Best Merchant Poems
A swallow swoops for flitting flies
While Johnny rubs exhausted eyes
(As morning clasps the rising sun)
Confirming Captain’s day’s begun:
Slow streams emerge from melting snows -
The Merchant Ship’s in stark repose...
As Johnny frets with tingling tongue
A Vulture fleeces fields far-flung
(Beneath a bleeding sun above),
And Captain culls the dead with love:
Yes, while the silent water flows,
The Merchant Ship just gulps and grows...
A serpent weaves amongst the weeds
As Johnny dares audacious deeds
(When evening drains the dying day)
To stop the Captain, come what may:
And while the raging rivers grow
The Merchant Ship rocks to and fro...
An owl, a’ branch, has teacup eyes
That glimmer dark as Johnny dies
(Now sown inside the future’s womb)
When flushing Captain to his doom:
Trapped in titanic undertow
The Merchant Ship’s swept down below...
A fledgling bird sprays morning dew
As Johnny Junior’s born anew
(He’s baptised in the dawn ablaze)
To rectify the former days:
Raw rills arise from melting snow
And virgin rivers start to flow...
Categories:
merchant, allegory, morning,
Form:
Ballad
Jane Merchant (2)
Invalid of flesh (but not of soul),
She saw Creation whole,
And hymned the seasons come to pass
Beyond her bedroom window-glass—
December trees—and April rain-wet grass.
~
Jane Hess Merchant was born in 1919 on a dairy farm outside of Knoxville. She was the
youngest of four children. Her family lived on farms in Knox County and Jefferson County
until she, her mother, and her sister Elizabeth moved to Knoxville after her father's
death in 1949. Jane was confined to her bed at age twelve due to the congenital bone
disease Osteogenesis Imperfecta, which made her bones extremely brittle and thus prevented
virtually all physical activity. Indeed, what little of the outside world Jane saw was
from her parents' arms when they carried her outside as a child. The same disease that
confined Jane to her bed also caused her to go deaf at the age of twenty-three. She lived
with her mother and sister Elizabeth, who cared for her until her death.
Although many people may have considered Jane to be hopelessly crippled and thus to be
treated as an object of pity, she was extremely active in the literary world until her
death on January 3, 1972. She wrote more than 3,000 poems, over 2,000 letters, dozens of
prose pieces, and published ten collections of her poetry. Jane did not consider herself
pitiful in any way: as the Reverend Gordon Sterchi put it at her funeral, "no one who knew
Jane pitied her or thought her life dreary. They understood that her life was more joyful
that their's [sic]. They realized that she saw more from the bed than they saw from the
boulevards."
Categories:
merchant, dedicationsister, world, age, age,
Form:
Verse
Moneylender
You were rejected by your fellow man
A pound of flesh to heal your wounded pride
A just reward for squelching on a loan
Your hatred toward these men-- I understand
Burns deeply in your heart and it resides
You were rejected by your fellow man
They bully you, so now you take a stand
Measured by Scale of Justice you supplied
A just reward for squelching on a loan
You make an honest living, better than
The ones who cruelly mock; cast them aside
You were rejected by your fellow man
Losing your daughter, ducats and your land
Upon the law of God you have relied
A just reward for squelching on a loan
To write you off as evil was the plan
They persecute and fool you with derides
A pound of flesh to heal your wounded pride
A just reward for squelching on a loan
Categories:
merchant, dedication
Form:
Villanelle
Deep ocean of azure blue
Overhead seagulls circling flew
In constant motion, heaving sides
The old merchant ship upon it rides
Rust scorched it's barnacled coat
Salt encrusted railings forever afloat
On the horizon's sinking sun's amber glow
Beckons enticingly along the flow
New moon appearing from out of the west
Silvery waves splintering against foamy crest
Figures emerging from the hold below
Peering skywards at the star studded show
Then into action to each their appointed task
Some heaving ropes, others mounting the mast
All working together to achieve one aim
To secure the sails aloft the bounteous main
A rumble of thunder and a flash lightening sound
Mountainous waves gather pace all around
Working in unison the crew now complete
All tasks meritorious as a well drilled fleet
A shout from the Captain, as the thunder roars
Urgently gesticulating "secure the oars"
Rain clashing as in sword play
Freeze drench they stand
As they see the top sail rend
Now all secured they disappear down
Below decks they ruminate
All worrying, no sound
Then vocal in assumptions from mate to mate
Until the Captain shouts "Silence no need for this din,
I shall calculate our bearings, now where to begin?"
