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William Nickerson Poem
On the galley I stood. I could see, a shadowy figure,
wearing a black dress and a hood.
It’s stories I have heard. Legends of a lifeless captain,
his boat and his bird.
Fifty-four I was, till the lifeless captain took me in
his masterpiece, his work, his canvas, a sea made entirely of us.
Wifeless, lifeless, colorless. I was sure it wasn’t alive,
he or she, it, moved like a puppet, soulless.
Whilst waves of memories hit the prow, the figure proceeded to say:
“These memories are you,
your friends,
your family,
I, and where you lay.”
The sentence was punctuated by a loud, distant-yet-near screech.
A black crow with a silver-like beak could be seen by my curiously intrepid eyes.
We reached the docks, and the figure left me beneath the cloudless skies.
Copyright © William Nickerson | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
William Nickerson Poem
Love. For that I am here. And for that,
You are here. Beginners in love and life.
Lovers, with heart and faces made off matt.
Lovers, brothers, all roll the same dice.
Love everywhere, but lovers, go nowhere.
Poets and muses, all half-full-half-empty.
Lovers everywhere, but, love is nowhere.
Time, always slow, became an entity.
A feeling which one can't simply forget,
Yet we have abandoned it many times.
We all own the mighty cupid a debt,
In between all of these great lover's rhymes.
Yet we don't, we can't do what is not right.
No, we can't, let love adrift in the night.
Copyright © William Nickerson | Year Posted 2015
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