Best Seame Poems


Premium Member Tiger In the Sea

I thought I had hooked the world’s largest grouper
After struggling for hours, I was still reeling
Refused help from a friend; I was a trooper
Somehow I found its resistance appealing
Hot sun on the Gulf had me in a stupor
And in my hands I started to lose feeling

It finally came into view just before dark
Was shocked to find a fifteen-foot tiger shark

He’d just been toying with me all afternoon
And he was more than half the size of my boat
I felt like a comic in a weird lampoon  
My heart seemed to be rising up in my throat
Captain Ahab might have viewed this as a boon
But far too much weight did this tiger shark tote

He bolted, took off, stripped the line from my reel
And I had to cast elsewhere for my next meal



* For Thvia's "The One That Got Away" contest (True Story!)

I Must Go Down To the Sea Again

I must go down to the sea again,
My face turned towards the sky
With wind-snatched sounds from the beach below
And above, the seagull’s cry.

Let me walk along the cliff again. 
Let me learn into the gale.
See the breakers as they curl and crash
Hear the sound of the shifting shale.

Let me lie in the cliff-top grass again.
Let me hear the singing sand,
Feel the sting of the wind-whipped dunes
And walk the long sea strand.
   
I must go down to the sea again,
So I can say ‘good bye’
And feel the salt spray on my face
Once more before I die.





Written for Tracy Decker’s “Inspired by the Masters” contest.
First line has been taken from John Masefield's lovely poem.

Premium Member The Brine, It Is a Calling

Elusive dreams, I wait on rocky shores
Looking out upon the waters of a troubled storm
Crashing, tearing, reaching to drag me under
Swirling about my ankles, slick rocks beneath my feet.
 
Will you reach for me when I am falling?
Will you watch me as I drown?
Will you feel any sorrow if I left you?
Would you help me find solid ground?
 
Siren voices whisper and entice me
Foggy mists beyond my reach
Dancing, calling, whispering of a silent sleep,
If I but release my hold and swim in waters deep.
© Lena Pate  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Offshore Fishing Adventure

So far offshore, but nothing was biting

Six-pack behind me looked so inviting

     New rod I placed on the deck

     Though it was just for a sec

‘Twas then an amberjack hit like lightning


The buoyant rod bounded over each wave

Determined, I vowed that pole I would save

     Spun my boat in fit of rage

     Against this fish, war I’d wage

An Ahab-like victory I did crave


With a gaffing hook, I retrieved the pole

To catch amberjack, I’d be on a roll

     Barracuda caught it first

     Fell overboard, then submersed 

The ‘cuda eyed me as his dessert goal



*Entry for Frank's "Summer Memory" contest

Premium Member The Captain and I

With the palms of well-worn leathery hands that in younger days guided a Tall Ship round 
the globe many times with the help of stars that still twinkled in his eyes, the old man made 
a porthole in the frosty forest of swirling ferns that had been painted on the kitchen window 
pane by Jack-Frost during the night.

As I sat on his lap, he told me the creaking sound made by the rockers from the rocking 
chair we sat in on the hardwood floor - if he closed his eyes, could make him believe he was 
back with the wind in his sails, rising and dipping and swaying with the whims of the 
waves ‘ore the sea.

Back- and- forth, back-and-forth, we rocked as the porthole on the window pane grew larger, 
exposing the winter wonder land outside where trees and roads and roof-tops lie frozen 
beneath a layer of fluffy snow that looked like icing on a birthday cake, as the house 
softened and swelled in the warmth of the burning kindling wood that snapped and crackled 
in the stove. 

Rocking  back-and-forth, back-and-forth, I asked him, looking into those eyes of green, with 
that far away look. “Grandpa, won’t you tell me please, what lies beyond the sea?”  He 
paused for a moment, blowing silver halos that rose from his pipe in an aroma of sweet 
smelling ‘Old Sail’ tobacco, and with the magic of his words, he took me on a journey, 
rocking across the sea where he showed me all the places and wondrous things he’d ever 
seen.

That was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, where an old man, taught a 
little girl, that life is but a dream.

                                                                ~~~~~

                          In memory of: Captain James George the Third - My Grandfather

                                                                   ~~~~~
 2nd place in  'Anything Goes #2 Contest - sponsered by Constance La France 

                                                
Author's note:  

This is one entry of many that will appear in my next book ' A Journey of Roses and Thorns'. 
They are true events that have happened in my life - some where roses, some were 
thorns.  I have learned valuable lessons from both.

Gulf Oil Spill.

Fox news. Fair and balanced: “ We now take you live…”
MSNBC. The place for politics. “You are looking at a live shot…”
CNN. The world turns to CNN. “This breaking news just in…”

The President:
“You should know that I’m trying, straining so hard. As I squint down at the gobs of
petroleum lard.
The last guy was clueless I won’t act like him.
I’m cool and aloof and won’t act on a whim.”

The American Public:
“Never mind who.
Never mind how.
End this debacle.
Do something now.” 

The CEO:
“Let me say this right now, that we’re trying our best.
All our global resources have been put to the test.
I truly feel all your pain as I speak here to you.
As I have stated before, I want my life back, too.”

