Mistaken
1.
Clenched in Snowball Earth's ice viced grip,
survivors hid, shunning sterile shores
and as eternal winter melted, drip by drip,
a forest stitched the silty oceans' floors.
Crinkled spindles and leafy globes open,
man-high, thumbnail thin, sentinel fronds.
Multicellular life, freshly woven,
modules linked and branched with fractal bonds.
Too dark, too deep, to be photosynthetic,
nutrients were gleaned through membranes fluted.
Strewn in an unseen ghostly aesthetic,
not plants but animals, static, rooted.
In places, Earth's belches and coughed ash
sank, killed, coated and cast still life tableaux.
Sediments weighted and imbued the cache,
layer on layer of time-locked plateaus.
Hundreds of millions of years rearranged Earth's wrinkles,
dipped or exposed, buckled crusty scabs.
Pink and white volcanic ash sprinkles
fleck glacier scrubbed pitched grey slabs.
Erosion exposes a false beginning,
fossils of creatures which nature scrapped.
Immobility jinxed their innings,
condemned as unable to adapt.
Minimal repetitive genetic commands,
holdfasts marked by circle and groove,
hint at no scope to meet the demands
of competitors, newly evolved to move.
Failed experiment thwarted by simplicity,
a ‘survival of the fittest' flashpoint.
Outcasts' remains with unknown affinity
on the sculpted rocks of Mistaken Point.
2.
Perched above the Atlantic, fog-wrapped,
fractured cliffs concede a slant ledge outpost.
Raked by winter's storm waves, white-capped,
mariners thread rocks on a shipwreck coast.
'Seabirds on the port bow' the seaman bawled,
a sign of land near, though in truth his ears,
could hardly pick their shrieks from the howling squall.
The mate held their course, discounting his fears.
For hadn't they already rounded the Cape,
heading north for wide ocean, abrim with cod.
Guiding stars blinked through the fog's cold drape.
Watch over, the seaman slept slickered and shod.
But rocks slice schooners as schooners slice waves.
Before the unforgiving night finished,
the elements sent several poor men to sea graves
and swept two to a land ledge, diminished.
The mate and the seaman lay prone and spent,
shaken, grieving for those thought forsaken.
The wind dropped low to a moan, in lament,
the mate whispered 'seems I was mistaken'.
Their hands traced rock indents as some strange braille
and dawn's first horizontal rays,
struck reliefs which told a fossilized tale
of a wrong way course from Pre-Cambrian days.
By mid-morning, the mate and the seaman were found.
By noon, they'd been saved from their plight.
Hauled by hemp rope to the cliff top's safe ground
on a day when a rare sun shone bright.
While waiting for rescue, they'd lain on a page,
a fragment of Life's chronicles disjoint,
a glimpse of a flourishing singular stage,
on the sculpted rocks of Mistaken Point.
poem by Diane Hine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On the mountain top at a seaside?
I saw the ship near the rocks
Her anchor drops
And on the mast
A segull rests!
It's getting darker the sky
And the lights flickering
On board the Vessel.
A Watch-keeper walks on the deck
And a Seaman sits on a bollard
With a fishing rod.
I shouted; 'Have you got a spare cabin
For an old bard and I could have work voluntarily Captain
If it's possible? '
I threw my tattered Seaman's Book
Which was not endorsed since a long time.
O the painful early morning my dream-ship already sailed
To her destined port and I grabbed my old book with a lament!
*[My deceased poor Mom always says; 'The joy of being an old is nothing but sadness.']
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Who Formed The Waters Seeded First Earth Life?
Science claims life on planet earth
has teemed thrived multiplied
diversified for millions of years
then when did earth life begin?
This is one of the greatest mysteries
still waiting to be scientifically unraveled
and the theory is our first life forms
were miraculous one-celled creatures
that appeared on earth about 3 billion years
ago through evolution or Transpermia?
It's life Jim but not as we know it know it?
Who wove first intricate webs of cosmic life?
Who formed the waters seeded first earth life?
Who put together first miraculous one-celled creatures?
For two billion years only single celled organisms exist?
Then suddenly zap single celled organisms began to evolve?
To evolve into multicellular organisms seeding the atmosphere?
Who what caused this unexplained unprecedented
profusion of life in incredibly complex wondrous forms?
Multicellular organisms fill the oceans spanning surface?
