Crossing the Atlantic
We sail out of season into on oyster-gray wind,
over a terrible hardness.
Where Dickens crossed with mal de mer
in twenty weeks or twenty days
I cross toward him in five.
Wraped in robes-
not like Caesar but like liver with bacon-
I rest on the stern
burning my mouth with a wind-hot ash,
watching my ship
bypass the swells
as easily as an old woman reads a palm.
I think; as I look North, that a field of mules
lay down to die.
The ship is 27 hours out.
I have entered her.
She might be a whale,
sleeping 2000 and ship's company,
the last 40¢ martini
and steel staterooms where night goes on forever.
Being inside them is, I think,
the way one would dig into a planet
and forget the word light.
I have walked cities,
miles of mole alleys with carpets.
Inside I have been ten girls who speak French.
They languish everywhere like bedsheets.
Oh my Atlantic of the cracked shores,
those blemished gates of Rockport and Boothbay,
those harbor smells like the innards of animals!
Old childish Queen, where did you go,
you bayer at wharfs and Victorian houses?
I have read each page of my mother's voyage.
I have read each page of her mother's voyage.
I have learned their words as they learned Dickens'.
I have swallowed these words like bullets.
But I have forgotten the last guest-terror.
Unlike them, I cannot toss in the cabin
as in childbirth.
Now always leaving me in the West
is the wake,
a ragged bridal veil, unexplained,
seductive, always rushing down the stairs,
never detained, never enough.
The ship goes on
as though nothing else were happening.
Generation after generation,
I go her way.
She will run East, knot by knot, over an old bloodstream,
stripping it clear,
each hour ripping it, pounding, pounding,
forcing through as through a virgin.
Oh she is so quick!
This dead street never stops!
poem by Anne Sexton
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Related quotes
When My Ship Comes In
No sun on the rockies, not even the light of day
I feel that old cabin fever coming on
But I know where Ill be when lady luck finally blows my way
Shell put the wind in my sails and Ill be gone
It wont be long before my ship comes in
Gonna sail right out of colorado
Catch a ride on a warm trade wind to puerta no-one-knows
Shell find me waiting when my ship comes in
Gonna board and go whichever way the wind blows
Ill be off to find myself once again in puerta no-one-knows
When my ship comes in
Maybe Im only dreaming but it sure seems real
Somehow the wind doesnt chill quite to the bone
Or could it just be the fever Im running on an uneven keel
Not losing sight of why Im up here alone
Chorus
It wont be long before my ship comes in
Shell find me waiting when my ship comes in
It wont be long before my ship comes in
Shell find me waiting when my ship comes in
When my ship comes in
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Ship Comes In
(dylan)
Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be a breezin
Like the stillness in the wind
For the hurricane begins
The hour when the ship comes in
Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the shoreline sands will be shaken
Then the tide will sound and the wind will pound
And the morning will be breakin
Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls theyll be smilin
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand
The hour that the ship comes in
And the words they use
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they are spoken
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And be buried at the bottom of the ocean
Verse 2
A song will lift as the main sail shifts
And the boat drifts onto the shoreline
And the sun will respect every face on the deck
The hour when the ship comes in
Then the sands will roll out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a touchin
And the ships wise men will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ship That Never Returned
On a summer's day while the waves were rippling, with a quiet and a gentle breeze;
A ship set sail with a cargo laden for a port beyond the sea.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
There were sad farewells, there were friends forsaken, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander on a ship that never returned.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
Said a feeble lad to his aged mother, I must cross that deep blue sea,
For I hear of a land in the far off country, where there's health and strength for me.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
'Tis a gleam of hope and a maze of danger, and our fate is still to learn,
And a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
Said this feeble lad to his aged mother, as he kissed his weeping wife,
"Just one more purse of that golden treasure, it will last us all through life.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
"Then we'll live in peace and joy together and enjoy all I have earned."
So they sent him forth with a smile and blessing on a ship that never returned.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Homeland Africa
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi
Down the ocean a ship comes sailing through the waves
Filled with hundreds of men they take as slaves
Just long for their true homeland africa
And to be saved they want to be free
Men women and babyslaves
Coming to the land of liberty, liberty
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi...
They are tired of waiting for a brand new day
Some of them sing and chant some of them pray
And some men got a little tired too
No one knows if the journey pay
Men women and babyslaves
Coming to the land of liberty, liberty
Ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi ship ahoi...
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We were all on this ship in the sixties, our generation, a ship going to discover the New World. And the Beatles were in the crow's nest of that ship.
quote by John Lennon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Captain2
He stands at the tiller
of a age old ship
that drifts upon
stormy waters
and the wind rips past
with a sharp chill
and the ship sail
like she forever will.
Caught between reality
and a place
that few ever see
the ghostly form
still steer that ship
to where destiny
bides her to go.
Some people think of it
as a trick of light
and others swear
of it to be there,
but no science
or chart can track
the way that she goes
and know why
her Captain lives forever more.
poem by Gert Strydom
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How’s My Boy?
“HO, Sailor of the sea!
How’s my boy—my boy?”
“What’s your boy’s name, good wife,
And in what good ship sail'd he?”
“My boy John— He that went to sea—
What care I for the ship, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.
“You come back from sea,
And not know my John?
I might as well have ask’d some landsman
Yonder down in the town.
There ’s not an ass in all the parish
But he knows my John.
“How’s my boy—my boy?
And unless you let me know
I’ll swear you are no sailor,
Blue jacket or no,
Brass buttons or no, sailor,
Anchor and crown or no!
Sure his ship was the ‘Jolly Briton’”—
“Speak low, woman, speak low!”
“And why should I speak low, sailor,
About my own boy John?
If I was loud as I am proud
I’d sing him over the town!
Why should I speak low, sailor?”
“That good ship went down.”
“How’s my boy—my boy?
What care I for the ship, sailor?
I was never aboard her.
Be she afloat or be she aground,
Sinking or swimming, I’ll be bound,
Her owners can afford her!
I say, how’s my John?”
“Every man on board went down,
Every man aboard her.”
“How’s my boy—my boy?
What care I for the men, sailor?
I’m not their mother—
How’s my boy—my boy?
Tell me of him and no other!
How ’s my boy—my boy?”
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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The Three Bells
BENEATH the low-hung night cloud
That raked her splintering mast
The good ship settled slowly,
The cruel leak gained fast.
Over the awful ocean
Her signal guns pealed out.
Dear God! was that Thy answer
From the horror round about?
A voice came down the wild wind,
'Ho! ship ahoy!' its cry
'Our stout Three Bells of Glasgow
Shall lay till daylight by!'
Hour after hour crept slowly,
Yet on the heaving swells
Tossed up and down the ship-lights,
The lights of the Three Bells!
And ship to ship made signals,
Man answered back to man,
While oft, to cheer and hearten,
The Three Bells nearer ran;
And the captain from her taffrail
Sent down his hopeful cry
'Take heart! Hold on!' he shouted;
'The Three Bells shall lay by!'
All night across the waters
The tossing lights shone clear;
All night from reeling taffrail
The Three Bells sent her cheer.
And when the dreary watches
Of storm and darkness passed,
Just as the wreck lurched under,
All souls were saved at last.
Sail on, Three Bells, forever,
In grateful memory sail!
Ring on, Three Bells of rescue,
Above the wave and gale!
Type of the Love eternal,
Repeat the Master's cry,
As tossing through our darkness
The lights of God draw nigh!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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The Hospital Ship
There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a crimson cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
Lazily bearing my friend away,
Leaving me dull-sensed loss.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Numb is my heart, but you carelessly dip
There in the drift of the bay.
There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Dim as the distance grows,
Speedily steaming out of the bay,
Speedily bearing my friend away
Into the orange-rose.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Dim are my eyes, but you heedlessly slip
Out of their sight from the bay.
There was a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a blood-red cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
But it went out with the light of the day -
Out where the white seas toss.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Cold are my hands and trembling my lip:
Did you make home from the bay?
poem by W.H. Littlejohn
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Voyage of life
Life is a ship on a long voyage
in an instable sea
The sea sometimes clam
The sail so smooth
With immense tranquility
The ship moves gracefully
Without any hurry
Sans any tension
It just glides smoothly
In sync with the sea
Sea sometimes fuming
The voyage becomes a challenge
Destination becomes out of focus
There is no one to guide
Sturdy tides trying to block us
And trying to break us down
And we do tend to lose hope
Sometimes it gets tougher
And we are ready to quit
But when the going gets tougher
And tougher gets the going
We just need a light house
To guide us through the dark
It brings the destination in focus
And gives us the needed boost
And the rest lies in our spirit
And determination to fight
But once we learn to struggle
And do not give up till last breath
We would definitely reach the shore
And our name would be written
All over the sea
The sea would be a witness
Of our great achievements
Telling tales of our success
To the future generation
Giving them the needed inspiration
To follow our foot steps
poem by Kavitha Krishnamurthy
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The Rock of Lauralee
I stood on the rock of
lauralee
silently looking out
to sea
could hear the howling
of the wind
as it came rushng round
the bend
watched your ship sail
out to sea
leaving the port of
lauralee
each day I return to
view
looking at the sea so
blue
scanning the horizon, no
ship in sight
perhaps a phantom in the
night
today I'm standing here
again
watching your ship rounding
the bend
catching you in the misty
air
my heart leaped to meet
you there
once more invited home
with me
standing on the rock of
lauralee.
poem by Heather Burns
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Going To Paris
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
As the storm gathers slowly
We eat fishheads and snails
The mate jumps up, throws down a line
To a man overboard for the ninetieth time
And then he says with a wink
Sometimes I think
Ive been doing this forever!
