Long Lookouts Poems

>We have just remembered the ending of the Second World War VE day it's called.  My father, well stepfather was a member of the British Expeditionary Force.  He was injured and evacuated by...

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I sit and pause, looking at the sky blue ceiling above me. White vapour cotton wool clouds
gently float like water lilies on an upside down pond. My humble seat, an igneous rock
from the Devonian period....

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His past finally caught up with him...

The killer waited silently in the man's room.
His gun cocked as footsteps approached.
The key jiggled in the lock of the door.
The man stepped inside, unaware of his fate.
Three shots...

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It was after the defeat at Camden,
in the fall of 1780,
British Major Patrick Ferguson
sought to exploit Britain’s victory.

To secure South Carolina’s countryside,
he marched his loyalist forces forward,
threatened the men beyond Appalachia,
said he would lay waste...

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IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA 
BASE FORTHWITH.
ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, 
SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, 
WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, 	SHRINKS, COLONEL 
CLINKS, BOSSES,...

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word string you make my heart sing
you make everything groovy
but I wanna know for sure
the slaver's noose is no sower of truth
and its cohort of prediction
open eyed jumping to no order
because invention is the outcome...

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The ship was atoss on the ungallant sea
The swells took a toll as the hull strained and cracked
It would be fair time afore it sought the lee
With the slams and the pitching the ship could...

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Born of smoke and fire glow
In those blazing summers of long ago
Little mountaintop pagodas
Wooden cabs with cute cupolas
Guardians of the grand Sequoia
Douglas fir and ponderosa

Where vigil kept with eagle eyes
Spotted smokes of wildland fires
Called the...

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She stands by the window
Looking out over the blue
For soon he will sail home
He lover oh so true

It was many weeks ago
From Valletta harbour he sailed
For the Atlantic cause
Following the convoy trail

From its industrial ports
On...

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Wind filled sails drives his command,
A salty breeze chisels his face.
The crew obeys his every demand,
Master of the sea stands in his place.

Sailing South to all virgin lands,
Heading's true and steering straight.
Ship is cradled in...

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She leaves Southampton
This Titanic ship
Her maiden voyage
New York trip
 
Channel crossings to Cherbourg, France
To Queenstown in Ireland
Where passengers dance
To some, a new life awaits
The future will seal their fate
 
Newfoundland waters
Temperature drop
Impending disaster
Without a thought
...

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Transitory Mirror

Dark pools look back
These eyes
Now slow mark their lines
Crows feet emotions
With sun kind smiles
Older now
As they stare

Their sparkle sheen
Hides the so many things
Times have come
Gone into an Iris of thought
The lookouts of my soul
Wonder...

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If you ever heard of this story
If you ever felt the presence of a stranger 
If his words were soft and kind
And you could see him smiling in his eyes

Lookout and be careful
The eyes are...

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We move to the city with all its buildings
Miss the country with all the viewings
The crisp mornings and the fresh air
A beautiful feeling you can always bear

To live in a house with all of its...

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Tides will lecture us, obtrusively, to our faces, 
& it's moments like these we unearth 
probity in outlooks and lookouts 
to crack the skulls of coconuts. some lives
have small windows, & we, like hounds, look...

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To the Signalmen of the Watch

She is cool gray steel, slicing darkest sea.
Crewed by crazed youngsters, both man and woman.
Quiet and deadly, in following seas, free.
No light above, but the Moon and Orion.

Coffee, cigarette, red...

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beneath circling clouds
in the depths of the ocean
with little nearby
lies a speck of an island
of but thirty-five square miles

green mountain rising
from which hot lava once flowed
most toward the west
where the people live today
in modest isolation

not...

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Late winter
Endless winter
Trees lay bare branches across the grey sky
Their leaves dried by March wind
Brown as putrid skin
Ground squirrels scurry round
Hunting up buried nuts
Some climb trees to very top
Lookouts     for ...

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