Why for eons two billion years only single celled organisms
then suddenly zap multicellular organisms teem in earth seas?
Multicellular organisms adventurers desire crawl from seas?
Why leave primordial primeval seas take up residence on land?
To escape predators
in the ocean when rule
life consumes itself?
Multiplicity cascading chain of new increasingly differentiated
life forms cast appear flourish all over happy bubble blue planet?
Times of merriment paradise periods life prospers proliferates?
Wham bam life is virtually annihilated by an unexplained mass
extinction event first of several mass extinctions in Earth history?
What space time opera clears stage restarts weaves new life forms?
Scientists postulate increasingly look up to space
to explain seemingly clockwork mass extinctions
repeating happening since beginning of living time?
Is earth getting periodically belted by rogue space rocks asteroids?
Comets or is collision of passing neutron stars happening in space?
Too close for comfort to ensure survival of most capsule earth life?
Life tenacious clings to life resolute upon rocks of hope
mass extinctions occur but life seed springs back from brink
life endures clings to home small blue life boat planet earth?
So let us play blue's clues review the last three billion years.
Scientists keep finding new cues as to how life first begins
on earth amazing interesting places volcanic vents deep oceans?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Grey Ocean
While walking on her beach
I met an Ocean
This event will stay with me forever
This is why
While looking very closely at the Ocean,
I noticed that it was Grey
This startled me
I had thought that all Oceans were blue
Not Grey
I looked at the Ocean and said
'Why on earth are you Grey? '
It let out a cry which stated
'Well, because I'm made of stones! '
I asked it why it was stone
It then told me long tale
About how children use to throw rocks at the Ocean
It said that the rocks slowly filled up the Ocean
This anger me greatly
So now
Everytime I see a child throwing rocks at oceans
I tell them the story of the Grey Ocean
They never believe me.
poem by David Corman
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Reise Reise (Arise Arise) (Lyrics.)
Even on the waves there is fighting
Where fish and flesh are woven into sea
One stabs the lance while in the army
Another throws it into the ocean
Ahoy
Arise, arise seaman arise
Each does it in his own way
One thrusts the spear into a man
Another then into the fish
Arise, arise seaman arise
And the waves cry softly
In their blood a spear is lodged
They bleed softly into the ocean
The lance must be drowned in flesh
Fish and man sink to the depths
Where the black soul dwells
there is no light on the horizon
Ahoy
Arise, arise seaman arise
Each does it in his own way
One thrusts the spear into a man
Another then into the fish
Arise, arise seaman arise
And the waves cry softly
In their blood a spear is lodged
They bleed softly into the ocean
Arise, arise seaman arise
And the waves cry softly
In their heart a spear is lodged
They bleed themselves dry on the shore
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morse Moose & The Grey Goose
Right on down at the bottom of the sea
Tell me are you receiving me?
My name is morse moose and Im calling you
The grey goose was a steady boat
People said shes never float
One night when the moon was high
The grey goose flew away
As we were sailing round the rocks
The mate took out his compass box
And said the wind is like a fox
But the grey goose flew away
When out upon the open sea
The admiral, the mate and me
Prepared to face eternity
But the grey goose flew away
She flew into the stormy sea
Davy jones was calling me
But heading for tranquility
The grey goose flew away
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Your Rocks Off
by Bob Dylan
You know, there's two ol' maids layin' in the bed,
One picked herself up an' the other one, she said:
"Get your rocks off!
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get 'em off!)"
Well, you know, there late one night up on Blueberry Hill,
One man turned to the other man and said, with a blood-curdlin' chill, he said:
"Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get 'em off!)"
Well, you know, we was layin' down around Mink Muscle Creek,
One man said to the other man, he began to speak, he said:
"Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get 'em off!)"
Well, you know, we was cruisin' down the highway in a Greyhound bus.
All kinds-a children in the side road, they was hollerin' at us, sayin':
"Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me!
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cruise of the 'In Memoriam
The wan light of a stormy dawn
Gleamed on a tossing ship:
It was the In Memoriam
Upon a mourning trip.
Wild waves were on the windward bow,
And breakers on the lee;
And through her sides the women heard
The seething of the sea.
“O Captain!” cried a widow fair,
Her plump white hands clasped she,
“Thinkst thou, if drowned in this dread storm,
That savèd we shall be?”
