:
mainsail, life, philosophy, socialtime, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
Britain sets sail to find a deal.
A lengthy voyage now starts.
The captain plots the way ahead
with complex EU charts
from the Maritime Directive
in all its ninety parts.
Oh what a frightful sea to sail
to reach the land called Brexit Deal.
They cast off in a steady breeze;
the crew are well rehearsed.
But soon a storm is getting up
and brings a mighty gust.
The mainsail now has been ripped free
and flaps around the mast.
Oh what a frightful sea to sail
to reach the land called Brexit Deal.
And then with further buffeting
the rudder starts to fail.
A calm follows; they do repairs.
Now fixed they can set sail.
The ship and crew ready to go
but now stuck in a lull.
Oh what a frightful sea to sail
to reach the land called Brexit Deal.
Next day there comes a steady breeze
which clears them from doldrums.
And now they start to speed along
as then a trade wind comes.
With these changes the captain must
recalculate the sums.
Oh what a frightful sea to sail
to reach the land called Brexit Deal.
Categories:
mainsail, confusion, courage, destiny, international,
Form:
Ballad