Adamastor
Nearing the Cape of storms
ships sail and sailors pray
to their gods to prevail
when suddenly out of the blue
storm clouds gather
and lightning bolts flash down
while unseen and like a phantom
the giant of the ages
barbaric and savage
the Titan Adamastor
watches ever morose,
resentful and unforgiving
drawing the sea in his fist
and throwing a great
unpredicted crashing wave,
causing sudden storms
and gale force winds,
calling thunder to hit down
like Thor’s hammer
and in his workshop brewing storms
and out of the granite rocks at times
where his body lies entombed
his spirit rises angry.
Numerous ships are wrecked
along the shore,
where giant elder god Adamastor
rages ashore
among the sandstone cliffs
and in anger forever more
sends storms, great winds
and throwing thick fog
to draw ships on ridges and sharp rocks.
[References: Rounding the Cape by Roy Campbell and Canto V Vasco da Gama (Os Lusiadas) by Luis de Camões.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Table Bay
The sun sets over table bay
and that rough sea lies calm
and a moon rises full,
above the waves
and the thundering breakers
roar like they did
many years before
Odysseus sailed from the island of Ithaca
and went to Troy to war
where he accompanied the heroes
Neoptolemus and Philoctetes and the
armour and shield of great Achilles,
was his to take
and for years he dwelt
on stormy seas and in far away lands.
If per chance his ship would stray
and reach the cape of storms
in another age and time
and his eyes could see
the beauty of that lovely shore,
no other place would
his ship sail to
When Bartolomeu Dias set his ships sails
and left king John ashore,
he was prepared to sail
to the ends of the earth
and no horrendous sea creature
could keep his ships in check.
I wonder what he thought
when the fog faded away
and table mount sprang into view
and table bay lay stretched out
up to its shore
and when he set his cross
did he know that he was marking
a great place
and when he marked his charts
did he wish to come back
to that stormy Cape?
When King John gave the name
Cabo da Bõa Esperança,
did he know that he was naming a place
from where a nation would sprout
and that it would become a city of hope?
[Reference: =>”Cabo da Bõa Esperança=>Cape of Good Hope”]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ceyx and Alcione ll
Alcyone, his daughter, had grown up in her father's house, and watching far to sea had seen the damage wrought by the winds when in bad temper-not that she failed to notice them when calm-she often observed sailboats gliding under the influence of the gentler kinds of winds outside the rocky ring that surrounded the island; but the storms were more spectacular and more devastating than their lamb-like counterparts. She had seen pretty ships spun willy-nilly onto the sharp rocks and smashed to bits, and since life-preservers had not yet been invented, there were only floating timbers for the sailors to grasp, and the chance of seizing one of these was dim. Many a good hand gasped out his life in the over-topping surf, and pulled below, visited the star-strewn sea bottom once and forever, since there was no Red-Cross in those days to teach people to swim. People did not yet realize that by stretching themselves along the sea-surface, inflating their lungs and flailing their arms and legs sequentially, they could keep afloat and reach the distant beach. Nobody bothered to learn-though most people lived on islands, and why they didn't is a mystery. Evidentally, between storms the weather was so good it wasn't necessary, and during the storms unavailing, so high were the waves and so sharp the rocks. Only a merman (or mer-maiden) could navigate them, and no-one land-born was that.
So, she worried...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Ghosts Of Cape Horn
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Some who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
See them all in sad repair
Demons dance everywhere
Southern gales, tattered sails
And none to tell the tales
Come all of you rustic old sea dogs
Who follow the great southern cross
You were rounding the horn
In the eye of a storm
When ya lost er one day
And you read all yer letters
From oceans away
Then you took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Come all you old sea dogs from devon
Southampton, penzance, and kinsale
You were caught by the chance
Of a sailors last dance
It was not meant to be
And ya read all yer letters
Cried anchor aweigh
Then ya took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impenetrable
The bleak black basalt cliffs which form.
A barrier to Atlantic storms
Which sweep in from the open sea.
Are not a place I'd choose to be
When winter storms are at their height
and batter them without respite.
The basalt rocks are obdurate
They stubbornly accept their fate
Although the storms may rage and roar
The cliffs have seen it all before.
Wind driven waves have small effect.
On basalt cliffs which still protect.
Old Ireland from the angry sea.
they do their duty faithfully.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Song of the Crew of Diaz
On the Discovery of the Cape of Good Hope,
or Cape of Storms
Where no sound was ever heard
But the ocean's hollow roar,
As it breaks, in foamy mountains,
Along the rugged shore:
Where ev'ry wind of heaven
That has terror on its wings,
Howls to the startled echo
That through each cavern rings:
Upon that world of waters,
Where nought has ever pass'd
But the storm-bird's glittering pinions,
As it whirls amidst the blast—
Where no sail has ever wandered
Beneath that troubled sky,
Frowns the stately Cape of Storms
O'er the drear immensity!
Above whose hoary summit,
Where captive thunders sleep,
Three huge black clouds for ever
Their dreadful station keep.
We have gazed on what no other
Has ever gazed upon—
We have braved the angry spirits,
And our victory is won.
We have conquered all the dangers
Of a yet unfathom'd sea;
And we bring the prize of glory.
Our country, Spain, to thee!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Enduring The Storms of Life
A petal falls from a
flower
quietly to the ground
a tree limb dries up
breaks off, falls away
enduring the storms
of life..
Ships sail off to sea
enduring many storms
along the way fights
to maintain
returning to port,
enduring the storms
of life...
poem by Heather Burns
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Life’s Storms!
Dark clouds have come to hide the Lady Moon!
It seems a storm could brew up rather soon;
Tall waves hit rocks and dash upon the shore;
There could be rain and fierce winds all the more.
The beach looks abandoned because ’tis night;
There are no ships or boats on sea in sight;
A Tsunami could be heading this time;
Oh, what a nasty change, when fine was clime!
Imagine sailors caught amidst a storm;
They’ll weep and pray to God to bring back calm;
Despair and gloom will fill the ship-crew’s heart,
Regretting why a journey they did start.
Life’s storms too steal all laughter and all smile;
An anguished heart will plead to God meanwhile;
For God within his heart, man searches deep;
To spare his life, the mightiest will weep!
Such memory can fill an entire book;
The specter haunts the mind much like a spook;
Few brave of hearts become a good singer;
For years the trauma hurts and could linger!
poem by John Celes
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Van der Decken
Sometimes just before a breaking storm
standing at the old wooden tiller of your ship
far away from the Cape shore
you sail forever more,
smitten to ride the waves eternally
even with a windless pail stormy sky
driving your ancient ship across the sea
with it creaking, with sails trembling
with the woodwork ages long needing repair
right out of the forming fog
you appear with a fist clenched above your head
still cursing the creator God
as a token to all men,
even witnessed by a king,
by naval ships at war
you Van der Decken, sail on forever more.
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Fisher Lass
I stood beside the Summer sea
And watched far out my Fisher Lass
Row swiftly in her boat to me,
And the sea shone like a glass.
She waved her strong, brown hand to me,
The boat flew swiftly in from sea,
The osprey laughed in wild, wild glee
To see her row so swift to me.
Laugh, laugh, sea-birds and glad, glad sea,
My soul laughs too in mad, mad glee;
I catch her in my waiting arms
And lose my fears of wrecks and storms;
I brush the sea-damp locks aside
And kiss the mouth she tries to hide.
I stand beside a Winter sea,
A storm-wrecked boat lies on the shore;
The sea moans sad an elegy,
For my lass rows in no more.
No more across the Summer sea
My Fisher Lass rows into me;
I wait each day upon the shore -
They say that she will come no more.
Moan, moan aloud, thou Winter sea,
My Fisher Lass is lost to me!
The ships ride in, the ships ride out,
I hear their sailors' mournful shout.
Some day, I know, across the sea
My Fisher Lass will row to me.
poem by James Edwin Campbell
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The Storms Have Passed
the days are getting cloudy for me,
storm clouds over my head,
so dark, i can barely see,
the storms have passed by me.
the swetness of life, has passed me by,
of my life, the storms have went,
and i look forward to when i die,
the storms have passed me by.
of the Lord, i'll meet and see,
to be with Him, ever more,
and there, i'll never need to plea
the storms have passed by me.
The Fortitude Of The North
_Under the Disaster of the Second Manassas_
They take no shame for dark defeat
While prizing yet each victory won,
Who fight for the Right through all retreat,
Nor pause until their work is done.
The Cape-of-Storms is proof to every throe;
Vainly against that foreland beat
Wild winds aloft and wilder waves below:
The black cliffs gleam through rents in sleet
When the livid Antarctic storm-clouds glow.
poem by Herman Melville
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I Wonder What It Feels Like to be Drowned?
Look at my knees,
That island rising from the steamy seas!
The candles a tall lightship; my two hands
Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,
With mighty cliffs all round;
They’re full of wine and riches from far lands….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
I can make caves,
By lifting up the island and huge waves
And storms, and then with head and ears well under
Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder,
A bull-of-Bashan sound.
The seas run high and the boats split asunder….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
The thin soap slips
And slithers like a shark under the ships.
My toes are on the soap-dish—that’s the effect
Of my huge storms; an iron steamer’s wrecked.
The soap slides round and round;
He’s biting the old sailors, I expect….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
poem by Robert Graves
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Uproar and after math for M'lady Catrina
The thunder growls and threatens war.
Storm clouds parade in massed array
and fierce blue bolts of lightning soar
To try and drive the clouds away.
Just for a moment all is still
The clouds appear prepared to fight.
The lightning bolts strike where they will
and pierce the clouds with spears of light.
The clouds disgorge much needed rain
upon the thirsty earth below
The fields will soon be green again
and once again the streams will flow.
The storm has passed it has moved on.
The air is feeling cool and clean.
But for damage which it has done.
You would not know the storm had been.
Though summer storms strike suddenly
it’s very seldom that they last
They pass over just as quickly
and are forgotten very fast.
Flash floods and overflowing drains
will be remedied speedily.
The storm provided much needed rains
the earth accepted greedily.
We should be grateful not complain
But being human we will do
We lose much less than what we gain.
The fruitful earth will bloom anew.
02/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Light House Stands Tall In An Island
to storms
that we can do nothing about
the light house
stands proud
tall and unchallenged
on a beacon of
light
it tells the world
the storms have not
bent my light
the mists are not enough
to conceal it
when i save lives
and ships
no one owes
to thank
me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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By The Seaside : The Lighthouse
The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
And on its outer point, some miles away,
The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.
Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
In the white lip and tremor of the face.
And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
Through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light
With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!
Not one alone; from each projecting cape
And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.
Like the great giant Christopher it stands
Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
The night-o'ertaken mariner to save.
And the great ships sail outward and return,
Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,
They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.
They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils,
Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.
The mariner remembers when a child,
On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;
And when, returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.
Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!
It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp
The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.
The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.
The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
Of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.
A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,
It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
But hails the mariner with words of love.
'Sail on!' it says, 'sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,
Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Black Ships Were Low Laden
The black ships were low laden
And to portugal home bound
They rose with that deep ocean swell
Slowed by the riches they had found.
Those black ships were a portent
Of a far more deadly trade
Of human traffic taken
And transported as mere slaves.
Deep within those black ships' hulls
And flaming on their sails
A thousand souls were crying
Like a chorus in those gales.
The winds were blowing backward
Each venomous black boat
The weight inside each one of them
Fought against them being afloat.
God he blew storms of madness
And sought to turn them back
The sea churned like a mystery
With the sky a vicious black.
The captain stood amongst them
Standing firm upon his deck
He made a pact with Lucifer
With the devil and with death.
The cargo was a sacrifice
The holds were emptied till
The ships could sail full forward
And then the sea did still.
So fill your ships with slavery
But of our pact you must not tell
My mission on this earthly place
Is to create as many hells
As i can find by seeking
The weakness in men's souls
And the emptying of principles
Lies in man's keen quest for gold.
poem by David Keig
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Beacon Fires Upon The Shore
Silent shadow ships
still sail saline seas
spent storm reborn
unobserved
phantom minstrels
unrecorded
uncharted spectres
ink fading entries
in official antique ledger.
Oh resurgent resurrection joy
forthwith lamp-lit weather
watching fleet flying fully rigged
schooner clipper windjammer
cut saline tacking windward course
through grinding salt-spitting teeth
of fabled force-ten gale or savage storm
while attempting to round Cape Horn
voyages echo through maritime history.
Sailing silent on upon
a roaring time forgotten
rough weathered livelihood
soul-sucking feared maelstorm
romantic raging to hot doldrum
breeze wind wave ebb ocean
as forthcoming future ships
on maiden voyage will sail on
upon all event variant seas.
From calm through tempest gales
horizonless beautified seas
retain unique unfathomed mysteries
as spatial spectral ships journey on
into illimitable port passing history.
From wrecks to profit salvage
from sinking to lay-ups or cut-ups
voyages turn into new history
into spectrum maritime mystery.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Weather Hurricane Storms With Good Friends
dark summer storm clouds encase dark horizons
dark summer storm clouds close lost horizons
season of summer storms sweeps in across seas
rains come storms come closing tourist beaches
cold rain hurricane storms threaten new floods
batten down windows close shut tight exit doors
good time to weather storms with life true friends
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Storms In Africa: Part I (LP Version)
Roma Ryan
Though I walk through
warm sands in Africa
winds will grow soon
to storms in Africa.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
will journey this way?
Dark skies fall on
black earth and ivory.
Far from your sun
clouds now close over me
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
will journey this way?
Storms have come!
rains wash the earth away
Dark skies fall down
into another day.
Rains have now come
from storms in Africa
Time will go on
through Storms in Africa
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Blue to Blue You Choose
There are clouds above your storms...
Afraid to let Sun through.
Also empty wishes,
Have you feeling shades of blue.
On the dew...
At dawn.
There are clouds above your storms,
Only no one but you.
And...
That's the way it seems.
That's the way your dreams are too!
From blue to blue,
You choose!
Open up your windows.
Feel the breeze.
Let your heart breathe free.
There are clouds above your storms...
Afraid to let Sun through.
Also empty wishes,
Have you feeling shades of blue.
On the dew...
At dawn.
Clouds above your storms.
And they are there watching you.
Wanting to drift,
Away.
But you wish them to stay..
From blue to blue,
You choose.
The way your dreams are too!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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