Broad in the beam
not much of a looker
this crusty rust-bucket
of nuts screws and bolts
is a crabby old hooker
as luck would have it
dolled up trolling for supper
at any port in a storm
she still gives good service
tho' down on her uppers
now showing her years
deep in the scuppers
yet still on the game
fishing by night for a living
not to sully or bruise her good name
tho' one might unduly call her
a 'Cruiser'
this goodly vessel is truly a trawler
down went the bobber
set the hook and don’t panic
reel it in ~ fish fry!
Tell the Moms it didn't happen
Tell the Dads it isn't so
Pretty little roses blooming
In the garden – row on row –
Pretty little blossoms folding
Petals falling to the floor
Falling into angels rising
Sprouting wings on which to soar
Smite the gunman at the trigger!
Seize the madman at the gun!
Little voices in the hallway
Little faces in the sun
Little feet upon the heavens
With the morning just begun –
Strike the harp, and hold the fiddle
Let the bells peal out the tune
Mournful as the lonely shepherd
'Ere the clock is noon
Mourning for his little flock
Going home too soon
– And when the news had broken
And gotten all abroad
The stoutest of the stoutest hearts
Could only weep aloud
For here the pact was broken
For here the seal was lost
For here the children were not spared
The devil's holocaust
And startled in his earthly robes
His heart gone sudden cold
Himself a witness to the siege
Even God arose
And with a savage grace
That moved without a sound
Turned the barrel on itself
And with the final round
Emptied out the chamber
And smote the demon down –
Line casts, tension snaps. Freedom.
There's fish in the hook
It's there almost seven hours
It's still alive.
I remember that I once called him Peter Pan
The man I loved, and yet a child at heart to me
A name that became vividly more portending
at pretending than I ever could've imagined.
A lost boy I found long ago, or did he find me?
No need for Tinkerbelle's pixie dust because
he flew with me as his Darling,* to quell his sadness
but in taking it from him, I began losing myself.
He tried to escape his nemesis, the Captain's hook,
but too many walks along the pirate ship's plank
proved to be a daunting task he kept undertaking.
I kept trying to rescue him but he wouldn't swim.
He was drifting far out to sea; drowning in the drink.
I called his name but no sight of him was I able to see.
Peter Pan was lost again, and this time also to me.
Never Never Land is a place I won't be visiting again.
*Wendy Darling
If you give a man a fish he will eat for a day.
If you teach a man to fish his wife will soon leave him.
in Captain Hook's dream
Peter Pan is forever gone
Smead has a fantastic brain
Hook is revered
His crew would never mutiny
and his enemies have all walked the plank
In waters deep, temptation lies,
The bait on the hook, a fish's demise.
In shimmering depths, love's barbed allure.
My dreams are often troubled by useless things.
A land-line clicks on and off repeatedly
the dreamless are phoning me.
long disused.
I found a kitten in the cold winter woods
it died while I drove it to the shelter.
My intervention was just another path
to its end.
I want an old record turntable,
I miss the revolutions,
how the 33rpm vinyl slow-spins,
how you can read the record label
from the bottom of a whisky glass.
A phone hums-on in my head.
static, white noise – who can say?
This I know
there is no shelter in this world.
hook, line and sinker;
drowned in your seductive eyes.
with effortless ease,
you entrap me in your web.
a spider with wicked charms.
Date written: 04/05/2023
I've gone out to the waters
Many times ever since I hit sixteen
I went out hoping to get fish
And in this few years, I've had good catches
With my small hook I've been able to trap big fish
Fishes only thought to be in the deep sea
A surprise cause I only wade shallow waters
Where my dangling feet can easily play in
I'm not a good swimmer yet
That's why I've not gone to the deep sea
Plus it's not like my hook doesn't get fish
That's why I'm still okay treading familiar waters
I'm a good fisherman however
For I stick to the same waters,
long enough to know its depth
Floating long enough before I sink in
I've always prepared bait on my own
Cause I only trust my hands to do the job
For it's a family secret held deep within my tradition
That's why they wonder how every time I come back with a catch
The PO£T
A land without a single crook,
Because criminals they don't brook:
They'd out fish them with a hook
Relying in their roguish look...
A District without a Half Crook
Battered eyes to one make a spook
And as unpleasant as damned gooks...
The criminal, without fail, cooks
First claiming that he lives took
Then, high time petty that you forsook
No one has got wings of rook
Nor in Vengeful World saved by Book.
I Wish
David J Walker
I wish
I wish
I wish
The fish
Besides the flying fish
Could fly
As high as any
Bird you ever heard
Of flying
I am trying
to wish the crying kid
Could fly or swim
An afternoon whim
Of swimming
And try to fly
Flying high
And swimming fast
Past a full moon
And cast a June moon shadow
At night
How would I know if
“Things are different”
And this is what I wished for
In a past life
How would I know if
This isn’t a second chance
In a redo-second life
How would I know that
The gods are annoyed with me
Because I was right
I wish I may
I wish I might
I wish I could start over
I wish I had more time
Flight is good as any wish
Bait the hook
catch the fish
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