Best Sealing Poems
The Bass Strait sealing rush began in eighteen-o-three,
where at least a dozen vessels were wrestling with the sea,
for the China trade was booming, for the want of skins and oils.
This was the first real export, from Australian soils.
With prices high as gold, more entered in the Strait.
Ships joining in the rush, from India, France, U.S.A.
Sea Elephants roaming King and the nearby islands,
soon disappeared as the buccaneers cut the big herds down.
Cutters, brigs and schooners, dared through mist and haze,
as the cut-throats, thieves and pirates, plied their bloody trade.
With-in a loose alliance they colonized the islands,
along the southern coast in the Bass Strait sealing days.
Governor King encouraged sealing, for its productive article,
though he couldn’t find an answer when the French entered the cull.
When the ship ‘Surprise’ was wrecked, the crew died in the water.
The governor he wrote, ‘this may stop advances from this quarter’.
Commandant Bowan who controlled Tasmanian land settlement,
underhand from an American, four hundred pounds to his pocket went.
Delano was prepared to pay for the fortune he would rend.
The commandant gave an extra lift - seventeen Botany Bay men.
New sealing grounds were found in the late of eighteen-o-three.
Kangaroo Island produced thousands to be stored way up in Sydney.
Eleven men on the ‘Antipodes’ slaughtered ‘til o-five,
where sixty thousand skins were loaded - a record for all time.
Labourers they left the land for their fortunes to be made.
Boarded the ‘Union’ or the ‘Pilgrim’ - any boat that’s in the trade.
Now Governor King was turning as new problems showed their face.
So many men had left the land with no one to take their place.
monologue
Sealing died hard in Bass Strait. By seventy-one the trade for skins faded away.
The need for seal oil disappeared and now today, seals are protected.
A long haul away from the days back when -
Cutters, brigs and schooners, dared through mist and haze,
as the cut-throats, thieves and pirates, plied their bloody trade.
With-in a loose alliance they colonized the islands,
along the southern coast in the Bass Strait sealing days.
" Our Sealing Band "
If I could be anything
during this short life
before I pass and die
I would want to be a tear
beautifully being born
within your pretty eye.
To live down your cheek
slowly growing and flowing
as you begin to cry
then to be licked by you
from your upper lip
as I slowly die.
If I could chose anything
to be while in this life
wanting to do my part
I want to be the rhythmic beat
gently pounding
of your precious heart.
Pulsing all through your body
giving you your life
would be my ultimate pleasure
there could be nothing else
ever coming close
nothing could ever measure.
If I could do anything
in this short life
to show I really care
I would want to fill your lung
with the necessary
life giving breathing air.
I would gently fill your lungs
so you will always have
a special part of me
what better way could there be
to really show you
that we are meant to be.
If I could be anything
to be while in this life
let me be your man
what a beautiful idea
this could really be
living with gods plan.
Won't you please accept my love
by reaching out to me
with your pretty little hand
so I can pridefully slip this ring
onto your finger
its Our Sealing Band...
Penned By MPK
The Sealing
What is that soft wind swirling ‘round the air?
Catching my breath in its Word without words.
Nothing could other than your Spirit be,
Surprising, Love of loves enveloped me.
In wonder I walked, in wonder I lived,
Feeling the glow of peace above the earth;
That soft wind staying very gently felt,
Unseen, unbelieved and yet believing.
Those weeks Love held me in its tender vice,
Slowly, slowly bringing my feet to ground,
Love not leaving, but so reassuring,
Impossible to forget, turning life.
When mean dark nights now try to break my heart,
Sealed by your Spirit forever I know.
The laborious art of sealing the deal
~ Complexity's layers successively pealed
Each new Poem a gift
as yet unwrapped
Its secrets lay hidden,
its flow untapped
Waiting for the author
to feel the pain
To seal the memory
—to wear the stain
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
You can’t grasp liberation
With butterfinger hands;
Rather, you must grasp her
With an iron-fist grip;
Clasping her here forever:-
Thus, let us get to being about
Fulfilling and sealing our liberation,
Rather than just rapping about it:-
Rember, liberation is not given,
It is faithfully fought for and won:-
And the best part of the fight is,
It's not with those weapons given us
To freely eradicate ourselves with;
Rather, it’s with the political power weapon
That so many fought and died for us to win
And have, in securing our political liberation:-