Spreading out his charts he clears cups for a space
Each man concentrating, deep intent on each face
"Look Captain", one points "there's the Cape of Good Hope
enough time to manoeuvre and with luck stay afloat"
The temperature plummets and the crew mill around
No warmth except mittens and blankets draped around
The storm is abating and two bells is called
As each man takes turn to pump until hauled
Buckets of water overboard they keep on
Clearing sea water over gunnels, until all is gone
Ship breaking water all in it's wake
No matter the weather only headway to make
Dolphins leaping and diving below
Thoughts turn to seamen of long ago
Royal Navy Standards, a jolly jack tar
Plotting each course by the Northern Star
Pirate vessels hoisting their skull and crossbones
Biting winds moaning and pelting hailstones
Sailing ships with elaborate sails
Above the wind, sailors hearty hales
Anchorage sought and a comfortable berth
Homeward port reached and feet on the earth.
Categories:
merchant, adventure, sea, travel,
Form:
Free verse
My friend is shy, ‘cause we call her ‘Pumpkin’.
With great trepidation, she enters the gym
A look at her behind;
And the instructor declined.
“By the time ‘YOU’ are thin, fat will be ‘IN’”
Categories:
merchant, funny
Form:
Limerick
O Serenissima,*fabled city
guarding the bluest lagoon, remain
the Queen of the Adriatic Sea;
on a gondola I glide while
the gondolier sings to luminous stars.
Under bridges of moonlight,
mysteries increase by the dozen;
standing on the Bridge Of Sighs,
a fair-haired girl leans forward
blowing kisses to a gorgeous boy
who stops and smiles back tenderly.
On the topmast he awaits early daylight,
unfurled sails excite his spirit never
fraught. He looks back for a last time,
surroundings whet his curiosity;
behind him stand buildings of break
and stone that have endured time's fury.
The eastern sun comes up slowly,
he rubs his moist eyes and sighs;
his tall ship is ready to depart
for lands rich of exotic spices;
they will be traded for linen
textiles and beautiful glassware.
Months will pass, probably years,
a wrinkle or two will appear
on his sun-tanned forehead
beneath his fluttering red velvet hat;
he will think of Venice before sleep-
the sublime dream of a wealthy merchant.
* Serenissima: The most serene
Categories:
merchant, blue, city, dream, history,
Form:
Free verse
He was turbulent, fearful, and a dipsomaniac. He was dead to the target, undeniable emulation of his father. So I've been told.
Equated with many of his uneducated and socially stigmatized peers, starting at an early age he worked menial jobs until he married and asserted himself to a position on a cargo ship as a Merchant Seaman. So I've been told.
He traveled the world and had many long tales to share. Tales when spread made him a hero of many causes, and these inflated tales rein the peninsula and many compared him with John Henry and Jack Johnson. So I've been told.
He was a tall sepia man with a handsome face that was divinely chiseled to the image of Hermes. So I've been told.
He was a courageous bull that suffered his demise at the hands of his enemy. So I've been told.
He was a vigorous bear with broad shoulders that expanded forever like the Baeke plateau and was a comforting pillow for my weary head.
His legs when stretched out from a sitting position was a nuisance, a tripping device for a young child whose vision was aimed high when walking by.
He smelled of stale tobacco and Old Spice.
His tatami cheeks pricked fingers to the touch with delightful pain.
His long fingers with soil underneath its horny protective covering could move swiftly over finger plates of a saxophone or skillfully up and down the fretted neck of a guitar if he, so willed. Yet he titillated my ribs, under my arms and the soles of my feet.
His voice vociferated like thunder at his adversaries and changed to an astonishing softer degree when he called my name. This I know and so you are now being told.
copyright Labyrinth of Life
Categories:
merchant, father,
Form:
Narrative
Are money and blood not just signs,
Of vitality, of love, sex and family?
‘Cos your relationships should be stable,
By definition they should be believable.
Just being related by blood to someone,
Doesn't mean you love them in motion,
And so you must engender the pipers,
Of goodness: trust, dignity and emotion.
Your father should also be your role model,
To endorse your moral values and determination,
As your partner can never be purchased -
Only material goods and the home in earnest.
If he is not, then you should acquire,
The person of your character’s desire,
With whom you can recall and ruminate,
To discuss that which you do not hate.
Fortune, I'm sure, follows the genuine,
Those who upon valour and truth call,
Those who receive goodness and love,
In return, and not a religious scrawl.
Categories:
merchant, books, cheer up, family,
Form:
Rhyme
Time comes in waves,
People, in places.
Words come out of their shells
as true colours always change them.
God is given to glory,
to glory- destination lands in two:
In the right hand of a creature that has breached its reading code
And in the eyes of a teacher,
leading a school of fish back through the fundamental basics
The latter lathers loosely on linguistic intent
For intent is driven by lifeboats
that write the shores as landing in them,
just so.