“You speak in riddles, lady dear,
How savèd can we be
If we are drowned?” “Alas, I mean
In Paradise!” said she.
“O I’ve sailed North, and I’ve sailed South”
(He was a godless wight),
“But boy or man, since my days began,
That shore I ne’er did sight!”
The Captain told the First Mate bold
What that fair lady said;
The First Mate sneered in his black beard—
His eyes burned in his head.
“Full forty souls are here aboard,
A-sailing on the wave—
Without the crew, and, ’twixt us two,
I think they’ve none to save—
“Full forty souls, and each one is
A mourner, as you know.
They weep the scuppers full; the ship
Is waterlogged with woe.”
Again he sneered in his black beard:
“The cruise is not so brief,
But, ere we land on earthly strand,
All will have found relief.”
“Nay, nay,” the Captain said, “First Mate,
You have forgotten one
With eyes of blue; the tears are true
From those dear eyes that run!
“She mourns her sweetheart drowned last year,
A seaman he, forsooth!
I would not drown for Christ his crown
If she were mine, Fair Ruth!”
“Brave words! but words,” the First Mate cried,
“Are wind! Behold in me
The warmest lover and the last!
Mine shall the maiden be.”
. . . . .
Fair Ruth stood by the taffrail high,
A cross dropped in the sea,
If you lie here, my sweetheart dear,
By this remember me!”
Fair Ruth stood by the taffrail high,
A ring dropped in the sea:
“Marry him not, ye false mermaids,
Married he’s now to me!”
The heavens flashed flame; a black cloud came,
Its wings the sky did span,
And hovered above the fated ship
Like death o’er a dying man.
Bended the spars and shrieked the shrouds,
The sails flew from the mast,
And, like a soul by fiends pursued,
The ship fled through the blast.
“More sail! more sail!” the First Mate cried
(The Captain stood aghast),
“More sail! more sail!” and he laughed in scorn,
All by the mizen mast.
“O brethren dear, there’s nought to fear,
The steward told me so!”
’Twas the parson meek who thus did speak,
Just come up from below:
“And were there,” he said, with upraised head,
And hands clasped piously,
“I have a sainted spouse in Heaven—
I trow she waits for me.”
Then grimly laughed the false First Mate
“Good parson, let her be!
I’ve a wife in every port but that—
And that we shall not see.”
“Oh, pardon seek!” cried the parson meek,
“And pray, if pray you can,
For much I fear, by your scornful sneer,
That you are a sinful man.”
Then louder laughed the false First Mate,
Louder and louder still,
And the wicked crew laughed loudly too,
As wicked seamen will.
“O Captain!” whispered a gentle dame,
“When shall we see the land?”
The Captain answered never a word,
But clasped her by the hand.
. . . . .
Day after day, night after night,
On, on the ship did reel:
The Captain drank with the second mate,
The First Mate held the wheel.
Down came a black cloud on the ship,
And wrapped her like a pall,
And horror of awful darkness fell
Upon them one and all.
The night had swallowed them utterly,
None could his fellow see,
But ghostly voices up and down
Went whispering fearsomely.
No faint ray shone from moon or sun,
The light of Heaven was gone,
But ever the First Mate held the wheel,
And ever the ship rushed on.
. . . . .
Fair Ruth knelt down in that grim gloom,
She prayed beneath her breath:
“God carry me o’er this dread sea
That seems the Sea of Death!”
She ceased—and lo! a lurid glow
O’er that dark water spread,
And in the blackness burned, afar,
A line of bloody red.
“What lights are yon?” the Captain said.
The First Mate answered then:
“No lights that ever shone upon
The world of living men.”
“Down on your knees!” the parson cried;
“Thank God, for all is well!”
The First Mate laughed: “Those lights, they are
The harbour lights of Hell.”
On flew the ship; to every lip
An ashen pallor came,
For all might see that suddenly
The sea had turned to flame.
The lights were near; the Sea of Fear,
Amid the silence dire,
On that dread shore broke evermore
In soundless foam of fire.
“Oh, what are yon gray ghosts and wan!”
The parson cried, “who seem
With coloured strings of beads to play,
As in a dreadful dream?”
“Damned souls;” the First Mate said; “they sit
And count, through endless years,
The moments of Eternity
On beads of burning tears.”
Then, “Who are you,” the parson said,
“That talk so free of Hell?”
