Raven's Hoarse Cry on an Abandon Lighthouse!
The impatient fisherman!
Have you heard the sky's speaking to you
Let her know that how many stars in the sky?
And the deep sea groans in the awful night
Gives you a big puzzle!
Take a rough inventory of the fish in the sea?
My old boy I know that your mild head spins
And no proper answers.
Don't sail further for Mermaid hunt
And you're belong to the burning land
Come back and help her to mend the fishnet
As she too struggles with feelings?
*'And a fair wind changes-
Yoi! Sora! -
Even the largest ship returns to port.
(The sound of waves-Yukio Mishima)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Mermaid On A Dolphin's Back
It was midnight and our ship was in mid-sea,
All were asleep, none there on deck except me.
The sound of the sea water, blowing wind I heard,
I was thinking then, when to go homeward!
Suddenly a musical note passed into in my ear,
Dulcet I might call it, but that put me in fear.
In the semi darkness, I noticed a very queer scene,
A mermaid with half fish body sitting on a dolphin!
A gossamer robe was on her glossy fair skin,
Glyptic band on her golden hair was vividly seen.
They rose up and down and almost touched a rack,
She was the beautiful mermaid, on the dolphin's back!
They were whispering in a very low sound,
I could hear as, there was no roaring waves around!
Her long cloudy locks were swaying in cool air,
Dumb stuck I stood as there was no crew to share!
The mermaid with her fish like bright, tinkle fin,
Embraced earnestly the neck of the cute dolphin!
The moon was walking, with his shiny silver shoon,
The flakes of the clouds wrapped the moving moon.
The sky then got covered with a gauzy dark shroud!
They dived into the sea, remained, the sea kissing cloud!
By Nilakshi Das
poem by Nilakshi Das
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The Fisherman
At night
A man sat there drenched in the dull candle light
He sat there rod in hand
He wished that he might
Be able to catch a fish this night
He liked the pull the thrill the fight
How the fish thrashes on sensing death in sight
On this island so small there is no need for pity
A fisherman knows that killing is not pretty
But to keep money in the pocket
And a belly full of fish
A fisherman must cast out his line
So that someone can have there next dish
It was easy for him
The fisherman I mean
He always enjoyed this scene
Sitting at the edge of the dock
With his bucket, candle, rod, and radio clock
All he has to do is reel in from time to time
Just to check on his bait
And some people are impatient
But he liked the wait
The sea breeze on his face
The sound of crashing waves all over the place
His quiet canopy has fallen around him
The white noise of the ocean could always be broken on a whim
I think he heard us
Because he just shuddered as you caused all the fuss
“You! You think I am lonely, I thank you for your concern”
Turning and smiling his beard looking like a fern
He gnarls his teeth as if he just ate a leaf
“I am happy in this quiet, you can join me if you wish. Just keep quiet”!
“Or you’ll scare away all of my fish”
Written: November 30,2010
poem by Ryan Collins
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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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God Asked Noah
Before the world was drenched in shame
Ere Satan reigned in man
The Father Son and Holy Flame
Wrote down salvation’s plan
Then God told man to build a boat
In faith to walk inside
But only eight were kept afloat
All unbelievers died
“I thank You Lord for saving me
For I was drowning too
From certain death You’ve set me free
And gave me life anew
Allow me in Your boat to sail
I’ve heard my Saviour’s call
In Christ I know I’ll never fail
Nor from Your grace will fall
I long to be a lifeboat Lord
Returning to the sea
Calling Your fish to climb on board
As Jesus did for me
With Christ I’ll sail to far off shores
In truth from port to port
We’ll free the catch from Satan’s claws
We’ll fish till all are caught
The wind is right the course is set
My Lord is at the helm
Let’s hoist the sail cast wide the net
Let’s fish throughout Your realm
Let’s cast our nets in every land
Let’s sail in one accord
Let’s teach the fish to understand
How safe is life on board.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Reflections-5
1 Ice Berg
Tip of the iceberg
Sail not.Far-flung albedoes
Reflect hiding hunt
2 Shark
He scents ere we do
Marine mom's villain-son's play
Gory waves caution
3 seals
Happy colony
Eating squids, fish.yet alarm
Scared waves..sharks, whales, man
4 Mermaid
Yonder days' wedlock
Coupled sea-man.Proved myth
Cyclone-hit Chennai
poem by Indira Renganathan
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On Catching the Summer Breeze
A deep blue sky with light wisps of clouds,
A sail raised high up on the mast,
The rush of water along port side,
Skimming across the lake in your sailboat.
A sail raised high to catch the wind,
The breeze dies down, then becalmed.
Rustling of the sail begins,
The wind returns again.
Learn to duck, and not rock the boat.
Be careful, sometimes you fall in.
Listen and learn from those who know
For they fell in too, so long ago.
Over, and over, and over again,
Until you have mastered the art of the sail.
poem by Joe Wocoski
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Barcarolle
The stars are dimly seen among the shadows of the bay,
And lights that win are seen in strife with lights that die away.
The wave is very still -- the rudder loosens in our hand,
The zephyr will not fill our sail and waft us to the land;
O precious is the pause between the winds that come and go,
And sweet the silence of the shores between the ebb and flow.
No sound but sound of rest is on the bosom of the deep,
Soft as the breathing of a breast serenly hushed with sleep:
Lay by the ear; there is a voice at heart to sing or sigh --
O what shall be the choice of barcarolle or lullaby?
Say shall we sing of day or night, fair land or mighty ocean,
Of any rapturous delight or any dear emotion,
Of any joy that is on earth, or hope that is above--
The holy country of our birth, or any song of love?
Our heart in all our life is like the hand of one who steers
A bark upon an ocean rife with dangers and with fears;
The joys, the hopes, like waves or wings, bear up this life of ours --
Short as a song of all these things that make up all its hours.
Spread sail! For it is Hope today that like a wind new-risen
Doth waft us on a golden wing towards a new horizon,
That is the sun before our sight, the beacon for us burning,
That is the star in all our night of watching and of yearning.
Love is this thing that we pursue today, tonight, for ever,
We care not whither, know not who shall be at length the giver:
For Love, -- our life and all our years are cast upon the waves;
Our heart is as the hand that steers; -- but who is He that saves?
We ply with oars, we strive with every sail upon our mast --
We never tire, never fail -- and Love is seen at last:
A low and purple mirage like a coast where day is breaking --
Sink sail! for such a dream of Love is lost before the waking.
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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Ketapang Leafs
Ketapang leafs
dropp float in the air
Brought by West Winds
To pounce on the dying fish
flondered
Crushed by rolling waves of Bali Straits
While camar birds
Shivered with cold in they nest
Took shelter from the cold sea wind, dry and
Flying the dust
While fisherman
Choose living in their brittle shelter
Waiting for the wind calm down
Where roling waves not to rage
Hurricane, dying fishes
Washed ashore in the beach
Only own of carcass eaters bird
Fisherman could waiting only
Til the good season back again
While they only could do wishes
And life from kindness of usuer
Defend from the west wind
Dry, the rage of waves
When the Hurricane was subsided
fullmoon illuminates the earth and sea
the fish have a partywe should go to sea
to fish with a net
for paying our debt to usuer
but oil price flying up and much higher
we could not anything to do
bogor,17/09/05
poem by Prasetya Utama
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A Fisherman
The sunset hues
colour the sky red
at evening tide
predicting fair weather
for the day ahead.
No storm clouds
to follow me
as I set my sails
on my great fishing boat
for my journey out to sea
with sun and fair winds
to follow me.
A fisherman is my life
with the sail and sea my home.
Free to do what I do best
fish the bounty of the sea.
At dusk, I rest
and wait for the morning fair.
A fisherman is my life,
something I’ll always be
until the day comes along
to visit Davy Jones locker,
but until then I’ll roam free
wherever the fair wind takes me.
No landlover me
as the sea is my home
and where I always want to be,
watching whales and dolphins play
and the gulls for company.
17 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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Nostalgic wind takes me homebound
Facing strong wind and heavy rain today.
All the vessels in the harbor secured safely.
And the Tugs are in their weather-watch
in case of emergency.
Like a tigress the horrible wind comes
how soft when she is normal
chime like wind bells.
I heard a ship was calling from afar
she is heading to another port
humbly request a shelter in anchorage
until the bad weather get settled.
Though I am alert in the port
I feel like a ship in her pitching & rolling
in the deep sea.
And the the strong wind take me home.
Oh! my loved ones at shore
and I can see them waving happily.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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At no time are we ever in such complete possession of a journey, down to its last nook and cranny, as when we are busy with preparations for it.
quote by Yukio Mishima
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Best
o
The faithful helm commands the keel,
From port to port fair breezes blow;
But the ship must sail the convex sea,
Nor may she straighter go.
So, man to man; in fair accord,
On thought and will the winds may wait;
But the world will bend the passing word,
Though its shortest course be straight.
From soul to soul the shortest line
At best will bended be:
The ship that holds the straightest course
Still sails the convex sea.
o
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Green Eyed Melodie Mermaıd
There’s a green eyed mermaid
who lives deep in the sea,
she has a mermaid tail
all sparkly and bluish green.
At night with the light of moon,
her eyes turn more greenish blue.
But green mostly during the day,
her big eyes have specs of brown not grey,
She sits on the rocks to get a tan,
she uses her tail as a fan.
Her tail flaps, swish, swish, swish,
swimming below is tiny fish.
Then at night when all fishes asleep,
she goes to rocks again and has a peep.
She looks at moon and makes a wish,
she wishes a pirate would give her a kiss.
Then she see’s his ship come to shore,
she anxiously waits, wondering what’s in store.
Pirate lands, and spots green eyed mermaid’s eyes,
he becomes totally hypnotized.
Realizing he sealed his fate,
he kisses her and they sets a date.
A date is set to
A date is set to marry thee,
Yes, green eyed mermaid Melodie.
Then the both go to sea,
Melodie is now a human with legs,
Her pirate husband has one leg as peg.
Now they sail the seas,
Melodie is so happy.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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High School
A traveler's blurry vision clears up as the ship gone near the port.
Mist that once engulfed us now spit us out of his territory
Expedition has ended but journey to live never.
These crews were working together in the oceans for approximately 800 days
Plus 104 days of land tours.
They'd change captains 4 times yet pirates keep coming in.
They were unafraid and fight back.
Yet they do not have torpedoes nor cannons but words.
The seas got mad for the disturbance
Wind blew hard and brought a storm
Made huge waves smashing us unto the rocks of an endless shore
Our ship was there, almost destroyed
However these crews with the help of the captain
As we never expected stood up and initiate the ship's
Recovery
Now sailing proudly exclaiming gladly with every island passed through
Yet the points were all filled with X
Every location that should be colonized were colonized
We are heading back to the origin
Every lives of this Crew family should be lived separately
The expedition is over, but we'd nowhere to go
But away to live prosperously
Yet to complete a seafarers life was to go unto the sea
So to live our life completely, indeed for thee
We go another sail with a different rail
To learn how to seek treasure upon
The burning sun and the shores with infinite sand.
poem by Ellirie Aviles
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By means of microscopic observation and astronomical projection the lotus flower can become the foundation for an entire theory of the universe and an agent whereby we may perceive Truth.
quote by Yukio Mishima
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Demetrius and Antillia - The Final Demise of Atlantis
Demetrius and His Father, the Greek Fishermen were
gone fishing one hot Summer day,
when what to their eyes behold.
in a ship of solid gold
By the Trident of Neptune, A MERMAID!
Demetrius swam to her rescue
and escorted her back to his humble abode,
where He and his father were dining on the days catch.
Yet Antillia was a stubborn little mermaid.
Truth be told, she was a princess, and the Heir to the throne of Atlantis.
And she commandeered Demetrius Ship and set sail for home.
But Demetrius caught her just before she got away.
And was the ship captain.
'These Inventions of which you speak. SOrceries.'
'NO Demetrius, science.'
Yet that mattered not, under the full moon on the ocean sea, they fell in love.
She was a devious mermaid princess, and had a plan.
The Ship reached shore. The plan went off like clockwork.