We are going to paris
In a ship called the ? ?
There are signs in the sky at night
That the captain says hes seen
I keep books under my pillow
And read them before I sleep
Strange places I go to,
Strange companies I keep
We are going to paris
We are one and thirty strong
I can feel it in the air
Well be there before long
The wind has come
Like a man insane, insane
We are going to paris
It rains and it rains
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Harbor
Emis - young, twenty-eight-
reached this Syrian harbor in a Tenian ship,
his plan to learn the incense trade.
But ill during the voyage,
he died as soon as he was put ashore.
His burial, the poorest possible, took place here.
A few hours before dying he whispered something
about 'home', about 'very old parents.'
But nobody he called home
in the great pan Hellenic world.
Better that way; because as it is,
though he lies buried in this harbor,
his parents will always have the hope he's still alive.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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The Ship of Oak
When the bow-waves race through the foam
and aft are the boiling trails,
What ship is that in the fading light
with the press and the wind in her sails?
When the salvo flashes through the smoke
and the stricken cruisers reel,
Behold a pennoned ship of oak
That leads the ships of steel!
Through storms of lashing hail
When the green swells life and gleam,
What sailor now commands the Fleet?
The Captain of a dream:
When battle thunders to the shock
Or while the gulls go swerving by,
He leads the Fleet in a ship of oak,
One arm and blinded eye.
poem by Herbert Asquith
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Musician's Tale; The Ballad of Carmilhan - II.
The jolly skipper paused awhile,
And then again began;
'There is a Spectre Ship,' quoth he,
'A ship of the Dead that sails the sea,
And is called the Carmilhan.
'A ghostly ship, with a ghostly crew,
In tempests she appears;
And before the gale, or against the gale,
She sails without a rag of sail,
Without a helmsman steers.
'She haunts the Atlantic north and south,
But mostly the mid-sea,
Where three great rocks rise bleak and bare
Like furnace-chimneys in the air,
And are called the Chimneys Three.
'And ill betide the luckless ship
That meets the Carmilhan;
Over her decks the seas will leap,
She must go down into the deep,
And perish mouse and man.'
The captain of the Valdemar
Laughed loud with merry heart.
'I should like to see this ship,' said he;
'I should like to find these Chimneys Three,
That are marked down in the chart.
'I have sailed right over the spot,' he said
'With a good stiff breeze behind,
When the sea was blue, and the sky was clear,--
You can follow my course by these pinholes here,--
And never a rock could find.'
And then he swore a dreadful oath,
He swore by the Kingdoms Three,
That, should he meet the Carmilhan,
He would run her down, although he ran
Right into Eternity!
All this, while passing to and fro,
The cabin-boy had heard;
He lingered at the door to hear,
And drank in all with greedy ear,
And pondered every word.
He was a simple country lad,
But of a roving mind.
'Oh, it must be like heaven,' thought he,
'Those far-off foreign lands to see,
And fortune seek and find!'
But in the fo'castle, when he heard
The mariners blaspheme,
He thought of home, he thought of God,
And his mother under the churchyard sod,
And wished it were a dream.
One friend on board that ship had he;
T was the Klaboterman,
Who saw the Bible in his chest,
And made a sign upon his breast,
All evil things to ban.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ship Of Fools
Hello europe here we are, everything is easy
Lets cross the border without stop
Italian pasta mixed with fine french wine would be great
My stomach knows no state
Blond girls from sweden
And if thats garden of eden
I think thats o.k.
Turkish dope found a license of the pope
Dont think thats the only way.
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools
Allright!
Belgium beer with a jgermeister-deer
Thats why we here, I think this ones not for you
And swiss francs brought to polish banks
Thats life! a hard bone to chew
I dont want no austrians be instructors
In my home I guess theres something better
Spanish guitars combined with twenty german tubas
That wont work but it really doesnt matter
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools...
Allright!
Hey, hey!
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools cheers!
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools just watch it!
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a sink in a ship of fools
A shipper of a ship of fools, what part is that?
Europe rules, europe rules
Europe rules, watch your fools!
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Cruiser
HERE 's the old cruiser, 'Twenty-nine,
Forty times she 's crossed the line;
Same old masts and sails and crew,
Tight and tough and as good as new.
