Best White Whale Poems
Poetry will not keep you warm
Not like a cat nestled between legs
But, it hunts down manic thoughts
Gnashes the static till the mind gives
Chases a thought till claws are bloody
Keeps you drenched in sweat
Yes, she mews for attention
Till its cries grate every nerve
Till I feed it words & want
Poetry keeps me squirming
Caught in a net skimming a deluge
Waiting for words to be hauled
The big catch ever escaping
Keeps me checking the line
Insisting I jump into cold waters
Foolishly like Ahab chasing a tail
Sadness is my white whale
Mad with promises holey
Poetry is a leaky bucket
Catching the rain of words
Within depression's storm
Coming like a cat with a pail
Impossible and torrential
Ensnaring me for an hour
Keeps me back for seconds
Promising an easy catch
Cold and slippery
In oceans deep, the white whale sings
He seeks a mate to ease his pain
His song, it plays on our heart strings
As Moby Dick searches in vain
Such loneliness no whale can feign
For he’s the last of “great white” kings
Angry, no love can he attain
Casting hapless ships ‘neath waves’ rings
January 21, 2020
For Charlie Messina’s “Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay Poetry Contest”
Dedicated to my beautiful sister, Dr. Barbara Voglino, with thanks for introducing me to some of the greatest literature ever penned. Love you, Sis!
The bedroom we shared,
Always quiet as a tomb
Until my sister Bobbie would ask
If I wanted a tale
She spoke of a white whale
And a captain named Ahab, bent on revenge
My favorite featured a black bird called “Raven”
I loved every story
And the lessons they taught
She even shared Shakespeare
Her voice was so gentle --
I was under her spell
I asked so many questions, oh my!
On the wings of her stories, to dreamland I’d fly
Now as we age, I dread the dark time
When angels will carry one of us away
No children have I; our parents are gone
She’s eleven years older, but I don’t know how
I could live without her, our bond is so strong
Still, years pass by and this I know
My storyteller and I will one day part
Each time we talk, we end with, “I love you”
And I make sure she knows how I learned
To love Shakespeare and more, from stories she told
These memories I’ll cherish
No matter how old
*Written December 9, 2020
For L. Milton Hankins “Story from Your Childhood” Poetry Contest
Arrogant autocratic Ahab
Sails set seaward
Heartless harpoon high
Wind wracked Waves
Revenge rage regret
Wretched white whale
Opaque Ocean oblivious
Deep dark dangerous
Titanic terrors traversing
Captain callous cold
Blood bought bonds
Obsidian oaths ordured
Foreboding fears fester
Sacrosanct silent seas
Motionless midst moonset
Dim daylight dawned
Spray shot skyward
Lithe Longboats launched
Barnacled Behemoth Breaching
Heartless harpoons hefted
Destruction death defeat
Ahab alone as Achilles did battle
Poised proud purposeful in battle
Long lance light in hand for battle
White whale welcomes the battle
Dives deep deep to rise to the battle
Man monster meet to do battle
The sea is still, it has no tale to tell
The Feeling of Fishing while Floating
Is Graded on Goading, and Gloating
Bystanders oft blindly believe
In salmon the size of my sleeve
Tall Tales at the Time Told True
In Grandeur they Gained and they Grew
But my Rod and Reel won't Remember
Come the Dread and the Din of December
And by the Time I again Tell my Tale
I Will have Wrangled Ahab's White Whale
2/13/11
Black is the oceans of the heavens, gleaming with the coral reef of
Stars, serenity amongst the voids abyss, it is fathomless, a
Universal sea eternal, beauty set upon the heights divides.
A rushing torrent of vastness ever flowing, always changing
Uncharitable by navigation or mechanical device, it is the
Infinite masterpiece of the almighty's master craftsman’s ship,
Too which the yardmen cast their sails of discovery, following
The farthest northern star.
Shimmer does the cosmic sand dust, aligning the distant
Planetary shores, splashing with the rippling waves
Beyond time and space.
This is the cradle of life’s essence, the tidal pool of our emergence,
Suspended above, lit by the burning sun on the horizon’s hardened
Edge of survival, without a ports harbor for safeties sheltering cove.
Captain am I, of my own destiny, first mate of mine divine soul,
I’m an elliptical voyager, seeking the unknown passage,
Beyond the outer limits of spaces tidal rift.
Floating islands of motions asteroids, bumping as frozen ice bergs,
Shattering in the gravitational pull of these space continental giants,
Melting within their grasping heated touch.
But I am a hunter by trade and necessity, looking for the prey in
These lunar waters of blackness, call me Ahab, seeking the great
White whale, slick is this leviathan, a chameleon blending, diving into
The rippling surf of this black hole of this universe.
Nay call me neither mad, nor insane for I've seen this space whale,
Lined with crystal diamonds, sparkling beneath the solar array,
Breathing liquid air and spitting it outwardly full steam ahead.
Mockingly at me, he winks with those sea foam blue eyes,
I'm not set to kill the beast, but to instead marvel at his realism,
And to prove the unidleness of my mental mind.
So I will tread this galaxy in search of him, forever to ramble
Along these distant planetary shores, until another soul beholds
This creature of divine beauty, call me then Ahab, seeking
To find his great white whale.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Hemingway’s famous “Old Man and the Sea”
Simply couldn’t hold a candle to me
I caught Ahab’s great white whale
Did some surfing on his tail
Made him jump through hoops ‘fore I set him free
In Scotland I gave Nessie a big scare
As with my huge net, the beast I did snare
I held on as Nessie tugged
Then set her free as I shrugged
To tell the truth, Nessie hadn’t a prayer
And now I’ve set my sights on the Kraken
Oh yes, I’m more than a fishing bumpkin
And so for Norway I sail
To prove women aren’t frail
This giant squid is simply a munchkin
.