“My name is Satan,” he replied,
“Have I not steered you well?”
“Back—back the yards!” the Captain cried
Then quoth the false First Mate:
“Like many more who sight this shore,
You back your yards too late.”
“There are the dear deceased you mourned
With such exceeding zest;
They call you—whoso freely goes
E’en yet may save the rest.”
One pale ghost waved the vessel back
With gestures sad and dumb—
Fair Ruth has plunged into the sea,
“My love, my love, I come!”
. . . . .
All in a moment shone the sun,
Blue gleamed the sky and sea,
The brave old ship upon the waves
Was dancing merrily.
And merrily to sound of bells
To her old port full soon
The In Memoriam that went forth
Returned the Honeymoon.
There o’er their grog sea-captains still
Her wondrous story tell,
And how her Captain backed his yards
A biscuit-throw from Hell.
poem by Victor James Daley
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Where The Land Meets The Ocean
The great white waves of the Pacific how loudly they do roar
And crash against the volcanic rocks that guard the ocean shore
The silver gulls above the beach are calling as they fly
And the terns dive in shallow waters for small sea things from the sky,
The feeling is so refreshing on your skin saltwater spray
'Tis nice to be by the ocean on a breezy Autumn day
In a place far off of the highway and far from the noisy street
A place where Nature reign Supreme where the land and ocean meet
The huge surf waves are rolling foamy and white as snow
At the awesome power of Nature my wonder only grow
Though not a seafaring person from land I love to watch the big waves roll
It has been a watery grave for many an ocean out of control
Where the land meets the ocean on a March evening in the Fall
A memory for to cherish and in the future to recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cleveland Rocks
(ian hunter)
Three! four!
Three! four!
Three! four!
(bunch of ah-ah-ahs here)
All this energy calling me
Back where it comes from
Its such a crude attitude
Its back where it belongs
All the little kids growing up on the skids are goin
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Jumpin (jean) gene genies, moody james deanies goin
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Mama knows but she dont care
Shes got her worries too
Seven kids and a phony affair
And the rent is due
All the little chicks with the crimson lips go
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Shes livinin sin with a safety pin
Shes goin cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
I got some records from world war two
Ill play em just like me grand dad do
He was a rocker and I am too
Oh cleveland rocks, yeah cleveland rocks
So find a place
Grab a space
And yell and scream for more
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
(bunch of ah-ah-ahs here)
Three! four!
Three! four!
Three! four!
Ohio
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ports of the Open Sea
Down here where the ships loom large in
The gloom when the sea-storms veer,
Down here on the south-west margin
Of the western hemisphere,
Where the might of a world-wide ocean
Round the youngest land rolls free—
Storm-bound from the world’s commotion,
Lie the Ports of the Open Sea.
By the bluff where the grey sand reaches
To the kerb of the spray-swept street,
By the sweep of the black sand beaches
From the main-road travellers’ feet,
By the heights like a work Titanic,
By a bluff lined coast volcanic
Lie the Ports of the wild South-east.
By the steeps of the snow-capped range,
By the scarped and terraced hills—
Far away from the swift life-changes,
From the wear of the strife that kills—
Where the land in the Spring seems younger
Than a land of the Earth might be—
Oh! the hearts of the rovers hunger
For the Ports of the Open Sea.
But the captains watch and hearken
For a sign of the South Sea wrath—
Let the face of the South-east darken,
And they turn to the ocean path.
Ay, the sea-boats dare not linger,
Whatever the cargo be;
When the South-east lifts a finger
By the Ports of the Open Sea.
South by the bleak Bluff faring,
North where the Three Kings wait,
South-east the tempest daring—
Flight through the storm-tossed strait;
Yonder a white-winged roamer
Struck where the rollers roar—
Where the great green froth-flaked comber
Breaks down on a black-ribbed shore.
For the South-east lands are dread lands
To the sailor in the shrouds,
Where the low clouds loom like headlands,
And the black bluffs blur like clouds.
When the breakers rage to windward
And the lights are masked a-lee,
And the sunken rocks run inward
To a Port of the Open Sea.
But oh! for the South-east weather—
The sweep of the three-days’ gale—
When, far through the flax and heather,
The spindrift drives like hail.
Glory to man’s creations
That drive where the gale grows gruff,
When the homes of the sea-coast stations
Flash white from the dark’ning bluff!