The reader's digest delivers intelligence as notes on a keyboard;
Consequently who plays the creativity of the boats tends back to the reader
quite a mouthful
After all, people are people
True colours will drive them around the world.
How yesterday's conclusions reach tomorrow,
is a mere hum
lodged in the back of your throat.
Categories:
merchant, adventure,
Form:
Lyric
There was a merchant who sold and said: -
Milk, white milk, give me silk?
Honey, golden honey, give me money?
And
There was a man who shared and spoke: -
Wine, red wine, for all divine
Fish, grey fish, five thousandth dish
Bread, brown bread, arise the dead
07/04/2010
Categories:
merchant, faithme,
Form:
When in Spring with leaves turned to green
Eyes, hands & face
There lived one man with a thirst
To live in the moment between space & time
Selling his pots and pans to get by
Although the years would pass he had every reason to grasp
The true message of his heart was found in a book
Inside was filled with a deep look on dreams
Dark conclaves of dungeons with kings & queens
Deep demonic screams
Cray's from out of the belly of Hell
What a strange way of a story to tell
Howls in the village square piercing shrieks
All found in this merchant's handbook
It will make you think perhaps take another look
One day the merchant was working
He lost his book when he wasn't looking
Inside he kept a hundred dollar bill for keep sake maybe for a cheap thrill
Now the book was gone and so went his mind
He once could see but now he's blind
The merchant was a very timid man very kind
But now the madness ensued he was in a heavy bind
A reward was posted at the local post office
Over the course of time he would find a knock on his front door
It was none other but a local minister
inviting the merchant to his home for dinner
The merchant agreed to go and at the end of their great feast
The minister confessed and admitted
For he was the one who had stolen his handbook
Was very tempted to draw insight for his sermons
For the merchants case instead of outrage he was left in a haze
When he came to his senses he forgave him
Taking the book back, to his surprise
there was thosand dollars inside
The seed he had planted a time ago grew
He didn't really know what to do
Had bitten far more then he could ever chew
Next thing you know the merchant made a personal donation
To take a break on a long awaited vacation
Then he wrote in his book to finish his story
His book finally of dreams was bound for glory
Categories:
merchant, art,
Form:
Free verse
Fish flesh ceiling marinades evening in mandarin
Paprika streaks Alaskan sky, an exploded pumpkin
Garish stretch marks bruise tumid buttocks
Jack-o'-lantern flicker silhouettes summits
Door open draught steers me over masts, a compass
North chill Turmeric tingle bitterness burns sun jus
Snuffs frail wick candle into cavern skull sockets
Frigid fuselage discarded from flamboyant firey rocket
Hulls doubled on calm harbour curl fetal forget me not
Petal precious postcard sends rocking sleep to yachts
Resistant pristine peaks poke holes blood gush painful
Ski slid accident on apex restores pale flesh to angel
Pressed panes mist to witness her wings in awe, glory!
Nest of pick up sticks prickle, due dusk warns me
Crept shadows of chalets' thatched porches protect
Navy as battle ships torn apart, needle inks inject
Categories:
merchant, allusion, animal, bird, red,
Form:
Couplet
Love is not a merchant
it doesn't keep count
it's not how much or what
but why and how it counts
Better dandelions
from heart of love
than diamonds
from heart of stone
Third Place Winner - Jack Webster: Workshop Adjectives Deleted
Categories:
merchant, love,
Form:
Free verse
Now, I suspect the economics teacher
But he suspects me and
The case goes on into the term
As we gently move
From one story to another
But I've got all the other plays, so they look good
Break time and lunch time
Offer time for time to call witnesses
Or suspects one by one
They file in looking confused and disconcerted
Like ordering a sandwich in a trench coat
Tripping out and seeing floating cheese
I'm trying to engage in a conversation
I'm trying to teach with a blocked ear
Zedonks and why IKEA has no windows
That play's rubbish anyway.
Categories:
merchant, analogy, april,
Form:
Free verse
5 cups of heavy cream
3 cups of pureed shrimps
2 cup of crawfish
2 cups of crab meat
1 1/2 cup of cooked polish sausage( minced)
5 cups of chicken stock
1/2 cup of olive oil and flour roux( 1/2 c of flour and 1/2 olive oil cook tannish brown)
2 tablespoons of cayenne pepper
1 cup of sauteed onions
1 cup of minced celery
1 cup of red bell pepper
1/4 cup of chopped garlic
1/4 cilantro
1/2 cup of lemon juice
1/4 sherry
in a pot add roux and garlic and vegetables,
bring to a simmer
add sausage, shrimp, crab, crawfish
add sherry
add stock and allow the stock to thicken
add cream and remove from the heat.
serve with egg noodles or rice and yeast rolls.
Categories:
merchant, adventure, culture, fish, food,
Form:
Ballad