1. To Fly
My father was an admiral, and so
I joined the Navy. Back in fifty-eight
to be a pilot seemed the way to go:
ship-sailors were committed to a crate.
Scrub decks? Paint rusting gunwales? That’s a ‘no’.
The Skyhawk was my weapon (and my fate!)
2. Rubicon Crossing
Some nations follow rainbows, I am told:
we thought, in Vietnam, ‘search and destroy’
would lead us to our fabled pot of gold.
For years we tried it, but it brought no joy:
we lost our nerve, and switched to ‘clear and hold’.
Saigon endured the selfsame end as Troy.
3. Brainwash
The Hanoi Hilton. Yes, I was a guest.
They found my father was a VIP,
and left off hurting me. Impressed,
they wanted to restore my liberty.
But if I left my buddies, I’d detest
myself. I turned them down. That’s decency!
4. Frozen Side of the Sun
Should politicians simply sing the song?
A woman voter told me, in the hall,
Obama was a Muslim. I said, “Wrong!”
I guess I lost her vote. I made the call
I knew was the correct one. I was strong.
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all.
Categories:
gunwales, life,
Form: Rhyme
Now far offshore and beaten by the waves,
into the wind, they pulled to no effect.
The choppy seas, enough to quell the brave,
lept o’er the gunwales, merciless, unchecked.
He came to them, the fourth watch of the night;
not recognizing him, they were dismayed.
Thinking a ghost, they cried out at the sight.
Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.
Then Peter answered, Lord, if it is you,
command me, Walk, and I will come on out,
walked on the water till his fear broke through;
O you of little faith, why did you doubt?
Then, making far more progress than before,
with Christ aboard, they pulled for the far shore.
Categories:
gunwales, faith, fear,
Form: Sonnet
A Tale of the sea.
Moonlight like little diamonds floating
upon a midnight cold sea
whale song eerily in the distance calls
the little ship sailing on the wind
taking those within to a secret place.
time for them is finished and at an end
wrapped in the gunwales keeping warm
seabirds in the dark silently fly
no need for them to cry.
beauties of the deep blue sea
accompany the ship to its final home.
swishing in to harbour wall
white and sad in midnights thrall.
a sigh floats in the air
your home,
a whisper on the wind.
Categories:
gunwales, death, farewell, lost, ocean,
Form: Blank verse
Chase the breakers out of the harbour
before the customs boat appears.
Strike the sails and tack to larboard
then comes the old familiar fear.
Will they run us, or will they gun us?
Damn these sails, catch the wind.
Spume and foam roll and spin us,
forgive us Lord for we have sinned.
Packed to the gunwales with contraband
trying to make a dishonest living.
Running close twixt rocks and strand,
not only the sea is unforgiving.
Soon we'll be in open water,
run the mizzen, strike the main.
Then, God willing, well outrun her
and run a windward spray again.
Categories:
gunwales, sea,
Form: Rhyme
the gods …
awoke early that day
for the sun had swallowed the moon
and left a ragged, gaping wound in the sky …
it bled darkness like cold oil
threatening to stain
all that they had labored to create
not the least of which -
humankind -
had yet to suck a breath
or betray their common senses
but …
what of Byzantium, they pondered?
the horizon still ached for sails
but to weave an empty sky was doom
even for the regal bateaux of Valhalla -
‘breach the canopy’, they thought
sew the temporal seam with
threads of divine intent ...
net the stars like silver herring and
bind them to the gunwales, en masse -
grave the hulls on the cosmos
and set the sextant to unholy dreams ...
the day be damned
it would end nonetheless
and tomorrow would
still come ...
sail on!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Standard Contest Number 145 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
This poem did NOT place in the "A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God" Poetry Contest.
Categories:
gunwales, fantasy,
Form: Free verse