Tugboats Poems

Just Being Here

Tugboats glide up river
towards their twilight rendezvous.
The trees on the far bank
are filling with birds gathering
for their nightly roost. 
I have come here 
to take in the calm, to make
my peace.

I never know what to say,
what words to use that haven't 
been spoken a hundred times
before or what to request when 
all has been said and done. 
My prayers now are silence, 
the same that lay at the core of trees
and in the depths of the river.

There is a joy that almost
breaks the surface but seems
to submerge when I draw near.
The evening is all around
and if I close my eyes 
and be still, I no longer know 
where I begin or where I end. 
It's enough just being here.

Tranquil Tomato Broth

Easy spirit. Bones erased into dust. Much heavy man made nothing in seconds. 
Justice is meaningless before the mountains of death 
Harmony in silence
Waking inside a spider web of my own creation
Junk food makes me sleepy
Questions of hunger before teas and tugboats
Submarines lost and tough guy laid waste 
Inside I saw myself dancing before the mirrors
Quiet noise. around the play area I am King
Near the river bed I saw my reflection in the water
awake and dancing. She saw me silent cleaning the walls
Missions of wine tasting
meaningless words lacking soul
Heaven destroyed by need for more
I walked today in the direction of the moon
Zoo sights and senses as I am tossed into the cell
Who is my doctor if not a foolish animal
I am my own God but lacking in meaning
I am the devil but without a spirit to rule
We are The beginning without a time to cease

Strummaz Motiff

The green leafed tree in the harbor.
There the freights are advanced.
Sailors with quality tools, while 
diners feast and play chess. The edge
Of the merchants dine hall has a Blindspot
where tugboats honk there horn to
enter the harbor. A large pile of bones
where the chef has stacked them, for
the jewelers to retrieve them to make
Carved ornaments for tourist and others.
We find there Snorkel and Algae two
Fiddlers who play music while diners
Eat at the Surfin Toot restaurant.
"Anchors ah shore maties, Anchors ah-
Shore!"

Captain Morse Pierconn
USS Snorkelcraft

Chauffeur play'd Hymn
But didn't play me
Swift sung to her
But didn't sing to me
People like song
But didn't like me
What we gon do
What we gon do
Indough neigh ah
Ah beautiful ismuss
Brazilian strings
A pretty lady
We sing ah song
But song don't
Sing me
We sing ah song
Of love!

bunnies in the water

distress alarm went out over the Dunkirk Sea
french bunnies in the water, capsized, maybe three
tugboats and rowboats raced to try and help
argentine bunnies were pulled out wearing gooey kelp

I rescued four, Michigan, a freighter captain said.
we have five here, announced my uncle Fred.
altogether they rescued nineteen bunnies that day.
boats of every color and country, many from far away.

Walking In the Dark

It’s magic walking in the dark,
The sidewalks empty, shadows stark
And dogs have not begun to bark;
There’s promise in the air.

The birds are waking in the park,
Each chirp a beak-to-beak remark
And on the river, tugboats hark,
En route to who-knows-where.

When daylight breaks I disembark
From reveries the pre-dawns spark
As I confront the question mark
Of how the day will fare.

Where Tugboats Turn Ships

It happens mostly out of sight, 
under cover of the world,
life ebbing away or is seized
by a claw or fang, suffering
in corners, enduring what fate
cruelly inflicts. Each night, 
millions die, are torn, choked, 
or swallowed whole
or simply wear out leaving
no trace or a word anywhere.

Yesterday, 
I saw a solitary swan
up river from the bridge
slowly heading out from the bank
and into the channel 
where tugboats turn ships
before sliding them 
sideways into dock.
Mid river, it held up both wings
and began to flap and look
for speed and lift in the still air.
One wing seemed unable
to travel the full arc of its
flighted sweep and soon
gave out to leave the swan
floundering lopsided until
it gathered in its wounded wing
and settle it back slightly askew
into its cradle and then paddled
off into the past leaving
its wake to linger here for awhile 
before it withers away
into the endless still of oblivion.

Sounds

There were evenings
when you could hear - way off -
tugboats signaling to each other
with short blasts
from their horn
as they pushed and nudged
a ship into port.
Or the rumble and clang
of hatches closing
over cavernous holds
at the end of a night shift.
And occasionally a siren wailing
as if some unfathomable grief
was being hauled
raw and naked
along indifferent streets.

Then all would contract
to whispers and scratchings
on the walls of a fevered brain
as if someone or something
was trying to get in,
held back by a breathless pause
to magnify and be given a name,
lest squeezed shapeless 
through the narrow opening
of an ear
to fester and inflame.