Into the harbor she bravely steers
Just as she 's done for these forty years,
Over her anchor goes, splash and clang!
Down her sails drop, rattle and bang!
Comes a vessel out of the dock
Fresh and spry as a fighting-cock,
Feathered with sails and spurred with steam,
Heading out of the classic stream.
Crew of a hundred all aboard,
Every man as fine as a lord.
Gay they look and proud they feel,
Bowling along on even keel.
On they float with wind and tide,--
Gain at last the old ship's side;
Every man looks down in turn,--
Reads the name that's on her stern.
'Twenty-nine!--Diable you say!
That was in Skipper Kirkland's day!
What was the Flying Dutchman's name?
This old rover must be the same.
'Ho! you Boatswain that walks the deck,
How does it happen you're not a wreck?
One and another have come to grief,
How have you dodged by rock and reef?'
Boatswain, lifting one knowing lid,
Hitches his breeches and shifts his quid
'Hey? What is it? Who 's come to grief
Louder, young swab, I 'm a little deaf.'
'I say, old fellow, what keeps your boat
With all you jolly old boys afloat,
When scores of vessels as good as she
Have swallowed the salt of the bitter sea?
'Many a crew from many a craft
Goes drifting by on a broken raft
Pieced from a vessel that clove the brine
Taller and prouder than 'Twenty-nine.
'Some capsized in an angry breeze,
Some were lost in the narrow seas,
Some on snags and some on sands
Struck and perished and lost their hands.
'Tell us young ones, you gray old man,
What is your secret, if you can.
We have a ship as good as you,
Show us how to keep our crew.'
So in his ear the youngster cries;
Then the gray Boatswain straight replies:--
'All your crew be sure you know,--
Never let one of your shipmates go.
'If he leaves you, change your tack,
Follow him close and fetch him back;
When you've hauled him in at last,
Grapple his flipper and hold him fast.
'If you've wronged him, speak him fair,
Say you're sorry and make it square;
If he's wronged you, wink so tight
None of you see what 's plain in sight.
'When the world goes hard and wrong,
Lend a hand to help him along;
When his stockings have holes to darn,
Don't you grudge him your ball of yarn.
'Once in a twelvemonth, come what may,
Anchor your ship in a quiet bay,
Call all hands and read the log,
And give 'em a taste of grub and grog.
'Stick to each other through thick and thin;
All the closer as age leaks in;
Squalls will blow and clouds will frown,
But stay by your ship till you all go down!'
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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When The Ship Comes In
Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin.
Like the stillness in the wind
fore the hurricane begins,
The hour when the ship comes in.
Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
Then the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the morning will be breaking.
Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls theyll be smiling.
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand,
The hour that the ship comes in.
And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as theyre spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean.
A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline.
And the sun will respect
Every face on the deck,
The hour that the ship comes in.
Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin.
And the ships wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin.
Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And theyll jerk from their beds and think theyre dreamin.
But theyll pinch themselves and squeal
And know that its for real,
The hour when the ship comes in.
Then theyll raise their hands,
Sayin well meet all your demands,
But well shout from the bow your days are numbered.
And like pharaohs tribe,
Theyll be drownded in the tide,
And like goliath, theyll be conquered.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Ship Comes In
Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin
Like the stillness in the wind
fore the hurricane begins
The hour when the ship comes in
Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking
Then the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the morning will be breaking
Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls theyll be smiling
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand
The hour that the ship comes in
And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as theyre spoken
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean
A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat that drifts on to the shore line
And the sun will respect
Every face on the deck
The hour that the ship comes in
Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a touchin
And the ships wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin
Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And theyll jerk from their beds and think theyre still dreamin
But theyll pinch themselves and squeel
And know that its for real
The hour that the ship comes in
Then theyll raise their hands
Sayin well meet all your demands
But well shout from the bow your days are numbered
And like pharaohs tribe
Theyll be drownded in the tide
And like goliath theyll be conquered
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the Prow
Strange, silent East! Across the solemn calm
The slender ship outward and onward strives,
Bearing to odorous shores of date and palm
The burden of a hundred little lives.
On a like course drift I toward the verge
Beyond which lies what now I may not know;
Yet my heart whispers these gray wastes of surge
Stretch whither it is good for me to go.
Youth, like the speeding sun, left far behind—
Unanswered questions mutely sent before—
Oh, great, dim East, what welcome shall I find
When thy wide arms unveil the distant shore?
The prow knows not the harbor that it nears,
Nor I if thou shalt bring the seeker rest:—
Yet the strong hand the fragile ship that steers
Will guide her to the haven that is best!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1896)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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