Demetrius was taken prisoner and held in the dungeon.
Antillia ran to her father, King Kronas, Old Father Time.
And spoke of Demetrius to her father. YEt her father had become weak as a king and as a man.
Yet Demetrius was special. For he was foretold in the Writings of old.
Those Atlantean writings in the time before time of Atlantis.
And he survived, with his new friends.
The King and his noble court met.
One of his noblemen stood.
'Noblenem. Sire. Long before the founding of Atlantis it was written in the stars
that a greek fisherman would reach our shoures, and survive.
That prophecy is fulfilled. And that with this prophecy's fulfillment the final collapse of Atlantis woudl commence.
Our only hope to survie is to attack Greece and her allies and attack them soon.
Lest atlantis be destroyed.'
and all but one, the Priest of God called for war.
To no avail however.
Demetrius and his fellow slaves commandered the ship and returend to Greece, the land of peace,
His lady, Antillia, heiress to the Atlantean Throne, the would be Queen of Attlantis,
accompanied him, and gladly so.
Atlantis was destroyed in one day and one night.
Demetrius and ANtillia returned to Greece with the former atlantean slaves
Demetrius made her his queen. Not of an empire, yet of a lowly greek abode.
a small hut by the mediterranean.
They could not have been happier.
they had many children.
they were so happy.
poem by Psychobillyrogue 312
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Enceladus. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Second)
Under Mount Etna he lies,
It is slumber, it is not death;
For he struggles at times to arise,
And above him the lurid skies
Are hot with his fiery breath.
The crags are piled on his breast,
The earth is heaped on his head;
But the groans of his wild unrest,
Though smothered and half suppressed,
Are heard, and he is not dead.
And the nations far away
Are watching with eager eyes;
They talk together and say,
'To-morrow, perhaps to-day,
Euceladus will arise!
And the old gods, the austere
Oppressors in their strength,
Stand aghast and white with fear
At the ominous sounds they hear,
And tremble, and mutter, 'At length!'
Ah me! for the land that is sown
With the harvest of despair!
Where the burning cinders, blown
From the lips of the overthrown
Enceladus, fill the air.
Where ashes are heaped in drifts
Over vineyard and field and town,
Whenever he starts and lifts
His head through the blackened rifts
Of the crags that keep him down.
See, see! the red light shines!
'T is the glare of his awful eyes!
And the storm-wind shouts through the pines
Of Alps and of Apennines,
'Enceladus, arise!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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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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The Isles Of Sleep.
The opiate isles upon time's sea
In the dream-dark
Rise with their harbours silently
Before each day-abandoned bark,
And the worn mariner anchors there
Till thought, new-waked in the dewy air,
Sings like a lark.
The silent isles with their dream-shores
On the waves float,
Whereto the faint-eyed mariner oars
Within the dusk his eerie boat;
All care put by, like one who knows
No tide there turns and no wind blows,
Near or remote!
From day to day upon time's main
We sail on so,
Sure every night some port to gain
In the dream-dark where no winds blow;
Until we too this sea have cross'd
E'en like the galleons that were tost
Here long ago.
Some seem each day to sail so far,
They reach that shore
So very soon where all things are
As they will be for evermore;
Some for so many a night and day
Have to drift on their lonely way
Ere all is o'er.
But all sails touch the land at last:
The slowest come
As in a mist out of the past —
The last dream-isle fades on the foam,
The last stars rise, the last stars set,
And there is but the last day yet
'Tween them and home.
poem by Robert Crawford
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My Feelings With Animals And Birds
My feelings are heard by the birds and animals,
I converse with their own speaking customs;
My threshold is uncertain, they are ignorant,
Forces are at work, and the playing of the stars is mild.
Stars and certain planets cease to exist if I sing,
My cage is that of a slave, in spectacular arrangement;
My songs need biting as my lunch needs biting as well,
These are the stars I recollect from experience and trance.
My feelings are like that of the stars and birds,
I am human and free, conversations matter to the infirm
And weak in health, and my doors are always open to guests
Who enjoy my company and not just animals and birds.
poem by Naveed Akram
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