In Praise of Barge Workers

Wind sweeps down the side of the mountain
Crosses tracks and flings itself across the river,
First slapping against the sides of the tugboats
Causing the deckhands to shiver and curse
As they check the lashing between the barges,
Several days before they reach the sun
And longer still before arriving at the delta,
In the meantime, they work as fast as they can
with pea coats fastened against oncoming blasts
Of bitter chill, and careful avoiding icy patches
On the walkways of the behemoths they tame
Young men romanticize working on the river,
Unaware of the dangers, seems an easy job.
They do not know of bodies mangled, crushed 
Chain unhitched, a single misstep, a sudden jerk
When least expected, pay beneficiaries for a life.

written December 9, 2021

More Musings

Seagulls squawk and pigeons coo;
What they’re saying – I’ve no clue.
They just do what they must do
To make it in the city.

Ferries float and tugboats tug;
Friends meet up and give a hug.
Maybe readers sigh and shrug – 
More musings? ‘Tis a pity!

Still, I sit outside and write
At my favorite local site,
Gazing to my heart’s delight
At views I find so pretty…

Tugboats and the Moon

Other places have their charms,
Like oceans, mountains, forests, farms
And I can visit and admire
Why they match someone’s desire

Yet no matter where I roam,
The city is, for me, my home.
Back in town from out of state, 
My river walk did me await

And right away, what did I see?
A perfect moon, there just for me
And then, beneath that glowing sliver,
Gliding past upon the river

Two cool tugboats made me smile,
Doing tugboat work in style.
Mountains may make many swoon
But give me tugboats and the moon.

A Black Tie of Course

Yes, I do have a black tie he said
He showed up with it stuck to his head
His wife was not classy
Her gown was quite trashy
They were escorted to the flower bed

The next couple was luckier than that
They brought along a dog and a cat
hidden in their coats
Were put onto tugboats
Tossed out to sea past the graveyard flat

Blockage of the Suez Canal

More than fifty ships go through the Suez Canal on any day.
However, a very large freighter has blocked the passageway.
The ship called the "Ever Given" comes from a company in Taiwan.
Unsuccessful efforts to move the vessel have been going on.
Tugboats and personnel are trying to get the big ship free.
Meanwhile, hundreds of other craft have been stalled on the sea.
This incident is having a negative impact on the world economy.

From a story found in the Los Angeles Times.

Maddened Tempest Slams

Fierce tempest slams its maddened jeer
    while gush of flood crashes offshore ;
 then to our village…loud winds roar
as piercing thunder grows severe:
    Upon tide's  crest pale mollusk  floats
  Adrift  in waste, oaks droop away
That  cabins  old swish  in the bay,
Rattling wooden docks and  tugboats.

At last,  end of  hour’s pour  departs --
    glints the sunlight reigning morn’s climb
to lift  day’s  qualm and wake fresh lime,
  of scented air  easing men’s hearts.
In prayer , we ask Mother Earth
    for  weather  tranquil like skies blue ,
vowing to tend nature, anew
  till forests bloom, this life’s rebirth.



8/20/2019
'We would stand a better chance of survival 
if we accommodated ourselves to this planet
and viewed it appreciatively...”  E.B. White
-------------------
Writing Challenge 2, August 2019 –
Enclosed Rhyme Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart

Sailing To America

Leaving the dock, sounding the bells
Captain at stern, strong water swells
Winds give rise, full ahead call
Clear blue sky, no noted squall.

Boston harbor hosting, ships are notable
Schooners to Barque, old and admirable,
Sailing from Europe, Canada and England
Powered by winds, tugboats on hand.

Under the sky, across the sea
Tall ships sail, first view majesty
White masts rise, dressed to parade
Crewmen now salute, flags proudly displayed.

Ropes are taut, winds pass by
Ships now turning, sailors climbing high
Spacious seas accommodate, ships sail proud
Nearer to port, cheers come loud.

Crow’s nest manned, smooth sailing ahead
Through the channel, U.S. Coastguard led,
Viewers on banks, small boats inland
All ships accountable, well in hand. 

Quite an honor, sailing high seas
Hands on deck, standing at ease, 
Coming into port, Bunker Hill insight
Best of all, tall ships delight.

Sunday Scene

The tugboats in the river chug
While motorboats bounce by.
The dogs on leashes sniff the ground
And pigeons peck or fly.

The children with their helmets on
Give training wheels a whirl
While grown-ups check their phones
Or let their newspapers unfurl.

A gentle breeze allows the flags
To flutter, flap and dance
As shirtless men soak up the sun
And no one looks askance.

I sit here on a bench, relaxed,
Content to be outside
To jot these thoughts in comfort
Since I’ve all this time to bide.

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