When the swell of the South-east rouses
The wrath of the Maori sprite,
And the brown folk flee their houses
And crouch in the flax by night,
And wait as they long have waited—
In fear as the brown folk be—
The wave of destruction fated
For the Ports of the Open Sea.
Grey cloud to the mountain bases,
Wild boughs that rush and sweep;
On the rounded hills the tussocks
Like flocks of flying sheep;
A lonely storm-bird soaring
O’er tussock, fern and tree;
And the boulder beaches roaring
The Hymn of the Open Sea.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sea
The sea calls for all man
Though it, many try to deny
From the calling of the wind
To the seas salty cry.
From the rushing of the waves
That's pounding against the rocks,
To a boys childhood dream
Or to that sailor, somewhere lost.
The seagulls they are crying
At the tall ships as they sail
The albatross she is flying,
While awakening is the gale.
The sea calls for all man
Though many refuse to hear
But alas, I think I’ll answer her
For I know that she is near.
I long for the seaman's life
To roam the world upon the ship
To sail by the sun and the stars,
Living, with the birds and fish.
Sleeping beneath the open sky
To live a life, that I know is free
So once again I think I will cry
For the sea, she calls for me.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A bewildering assortment of (mostly microscopic) life-forms has been found thriving in what were once thought to be uninhabitable regions of our planet. These hardy creatures have turned up in deep, hot underground rocks, around scalding volcanic vents at the bottom of the ocean, in the desiccated, super-cold Dry Valleys of Antarctica, in places of high acid, alkaline, and salt content, and below many meters of polar ice. ... Some deep-dwelling, heat-loving microbes, genetic studies suggest, are among the oldest species known, hinting that not only can life thrive indefinitely in what appear to us totally alien environments, it may actually originate in such places.
quote by David Darling
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It's extremely difficult to get these jobs because you can't get a job on a ship unless you have seaman's paper's, and you can't get seaman's papers unless you have a job on a ship. There had to be a way to break through the circle, and he was the one who arranged it for me.
quote by Paul Auster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yellow Warblers
The first faint dawn was flushing up the skies
When, dreamland still bewildering mine eyes,
I looked out to the oak that, winter-long,
-- a winter wild with war and woe and wrong --
Beyond my casement had been void of song.
And lo! with golden buds the twigs were set,
Live buds that warbled like a rivulet
Beneath a veil of willows. Then I knew
Those tiny voices, clear as drops of dew,
Those flying daffodils that fleck the blue,
Those sparkling visitants from myrtle isles,
Wee pilgrims of the sun, that measure miles
Innumerable over land and sea
With wings of shining inches. Flakes of glee,
They filled that dark old oak with jubilee,
Foretelling in delicious roundelays
Their dainty courtships on the dipping sprays,
How they should fashion nests, mate helping mate,
Of milkweed flax and fern-down delicate
To keep sky-tinted eggs inviolate.
Listening to those blithe notes, I slipped once more
From lyric dawn through dreamland's open door,
And there was God, Eternal Life that sings,
Eternal joy, brooding all mortal things,
A nest of stars, beneath untroubled wings.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Are The Lionheart
Destiny took me in her arms and told me:
"You're a little lost on the fall.
You fall for all the men
You shouldn't fall for all at all."
Ooh, I know she knows, but still I go on,
Well, I'm a fool.
Climbing up the ladders
To slide down the adders
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks...
Joan of Arc walks into my mirror,
A burning sword.
I'd like to cry.
I look into her eyes.
I see she's seen the long days and night.
"Ooh," she says,
"The games are still the same, I see,
But they've changed the names now.
Are all Lionhearts put in parks, apart?"
Lionhearts in the asylums,
Lionhearts tossed at sea,
Lionhearts who've lived their lives, like Arthur.
Lionhearts in cathedrals,
Lionhearts at mournings,
Lionhearts in every seed
But they're sown
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks...
Somebody I couldn't see
Tied me up and put me away,
Here on the rocks,
Here on the rocks,
Here on the rocks...
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wreck of the Hesperus
It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wint'ry sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.
Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds
That ope in the month of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,
And watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West, now South.
Then up and spake an old Sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,
"I pray thee put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.
"Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And tonight no moon we see!"
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the North-east;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.
Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.
"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."
He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.
"O father! I hear the church-bells ring,
O say what may it be?"
