Far away from the well-traveled trade routes,
In those latitudes few lubbers dare,
Lies a haven of peace and contentment
Called the Island of Don di von Kaire.
When the climate at home turns oppressive
And the tedium’s too much to bear,
You can bask in serene isolation
On the Island of Don di von Kaire.
On the Island of Don di von Kaire,
Feeling apathy blow through your hair;
When the pain comes around,
Let the rum numb it down
And have plenty of ennui to spare.
It’s a mariner’s self-imposed exile
And a castaway’s private affair,
For a spirit marooned in the doldrums
On the Island of Don di von Kaire.
Categories:
lubbers, depression, loneliness, solitude,
Form: Lyric
Harsh winds, salt spray
familiar weight of bloodstained sabre
hanging in a pilfered scabbard
one voice among the mayhem heeded
FULL SAIL - CAPTURE THE WIND
LEST WE BE O'ER TAKEN
BEWARE THE SHOALS!
6/25/2020
Categories:
lubbers, fantasy,
Form: Free verse
Fly with small wings
To admire the serene sky
Hover the nice views
Wing lonely, afar
Recall scenic motherland
Colorful forest
Evergreen mountain
Clean, clear lakes and rivers
Yellowness rice field
Timberland in fire
The human deforestation
Vandalize the nests
The nest shattered
Will rebuild for surviving
Hold up with true song
Challenge all dangers
To keep the powerful mind
Confront the lubbers
Feathers stripped
And the wings and legs broken
Hold up with brave song
Fly with small wings
Stand tall with long-lasting song
Prevail tyranny
Categories:
lubbers, bird, courage, song,
Form: Haiku
ON THE OCEAN WAVES
Ships that toss on the ocean waves have no track
To follow to lead them home by starboard tack,
Do not float abroad by evening star, or wave and throw
Their moorings to the lubbers ashore and below.
They wrest their pathway home from the deep
While landward the dry hills of home rest asleep.
Souls that search endlessly for salvation sure
Have no warrantied way to help them endure,
Cannot take or borrow the time to try new ways
To head ever closer to endless halcyon days.
These poor spirits tread a narrow path of dread,
Never knowing when, but always fearing to be dead.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written on 27 July 2012
Entered in Francine Roberts's Contest On the Ocean Waves
Categories:
lubbers, allegory, home, home, ocean,
Form: Couplet
The ocean’s wide the ocean deep
and in the soup the turtle sleep.
Some live on land and we know that is true,
then we call them tortoise, land lubbers like you.
They been around a long, long, time
longer than man and their extinctions a crime!.
Some like their soup salty some like it plain
so, the ones in lakes we call terrapin.
All of us came from the soup of the sea,
we all have shells though no turtles be we.
Like turtles when scared tend to pull in their heads
hiding like children deep under the bed.
All the lessons here seems very clear
be kind to all creatures in the Soup we have here.
Don’t pull in your neck, stick it right out
For the love of each heart here is what Soup’s about.
Categories:
lubbers, allegory, animals, caregiving, forgiveness,
Form: Couplet