Written for Susan’s “Ridiculous Self-Exaggerations” contest
*Last line is the metaphor
It is cloudy today, with a good chance of daydreams
I'm prone on my back, and my chores have been done
Instead of a nap, there is something that seems
to call for attention and offer some fun
Imagine you're me, in the afternoon sun
With the sky as the ocean, and grass as my pillow
I dream of adventure, adrift in a sea
The clouds in formation, have gathered and billowed
As the mast gathers wind, and sails down for me
I'm swept to the sky on a wave, wild and free !
There's an elephant swimming!! And a white whale that frolics!
And a long caterpillar, that follows to play!
But, they're slowly dissolving, I become melancholic
as the mast has collapsed, and the whale goes astray
While the ship I was sailing, has faded away.
_______________________________________________________
1/30/16 Contest: "Imagination"...Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Bob and Hannah went to fish in Wassamassaw Bay.
They told their mom they would return for church so they could pray.
But both of them lost track of time, returning way past noon.
The sun was down and it was dark and there was a full moon.
“What do you have to say to me, for it is very late.
The moon is up, the sun is down, your meals are on your plates.
You haven’t done your chores and now it’s almost time for bed.
The dog is barking angrily for he wants to be fed.”
“We are so very sorry but we did lose track of time.
There was commotion on the Bay although there was no crime.
And when we tried to leave for home the officer said, ‘No.’
He said we’d have to stay a while and that we could not go.”
“He said he had some questions so we would have to stay.
We told him that we had to go to church so we could pray.
The officer said we could go after we told the tale.
Of how in Wassamassaw Bay, we caught a big white whale!”
By Samia Arroyo for David Williams' Palindrome mad contest.
Bob
Hannah
Wassamassaw
mom
noon
Yarns Of A Seafaress
Hemingway's famous "Old Man and the Sea"
Simply couldn't hold a candle to me
I caught Ahab's great white whale
Did some surfing on his tail
Made him jump through hoops 'fore I set him free
In Scotland I gave Nessie a big scare
As with my huge net, the beast I did snare
I held on as Nessie tugged
Then set her free as I shrugged
To tell the truth, Nessie hadn't a prayer
And now I've set my sights on the Kraken
Oh yes, I'm more than a fishing bumpkin
And so for Norway I sail
To prove women aren't frail
This giant squid is simply a munchkin
This wonderful poem epitomizes Carolyn's love for everything about the sea.
She has so creatively and entertainly regaled us with her delightful writes based on
her own personal sea adventures that have become and will remain classics.
I can picture Carolyn standing on the prow of a boat, her hair streaming in the wind,
as it charges full steam ahead as she seeks further swashbuckling challenges beyond
the horizon. She has been a supporter and encourager to me not only in poetic matters but personal matters as well. I pray that her well of verse will never run dry!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
The work of a teacher is never done.
To think, that one must traverse a sea of minds.
Academically rowing against pop culture.
Nowadays, that's next to impossible.
Still, every weekday morning, they set sail
And prepare for the battle ahead.
Year after year, wave after wave.
Relentless.
Some years, the storms are harder.
Teachers.
Captains of their classrooms.
Always in search of the perfect way to teach!
That White Whale.
That Holy Grail of education.
However,
Like any sea, these minds are a force of nature.
Captains not fully able to change its direction
But completely capable of claiming its attention.
8 hours a day.
5 days a week.
Every school year.
Shaping the new generation.
Training new captains along the way.
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
Pale moon lights up the night sea surfaces
To smile wide on the horizon shimmering with the waves
Takes a drink then sinks ten thousand leagues
Down with the giant white whale who becomes minute
Consumed by the world wide oceans blue
Depths that crush the soul of soldiers lost in history
By bygone wars that leave their remains beneath the waves
Spread out like so much ocean matter graves
Pale moon light penetrates that under world
Where colors become deformed, fractured dim
Twisting with the neon squid in a labyrinthine-in swim
Around the sea bed rocks hidden in murky gray
They pray for any kind of light to see the truth
Pale moon comes through
The Atlantic was an ocean once unexplored,
even the Romans with their naval might, took no interest in conquering beyond;
so it remained an incognito in their minds:
perhaps its wrathful waves kept them away: they made very frightening sounds.
Columbus, the fearless and fair explorer, made frequent voyages...
he never encountered and fought a whale: it didn't impose a threat;
despite his first voyage was an horrific one, he didn't end his quest
to discover a vast and rich continent inhabited by the peaceful Indians.
If whales were scarce in this immense deep, they were more abundant off Nantacket,
as the Pacific Ocean swarmed with these monstrous mammals it didn't scare Moby Dick
by searching for the biggest white whale that was able to jar his ship and make it sink;
and he could only salvage: a pound of bread, fish, water besides and his treasure chest.
Life, I think, is a bit of a paradox.
Floating through this desolate void devoid of context and explanation, (some might suggest value as well, I suppose);
I conclude these idiosyncratic murmurings of bothersome almost-people
Reprimanding my almost-conscience are just a whit of an empty, emaciated white whale of a civilization proclaiming pseudo-camaraderie and disappointing undertakings as suitable solutions for contentedly concluding one’s existence.
Though some perceive fraudulence efficiently, soaring quilled shafts of deceit unavoidably puncture intimate electing properties of our conscious.
No barricade can shield humanity from himself.
With living comes a constant quality of inconsistency,
despite the state of existence itself being incredibly monophonic,
permeating my formless breath and solid heart like no other experience.
Well… there is another event I imagine could deliver a pure, unadulterated sensation of intoxicating eternity.
I will wait for him, peacefully, until he arrives on his sweet, milky steed.
O dear old friend, deliver me swiftly unto my end, the true undying void.