"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"
And he steered for the open sea.
"O father! I hear the sound of guns,
O say what may it be?"
"Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!"
"O father! I see a gleaming light,
O say what may it be?"
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.
Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.
Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed
That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ who stilled the wave
On the Lake of Galilee.
And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Towards the reef of Norman's Woe.
And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf,
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.
The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.
She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her sides
Like the horns of an angry bull.
Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank,
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair
Lashed close to a drifting mast.
The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,
On the billows fall and rise.
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like this
On the reef of Norman's Woe!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Monster & Captain Kreel
We were out in the North Atlantic
When the storm began to blow,
We reefed in the tops and gallants so
We wouldn't end down below,
The ship was tossed in a fury,
The mate was strapped to the wheel,
There wasn't a dry man left aboard,
Not even Captain Kreel.
The Captain, he was a bully,
He would flog 'til his arm was sore,
He drove the men at their stations 'til
They couldn't have taken more,
He kept a rope at the yardarm,
A warning to every man,
His word was not to be questioned if
A tar didn't want to hang!
Each wave was a liquid mountain
That crashed on the after deck,
The wind was a screaming banshee that
Would threaten, despair and wreck,
When out from below there came a scream,
A woman, so fair of face,
But the Captain swore an ugly oath
That the ship was in disgrace!
The wife of an able seaman,
He'd smuggled the girl aboard,
He'd thought he could keep her hidden there
Until they went ashore,
But the men with their superstitions
Then blamed her for the storm,
They seized her, dragged to the gunnels
And would hurry her overboard!
The Captain barked out an order,
The jack tars staggered back,
They wouldn't defy their Captain if
The ship was under attack!
The mate then seized the woman
And bared her at the breast,
Turned her to face the heaving sea
As she stood there, half undressed.
Bare breasted, like the figurehead
They carried on the prow,
A woman was known to calm the seas
If she shamed its gods somehow,
The wind died down in the stays and yards
And the sea died down as well,
But she little knew as she covered up
She approached the gates of hell!
The seaman was court-martialled,
Up there, on the quarter deck,
Where the Captain gave no quarter,
It was keel haul, or his neck!
They tied the rope around his chest
And flung him overboard,
We heaved on the rope, and prayed he'd hold
His breath 'til he came aboard.
We dragged him under the water,
And felt him under the keel,
The rope was a little bit lighter
Than the brow of Captain Kreel,
For he was a livid monster
Who just wanted the seaman dead,
His plans for the wife were plain to see
As he sent her to his bed!
The seaman's body surfaced,
It wasn't going well,
We hauled him over the side of the ship
'Til we caught a glimpse of hell,
The rope was knotted about his chest
And twisted around his neck,
There was nothing at all below the waist,
As his entrails sprayed the deck!
Even the Captain blanched at this
But he motioned us away,
'Toss the remains all overboard
Then swab the decks - Belay! '
We wondered how Jones was cut in half,
It couldn't have been the keel,
But kept our mutterings to ourselves,
For fear of the monster, Kreel.
Out on the starboard side we saw
A giant head appear,
Just as the body hit the waves
It reared, and sniffed the air,
Then pounced on the human morsel,
Picked it up in its savage jaw,
As we shrank on back at its evil eye
It gave out a primitive roar.
There wasn't a moment from then on
We weren't all chilled inside,
The monster followed and circled us
As we rode the heaving tide,
It must have been eighty feet or more,
A great, carnivorous beast,
The serpent had tasted human flesh
And we were a human feast!
The wind had dropped, the sails were limp,
We couldn't sail for home,
We were caught in the theme of a nightmare dream
Where the beasts of the world could roam,
The Captain kept to his cabin then,
We could hear the woman plead,
With a monster within, a monster without
We were caught in a monstrous creed.
'It's all the fault of that woman there! '
I knew what the ratings thought,
'We need to be throwing her overboard
To escape the luck she brought! '
The mate came down and roused them out,
'There'll be no talk of this,
We have to get under sail tonight
When the wind begins to rise.'
The Captain showed on the quarter-deck
Just after the seventh bell,
The sun was down in the west, the moon
Was riding high, as well.
We raised the sails as the shadows loomed,
Unfurled topgallant stays,
I was watching the Captain against the moon
His back to the after rail.
The serpent's head loomed large above
The figure of Captain Kreel,
The hairs rose up on the back of my neck
As I watched the shadows steal.
It opened up with its mighty jaw
Clamped down on the Captain's head,
Lifted him clear of the quarter deck
As he screamed - 'Oh God! I'm dead! '
We never saw Captain Kreel again,
But nobody seemed to care,
We sailed for the Falkland Islands then,
And we left the woman there,
I heard she married again, sometime,
To a sailor known as Kip,
And dreams of her home in Pompey, but -
They won't let her onto a ship!
24 December 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am
I've risen from the burning rocks
At birth when earth was forming,
And traveled icy streams to lochs
When spring the snow was warming.
And high above in mist and cloud
I've felt the cool winds blowing.
Saw lightning flash, heard thunder loud,
The land, the heavens sowing.
Far from the light by rock and sand,
By clear streams darkly flowing
Beneath the surface of the land,
To caverns deep there going.
And to the great and briny sea,
There countless times returning;
But restless, to the clouds I flee,
Take flight, while sun is burning.
By coral bright and river wide,
By mountain tarn and fording,
I've felt the ebb and flow of tide,
My kin the sea there hoarding.
Eternal life, the secret found,
I live though life is dying.
When mortals weep, a mournful sound,
I am the tears they're crying.
I wear the rock, I shape the land,
My waves, on headlands falling;
As rain I beat upon the sand,
As winter winds are squalling.
From tropic sea to frozen lake,
In each and every quarter
I can a transformation make,
I am - a dropp of water.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Story of water molecules
story of water molecule!
I was ocean and I was in ocean,
When my own waves brought
me to surface, I was happy I got exposed..
And I was exposed to the fresh
air and fresh rays of broad
sunlight.
I stared gaining energy... each
molecule vibrated with and I too,
I was lifted up and up,
With friends and family together
raising in space..
We are cloud and I am cloud away my ocean!
Alas! , air stopped lifting us and
started swinging here and there
and billions and billions of us
were there enjoying together
our swing, jolting and moving
here and there, But the cool air drew our energy..
We came together as we become
poorer and poorer..
We formed a group and dropp and
started
falling together! Some fell on hot rocks and hot
land, quickly went up..
But some fell on grass and plants
got absorbed and trapped there,
some fell on land joined hands
and became steam, We called our
trapped friends to
join us, but they were settled
there and enjoying happiness
and sorrow, making their own
life, some were in trees and
plants, some were in men and
beasts, enjoying their life there.. We streams joined and became
rivers and rolling and falling in
eddies and vortoices,
we enjoyed rocks and falls... And
reached
ocean completing a cycle.. But still most of our friends Were
back and there
still
enjoying their trapped life, some
are in organismsms, some in
lakes and ponds, some as mountain
ice! Oh we are molecule yet Not
differentiated in ocean! We are
neither happy nor feeling pain, Some us dived deep and felt safe
felt escaped the cycle... Some loved and felt bad of our
friends trapped, wanted to go to
call them back, remained on the
surface to go and warn them we
were oceans,
They were, sages, seers and prophets.. They knew they are free, yet
their love, and decide to be part
of eternal play..! We can now say,
we are that, I am that, this and that, but who is there to
listen we are all
ocean we are ocean! Or we are raising, or we are
in clouds or we in lakes and
ponds. Trapped or free, having a
duty towards us, towards others
and the Ocean! I am that, think about you and
feel yourself.... 'I am that '
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Truth Everlasting
ocean waves beating up against the beach
the cool water against my feet
faces in the rocks looking up to the sky
the ocean waves reaching forever high.
the seagulls flying in to land on the sand
as i reached over with my hand.
gently touching his soft white back
my mind racing faster-never letting up the slack
the reflections of times gone by
when life was young and not full of lies.
the only thing that ever seemed the same
was some faces and some names.
faces and names of a past gone by
as i looked up towards the sky.
trying to figure why the rock faces looked up
and what they could possibly see
as it all seemed very naked to me
when a thought came into my mind
as the ocean reflected off the sky.
the faces were looking up to see
god looking down unhappily.
of him seeing all of his creations
being all torn down.
of human life laying on the ground.
unhappiness all around and not one voice to be found
to tell the world of its mistakes and the lies we live are all fakes.
and now i see what is to be-his truth everlasting.
poem by Louis Rams
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