Long Dockside Poems

My love and I we took a ride
One beautiful Spring morn late May
Through the winding Maine countryside
We headed over Castine way

We came this way times before
To charming Castine town
Now we had come again once more
To...

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I'm a Piketown son who left his mum
To sail the eastern shores
Spent a year in Gloucester
'mong the barkeeps and the whores

Then a man came 'round to Gloucester town
Said boys I need a few
Strapping lads such...

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Far out on Neptune's briny sea,
my hammock holding still
while the ship slowly rocks side to side,
tired and lonely, I close my eyes.
In this darkness I can hear
the constant lapping of the waves
against my ship's hull...

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My T.V. just left, said he was
Gonna go out and catch a real movie...
Those on T.V. stations have grown too trite,
My refrigerator told me,
He ain't letting me in no more...
At least till I drop 20...
I...

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A Lincolnshire lass was she
        in youth and bloom revealing,
and upon us all God smiled
when unto this world a child
       was born...

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There was a fisherman needing a buzz 
Full of hairy looking fuzz 
Watching a canary do what he does 
Using his noodle 
Fisherman started to doodle 
On a canvas for what it’s worth 
Being independent...

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Absent deliberate intervention
     vis a vis suicide,
supposed "natural" longevity of generic human 
     starring sallying forth primate ride
ding bareback across avast
     broke back...

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OCEANS AWAIT

Away from the dockside and into the bay
Heading out to sea in this steel hulled ship
Powered by team, yet with masts and sail
A fast and safe journey is as the Holy Grail
Carrying passengers, cargo...

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He walked up from the lake
Throwing open the door of the glorious day
Like a smiling OB-GYN snapping off his gloves
With a toolbox in hand
Delivered to my dad the good news.

“I’m certain this new ignition will...

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Form: Acrostic
Don’t walk by,pretend not to see

Outside in the cold is no place to be

Whistle to yourself,think glad it’s not me

No-one can escape their destiny.

 

No-one can prepare for all trials of life

One day it...

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Chinwag Pies 

A crowd gathers
Where the poor run wild, 
Relentlessly taunting 
An innocent child, 
Scathing, scalding 
Thieving eyes, 
Scrimping, scraping 
Chinwag pies. 

Two a penny 
For those that beg, 
A clip round the ear 
For...

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Just a common whore they said
Who rolled the drunken tars
As they staggered out from
The Dockside taverns and bars.
Lime Street, Liverpool was
Where she plied her trade.
Where her drunken bargains
Were very quickly made.

Transported to Australia
When she was...

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Stem the tide your pride rides
To a puerile pinnacle
In a vain belief it makes sensational strides
When like a locust your spiracle

Exhales carbon dioxide
To catalyze photosynthesis for red roses in your green garden
While your pride derides...

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Preparedness
By: Tom Wright
Feb. 1, 1998

Merely waiting
for your ship to come in
is not sufficient.
You must be dockside, prepared and
scanning the horizon.
Those who are content to wait,
life will pass by.
The prepared will always
cause something to happen.
The opportunity...

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They were Lilly Whites from Kildare,
And Boggers from County Clare,
Herring Gutters from Donegal
And Dubliner Jackeens.
They were Goat Suckers, Slaneysiders,
Magpies and Rossies.
They were Kellys, and Murrays, 
O’Carrols, and Moores,
They were Campbells, MacMurphys, and Dunns.
One claimed he’s...

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To Sea

I would like to think that
The big, white birds soaring
Over choppy waters
Or the way my camera captures
A straight, bold beam of light
Is a vision of sorts –
A gift from you,
To me.
This vision would say:
	“Hey!
		I’m...

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the pilot arrives 

When the world was big, and my ship left Trinidad just
as the sun set over the blue Caribbean and women, at the dockside waved goodbye forever, or perhaps not, if the ship...

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...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 


Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle...

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...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 


Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle...

Read More

...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 


Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle...

Read More

...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 


Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle...

Read More

...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 


Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle...

Read More

...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932)


Words of purpose, carved and beaten,
chipped from granite's cold confines,
fashioned into filigrees
that shocked and startled simpler minds.

The Bridge, that span of subtle magic,
metaphor of time and space,
stretching skyward,...

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...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 


Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle...

Read More

...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932)
 

Words of purpose, carved and beaten,
chipped from granite's cold confines,
fashioned into filigrees
that shocked and startled feeble minds.

The Bridge, that span of subtle magic,
metaphor of time and space,
stretching...

Read More