The Environmentalists:
“Do anything! Anyone!
May you burn twice in Hell!
So smug and superior!
Cap the damned well!”

The Press:
“We’re on this story, we’ll report, you decide!
And 24/7, non stop coverage, we’ll provide!
Keeping them honest, we’re the network news.
We want those ratings, Bring in our panel for views.”

A resident of the Gulf Coast:
“Yes, your pictures are priceless
And your words are like pearls.
I live here and fish here.
It’s the end of my world.”

A Pelican:
“I wear petrified slop as I adorn your news.
Once a fisher, a flyer, now shackled in ooze.
And I did nothing but live. Look me in the eye.
Why did you kill me? For what did I die?”

His Mate:
“Do you care how you forage?
Or do you ravage, instead?
Let your greed in your claws
Be all lathered with lead.”


Premium Member White Dog

White Dog tell me stories
Of the places near and far
Of nights upon the ocean
Following a star
Tell me stories of adventure
And a Caribbean breeze
Or fighting swirling winds
Upon the mighty seas
Let me dream once more of sailing
And peaceful tropical nights
Gazing at the Southern Cross
Standing beneath the Northern Lights
White Dog carry me away
To where my dreams were bold and young
To feel the wind against my face
And the salt upon my tongue
Let me feel the gentle waves
On a night that’s calm and warm
Then stand in awe of her fury
In the midst of a tropical storm
White Dog bring my dreams to life
Of sailing days that never end
I see you sitting on the sand
Rest peacefully my friend.

" Downunder "

Flibble me flabbles walk me decks~
O'speed & grace & o' them wrecks~
Ye ayre whot's roight 'tis such a'fright~
Great White runs deep & up tonight~

Lee ayre naught but weather gone 'round~ 
Yer vessel she's stout 'er keel yet sound~ 
Trade 'er not fer bright boards o'glass~ 
Put not o'er side yer frilly young lass~ 

Sands moight be white & mayhap oft black~ 
Sail well 'ard to wind'ard & ne'er a'back~ 
Genies o'bottles magicians all~ 
Ne'er down o'heavens stars may fall~ 

'Til nights ayre bright & days ayre dark~ 
'Twil then in me wake I'll set 'em a'spark~
Me cannon's whot's ready & 'er barrel be 'ot~ 
Fer landsman I ain't ne'er & not! 

Cheers-yer-Ears o'heard well 'round~ 
Whot ayre whot's seas steep ayre a'bound~ 
Me ship 'er rails mayhap yet be down~ 
Fer 'twould me krewe wish a'first bein' a'town!!! 

Chasin' ports wenches.... kissin' 'em a'bold~ 
Folklore grand as to children 'twill be told~ 
O'Corsairs & Pyrates & krewes o'brigands~ 
Fer me ship when goes down she'll go with all 'ands! 

Poseidon Neptune Atlantian Mermaids~ 
O'all those seas ayre whot's them's made~ 
Them whot's chucklin' fer so as we play~ 
Sailin' our great ships fore'er & one day! 

Aye mayhap so whot's our dreams be a'miss~ 
Fer naught sailor needs but a'plenty o'kiss~ 
Nay not so sayeth seas so deep so green~ 
‘Tis life whot's best or so 'twould seem! 

SeaWolf
©

The Sweet Return of a New Yorker

Two years ago I left New York,
to find my luck somewhere else,
and in Waterbury, Connecticut I settled in a ranch-house,
which overlooked middle-class homes
groping on verdant slopes;
the night stars may have shined 
a little brighter than in Manhattan,
without a trace of pollution or smog,
but  the harsh winters made me dream again
of living in the warm streets of wonderful New York!


As I step out of my car into Fifth Avenue, by the entrance,
old acquaintances welcome the sweet return of a New Yorker;
and unto Columbus Circle I run toward Central Park:
it used to be my park, and my dog loved it by barking lauder,
and over little bridges I jogged as he chased me fervently;
there was no day in which I felt lonely...to want to escape from this city! 
Here all neighbors met and chatted with a kind of stylish accent...
that all tourists love and find it extremely attractive!


When I look up...there the Empire State Building 
is one of the wonders of my glamorous city that never disappoints anyone;
even night can't put it to sleep with its gloom;
and holidays always decorate it with spectacular lights:
like the yellow-bright daffodils that begin to bloom...
as happy faces greet the sweet return of a New Yorker...
driving on the Brooklyn Bridge bound for the New Jersey shore!
O greatest city, let me begin to write an ode that your people will sing!  


Other cities are certainly beautiful and captivating as this one,
but none of them can spark inside that something so special...
the breath-taking view of the sky-scrapes in the August' moonlight,
the gracious waves of the East River and the ships that glide up and down the harbor;
and in this spot I met my sweet-heart with eyes like a Virginia sky, and hair
so soft and as red as the cheeks of a stuttering, drunken man!
Lady of a mysterious night, you vanished as the summer'
dawn erupted from the ocean's deep to forever preserve your delicate beauty! 


Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci

Down By the Sea

Down by the sea, 
living free, 
you and me 
 
Let yourself go 
Down by the sea, 
for you see............ 
I know 
what it means to be free, 
down by the sea 
 
Walk along the shore, 
listen to the steady roar, 
of waves on the beach 
Always in your reach, 
and you want it more 
 
Down by the sea, 
gulls passing by 
What it is to be free 
dont you agree? 
Down by the sea, 
watching them fly 
 
Down by the sea, 
you reach that stage 
Wind in your hair 
You.......... 
out of your cage, 
see what's there 
 
Down by the sea, 
time can show, 
tidal flow 
Let your self go 
You and me 
 
Down by the sea 
Seaspray can take it all away 
Cant you see? 
Live today 
 
Down by the sea, 
this wind, 
sets you free 
Mind to fly, 
body to sigh 
 
Down by the sea, 
you and me 
Extend  yourself 
body and mind 
You have the time, 
to be............ 
Down by the sea 
 
Down by the sea, 
body and spirit, 
peaceful harmony 
You and me 
Tidal flow 
Take me......... 
where I want to be 
 
Down by the sea 
It becomes real 
Tides can heal 
You and me 
Where we want to be

Dark Waters

I cross the threshold into the unknowing,
Plenty can quantify my needs.
Whispers of hints,
Clues to the secrets which lie in the mist,
Are given,
And I am not blind enough to let them surpass unnoticed.

I wade through the dark waters,
Unsure of what lies beneath.
Snakes of terror,
Gators of death,
I refuse to shrink in fear.

I continue on,
Head held strong,
Above the current that buffets,
Trying to force me down.

For nothing brings me to its depths,
My will power far too great.
I climb those waves of steps and steps,
And renounce false fate.

Dew No More Young Patient Flower

I mourn for him whom I still love;
though from me Cupid's ark hath sailed,
and with it my companion-dove,
across Poseidon's mighty veil.

I yearn for not his quick return,
but only to convey my heart,
for that I know is possible,
despite that we are worlds apart.

The dew that trimmed my bloom this morn,
that seeped into my leaf's lament,
still lightly glides with sentiment
and glimmers in the evening's tint.

His Majesty restrains his breath,
and so I root upon the pier,
but not to grieve nor damp my cast,
but come to terms with what I fear.

He saw me as his fated bud,
a flower very few can pluck,
and he was dearly confident
that I would bloom with lovers' luck.

But if his gentle hand hath writhed
before that infant's feeble vow,
then who am I to ardently
await the docking of his bow?

I do so miss his charming guise,
his shielding arms about my stem.
But what of all my missive pain?
Were not those earnest words for him?

The partly broken star subsides,
the past it lit no longer here.
Perhaps I should relinquish him, 
and burn away my flimsy tears.

" Dragonfly "

Were it so as legends tell~
Dragon on my bow may be~
That which now doth bode me well~
For he has now thus flown to me~

As he doth decide to perch~
I so steer my course with care~
I'll not chance to suffer lurch~
His legend what was won of dare~

Days so old when knights were bold~
Oft that tale o'dragon told~
Yet now he soars with us through time~
A legend yours a promise mine~

Must have he then heard my chant~
Or mayhap 'twas me a'rant~
For rode he well upon my craft~
Never once a'glancin' aft~

As on those waters we down went~
Days begun & so soft spent~
Adrift in time o'endless mind~
Friend such dragon I did find~

Told me tales o'times before~
O'such deeds o'days o'yore~
Yet captured me he'd done so well~
In mind o'dragon I did dwell~

Sailed that river to her bay~
Done that journey on that day~
Yet never ever shall I forget~
Dragon once landed upon my deck~

SeaWolf
©

Premium Member The Sea Calls Me

My heart yearns not for the mountain-way,
With its green of grass and tree;
My heart calls out for the ocean spray,
And the sound of the surf rolling free!
Give me a land with its feet in the sea,
Its low-swelling shoulders nearby.
The voice of the waves is a music to me,
And the cry of the gulls is my cry.
Cast me not out on your hot desert sand,
Where the salt-tanging airs never rest.
Give me space on an ocean-washed strand,
With a flicker of foam on its breast!
When the storm clouds build to a thundering groan,
And the wind whips the trees on the shore,
With a rip and a roll and a deep wailing moan,
The swell charges in with a roar!
Still, even then, with the needle-sharp spray,
Dancing its pain  'cross my face,
My soul ventures out and is swept far away,
On the crest of a fast ocean race.
Thrilled to the core by the need to be free,
Not bound by this weak mortal form,
It pitches and dives and races the sea,
And rides on the wings of the storm!
Lighter than down and stronger than steel,
With a knowledge as old as the sea,
That this is the way my soul will feel,
Perched on the brink of eternity!

Written by my wife Vera Selena Hinshaw
© All Rights Reserved

Harbored

You keep me anchored
Safely moored to the shore    
A beautiful harbor 
Is where I reside
A sweet cove secure 
From the incoming tide
Dare I drift away
Your grasp holds me back
Although a storm comes today
I'm not pulled into the black
But sweetly stowed in your seaport 
As you bravely battle the fray
And I'm forever in your court 
As I'm lovingly locked away.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace