Long Sailor Poems
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An image of a bottle feeder attached to my brother’s cage,
his crib - a newfangled breast without arms; only the arm
of an anti-motherly technique sold by the public freak.
I laugh, loads. I know my mom was not cold. She probably
threw this crank-y thing into the gar-bage; replaced by
a handsome hippo, stuffed with cuteness and cuddlesome.
My mom didn’t use her own milk. The sixties were hip.
No, she didn’t work outside her domicile. Life was a trip.
Tipped the scales for me, a sailor guy asking if I’d breastfeed
my upcoming bundle of joy. Think of that, from a guy’s lips
to my ears. So I looked up the idea and,indeed, thank him.
Still, my mom always nursed me with good milk; and arms.
Her mom didn’t rescue her when she tipped boiling water
and onto her foot, so she climbed up some steps to my cry.
No cells back then, except your home, all alone; with tears -
mine and hers, but hers comforted me while her foot throbbed.
I was not robbed of this story, and thus, am always careful
to carry water to the sink with compassion and caution.
Your mom, did her best? Most did, didn’t they? Selfish, hey!
Heard of one mom who left her infant son all night under the
anguished moon, no crescent to rock him, no suckling.
His anger grew…emotions embedded in darkness. Police
handed him to his grandmother who swaddled him with love
until his anger subsided; subdued by the grace of God.
What kind of mom will you be - will your love blast
into eternity? Put aside yourself, no baby anymore.
Give quick attention to a son and daughter…adore!
I wonder in the quiet of the waves,
if dreams I hold are real as waters deep.
The path I walk—was it ever mine at all,
or am I drifting, caught in currents’ flow?
I am both sailor and the storm’s dark face,
the one who steers yet fights against the pull.
I lift myself yet fall, as tide allows,
and love holds light that fades like salt’s harsh sting.
Each wave pulls forward, back a paradox,
my compass spinning wildly, though I steer.
I drift, I grind, I grow, a force unknown,
the face I glimpse a stranger's, veiled in night.
These waters hold both fury and release,
a restless churn, a voice beneath the waves.
I push myself to rise above, yet still
the ocean calls, “Is this all you would be?”
But in each wave, I’ve ridden, storms I’ve braved,
I see both beauty, burden, bound as one.
Peace lies not in the sea’s retreating edge,
but in the calm, I carry from within.
I am both broken and yet made anew,
a mosaic of shores both lost and found.
The weight feels lighter now that I can see
this journey was my own to chart and own.
I walk forward, no longer cast adrift,
a captain, not of calm but of my tides.
The storm now whispers, waves a memory,
and in the quiet, I find my own true north.
For every wave I’ve braved, I hold a light,
and step, not timid, but steady, to shore
knowing I am both tide and timeless stone.
try to make sure each person you meet—
walks away happier than they arrived
I admit it. My philosophy has always been, "There's no such thing as a stranger, just a friend I haven't met yet." So, yes, I'll start a conversation while waiting in line at the grocery store. I'll help old people across the street, though most times I'm the one that could use the help. I say, 'Thank You", "Please" and "Have a wonderful day". I try to have a smile even though I'm sad. It comes from being raised by parents that had next to nothing but was always willing to share what they did have. A mom who showed only love and a father who gladly shared his gift of gab.
I'm not saying that my temper never gets the best of me. When it does, it flies out of my mouth like a sailor on meth. but usually, it fades quickly. Now that I'm a little older and I hope a little wiser, I try to keep it hidden. I am trying to look at things from the other person's perspective.
Many times, I've been told by my children that I am too friendly. But I don't think that's possible. A smile, a tip of the hat, a friendly wave, holding the door, letting someone merge onto your lane all cost nothing. Yet the rewards might be more than you can ever expect. Besides, who couldn't use another friend.
I await you,
Day and night,
Even my dreams are honoured by your presence
I await you,
To meet your comforting eyes,
Lost in a world of its glory
A beauty no spoken words can describe
I await you
Are you so merciless?
Keeping me so desperate,
Like a sailor to his lost ship
Hopeless, yet so assured by his deceiving thoughts
I await you,
Craving you scent
Craving your touch
Are you so merciless?
Are you so blind?
Rubbing salt on a wounded man
Open your eyes my dear,
Will you see my hopeless pleas?
