The ocean is my morning commute
where I set sail on my Yahama Outboard
with nothing but tradewinds, waves,
currents and salt air with no traffic in sight
I can take the ocean roads
around the Atlantic
on my limestone archipelago
of the sun, sand and sea
from Grand Bahama and Abaco
on the Little Bahama Bank
to Inagua on the Great Bahama Bank
I can cross the Tongue of the Ocean
from New Providence to Andros
to view the depth at 6,000 feet
and Exuma Sound to visit
the southeast side of Eleuthera
and the western end of Cat Island
I can drive down south to the Bight of Acklins
to visit the secluded beaches
on Acklins, Crooked Island and Long Cay
or to the Ragged Island Range
an archipelago within an archipelago
and travel back up north
to the Cay Sal and Great Isaac Banks
and even travel through the Florida Straits
when I need a vacation getaway to Miami
The skiff chug's along
toward the end of the lake
where the tall peaks are.
When I cut the outboard
high snowcapped mountains
dived down into the still water,
below,
eagles flew under the hull.
A panoramic sky rolled under me.
my red and yellow float
became briefly entangled in
a high white cloud.
A fat trout slipped around a deep sun.
No way to catch that.
A cigarette
Dawn and the mist, what else expect
On Lake Martin early spring?
Swamp cypress dripping with Spanish moss.
I have stopped rowing, water swirling around
Oar blades.
The silence is absolute; I dare not inhale
A bird shrieks, the lake shudders
An evil thought has entered Paradise.
I hear the faint noise of outboard motors
The moment of ethereal stillness was gone,
I lit a cigarette smoke inhale, blow
Rings of delight in the morning air.
The Slight Light of the Moon
David J Walker
Everyone is in
Everyone is done
Everyone
under the sun
is in the same boat
It’s a big boat
It’s a tugboat
It’s a lifeboat
That won’t float
On Solipsism’s alone
It’s an
Oceanliner the color of
October with a canoe
And an outboard motorboat
Lost on an ocean stretching
As far across the Milky Way as
The naked eye …
Oh say, can you see, anything
Beyond vituperate inflictions
Fired from the big guns
From the map of a compendiums instructions
The first-rate illustrations are
Lost in Space and Time
The Big Boat is mine
The small boat is fine
But it’s yours
Everyone on the dreamboat
Will slowly float
Into the slight light of
The moon
The outboard chugged along
toward the end of the lake
where the tall peaks were.
When the motor cut, all was still.
Then snowcapped mountains
began to rise-up from the lake;
eagles flew under our hull.
Imagine staring at your float,
humped like a heron over the bow
while a panoramic sky
moved under your boots.
Imagine Rainbow trout
sailing around the sun.
No way to catch that.
Wind is swinging boat, it’s frail
on a shoulder of a wave,
Stranger’s bored in it, thoughts sail
full of laziness, they save
idleness, he wants no sailing
And he doesn’t want his oar,
Cares are hard and he is blaming
Scary sea, it’s cold, what for
He’s in boat? He goes out fishing,
But the sky is empty so,
Splash, the bait’s outboard, snake's wishing
to gulp down it, he wants more.
Fishing rod is getting serpent
Among pieces of the ice
from the deep, he suffers torment,
Stranger’s got him as some prize.
He is laughing, laugh is bearing
Cruel undefeated storm,
Stranger shouts, you are the very
Very snake you’re Midgardorm!
Snake has risen over stranger,
Air poisoned with the smoke,
Land was shaken loudly, anger
leads the snake into the fog.
Snake is gone, the rod is broken
And discussion is no more,
See you later, snake, you’re woken
by the brave and mighty Thor.
Dangerous Encounter
It was a June Saturday after dinner I walked along the docks
and noticed a man I knew putting crates of beer on his boat that
had an outboard motor. He lived on the other side of the bay and
invited me to come along and I accepted. In the middle of the bay,
The man slowed the motor his face was white as Arctic icicles, eyes
like burning lumps of lava, I felt cold and was in immense danger.
The man said: “if the boat capsized I could swim ashore, could you?”
His boat had oars I picked up one and placed it across my knees.
The man looked as he was making a move, I said: “I would not do this
if I were you.” At the pier I helped him taking the beer ashore, I didn’t
accept his invitation to come up to his house for a drink.
While waiting for the regular ferry, I had coffee at the local cafe and
noticed my hands were still shaking after my narrow escape from
a man who had murder in his heart.
Summer market is crowded,
I shall not be found missing.
Nothing like withered leaves
Or disappearing winter birds
But angels in swimming trunks
Pressing men to praise the posh.
In the shinning summer sun,
I shall ignite my motorised Ferrari bike,
Take a cruising ride to the countryside;
Visiting the burgs , the gladiators' square,
And the tombs of the great that ever be.
I shall return in my outboard boat
With wine and flesh for bar-be-cue
And spread my mat by the river side
Upon the well trimmed bermuda grass.
You shall know me when I return;
Sweet Summer Sun shall be my tent.
Jan 4,2015.
Heah buddy, can you spare
a rhyme, a dime, the time
to care (how rare) if truth
be known or to tell a lie
about washing ton's cherry
cut down into sticks to build
a house on the prairie
where Georgie kisses all the girls
who never just say no.
Heah buddy, lets go up
a lazy river with the sounds
of outboard motors as
everyones oar is already
three sheets into some zephyr
and I oughter stop this
nonsensical play with
alphabets' soup but such fun
in a pun or cliche or, perhaps,
its whimsy ... nah, too flimsy
a word to disturb your senses.
And, two cents is
about all this is worth, hey buddy?
To those who have done prep
Prep up for break, hanging in morning dew
Made fast with sailing twine, awaiting dawn
Brass belaying pin holding halyard to
I glimpse across harbor, Third Fleet’s mowed lawn
My eyes upon OTC, I await
One whistle, the yellow and green closed up
As I snap nylon, open pennant break
Out she flies into the morning, sun up
Tie her off and break third sub, black and white
Three whistles and downward goes, out night light
Rolled and made, starboard, outboard back up tight,
Downhaul tied, gleaming pin, ready for night
My sunrise duty, flags to break and make
In paradise the day begins like cake.
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