Or will my wait be never ending?
Even then,
I shall await you
A contagious illness regarded as being caused by sin
Like a rag soiled by sewage filth, meant only to be thrown
The sick suffered each moment like a fish without a fin.
He did not have, even in his home, a place of his own.
Pain, sadness, loneliness, anxiety, and rejection
The sin stigma, like a permanent tattoo, stuck to him.
Like a link broken chain, he had no social connection.
Pain pierced, like a needle, each bone and vein of his limb
He yearns, like a thirsty man in the desert, for healing.
Who'd do this? Who is so kind? He knew that there's only one.
Like a shipwrecked sailor, he cried out to Jesus, pleading
Brim-filled with faith, he knew well that his battle would be won.
He felt the Jesus touch as a soothing sunshine of dawn.
His stigmas and decays were gone; in Christ, he was reborn.
Blue
Ocean
Waves crashes
In the shore rocks
Preambling, imminent storm in the sky
Fishes are jumping out of the water
Serving as bait
For hungry
Seagulls
Flock
A
Sailor
Is fighting
To preserve life
Sailing his wood boat toward the beachshore
For Triple Tetractys Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
Second Place
7-8-16
Rising again, furnished with a bright dream
That led me to a noble path, graced with loving memories
So, i'm moving away from moment of despair
Looking to continue loving my purpose in life
For I refused to give up my treasured dream
Find meaning from every trial, with hope in my pocket
So, I had faith to keep going on, rising again and again-
-And planting seeds of hope with devoted heart
Making me a sailor with triumphant dream
Ready to move on, withstand other storms
While listening to melodies from deep waters
Charming my spirit, and making me embrace new sense of being
So, I keep rising, and rising again, love waiting on my new path
To carry me through a fulfilling journey
For I always believed, happines is forever in the midst of everything
Anytime, everywhere, it will always come to free me
LONE SAILOR
Restless river ceaseless flows.
Boatman floats boat and rows.
Me! A lone sailor rowing boat on tears just aimless
Ruffling water on stroke of oar.
Brittle ripples thrash on shore.
Haply you have come to lend your hand! My princess.
Boat raising little splashing sound.
Breeze blows, leaves murmur around.
You boarded my boat, wiped my tears! Joy is boundless
Restless river runs and rushes,
makes way through bushes
Now I know, life is majestic, wonderful, peerless.
Passing towns, or farming land
on river bank or solitary strand.
On joint journey, we are free and careless.
Restless river turns back never,
but flows and flows for forever.
I wish you should come in my young days to impress.
11/24/17
Wish I Knew You when I was Young Contest by Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Third Place
Over the tumultuous high sea in dismal night
The pole star may disappear out of sight
Behind the shroud of the tempest cloud
The home-bound agonized sailor
You lose the sense of direction in your voyage.
The feeling of despondence you abandon
The heavenly horizon will rise with hope
In the sunburst new dawn
Defining the yonder sparkling shore
For you to be in the realm of ecstasy.
You need to traverse as ordained
The tough landscape called life
Following the tortuous track uncertain
You may lose the rhythm of footsteps
Find yourself plunged within an abyss.
The sense of helplessness you discard
For you’ll find the almighty’s hands extended
To lift you up from the depth of chasm
You’ll reach the fulfilling end of godly intent
At the end of the devout journey.
Entangled in the web of attachment
You may be lost in the labyrinth of living
In the pervading darkness of enveloping doom
Find the exit doors closing one by one
Search for the escape route may seem futile.
Inculcate in the besieged mind the faith in God
He’ll bestow blessings instilling the sense of hope
For at the end of the tormenting tunnel
You’ll see the divine light shining bright
Guide you to the precinct of joyous salvation.
___________________
February 4, 2022
Contest : Encourage
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
Morning is but the infant day
Born of the womb of time.
A babe that speaks to those that hear
A language so sublime.
The sky with blood from birth is stained
Foretells of coming rain.
Red sky at night is his delight
At dawn a sad refrain.
That sailor in that ship at sea
That farmer by the brook
They know the signs, they read the sky
Like you or I a book.
While wet or dry this day shall be
Both yours and mine to keep.
Until it's hours reach 24
And then it too shall sleep.
Why gaze we then at painted sky
And dwell upon this thought?
Let's merrily go forth and live
This day that time has wrought