On A Sunny Sunday
On a Sunny Day, You can See Forever.
The u-boat that cast anchor on the silky beach of Albufeira
the crew was dressed in German world war two uniforms,
bathers thought they were actors in a movie.
The captain came ashore he wanted to call Lisbon, to his
embassy, only the number didn’t exist anymore. He wanted
to surrender, his crew hungry and tired.
A kind barman gave the captain a cold beer, he drank it
greedily and asked what year this was.2011.
“My god” he exclaimed we have landed in a wrong century.
He walked back to his u-boat, a neat man every bit a hero.
The submarine, rusty, looking as it had been at the bottom of
the sea for ages, hoisted anchor, sailed into the blue yonder.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Related quotes
The Walloping Window Blind
A capital ship for an ocean trip
Was the Walloping Window Blind.
No gale that blew dismayed her crew
Or troubled the captain's mind.
The man at the wheel was taught to feel
Contempt for the wildest blow.
And it often appeared when the weather had cleared
That he'd been in his bunk below.
The boatswain's mate was very sedate,
Yet fond of amusement too;
And he played hopscotch with the starboard watch
While the captain tickled the crew.
And the gunner we had was apparently mad
For he stood on the cannon's tail,
And fired salutes in the captain's boots
In the teeth of a booming gale.
The captain sat in a commodore's hat
And dined in a royal way
On toasted pigs and pickles and figs
And gummery bread each day.
But the rest of us ate from an odious plate
For the food that was given the crew
Was a number of tons of hot cross buns
Chopped up with sugar and glue.
We all felt ill as mariners will
On a diet that's cheap and rude,
And the poop deck shook when we dipped the cook
In a tub of his gluesome food.
Then nautical pride we laid aside,
And we cast the vessel ashore
On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles
And the Anagzanders roar.
Composed of sand was that favored land
And trimmed in cinnamon straws;
And pink and blue was the pleasing hue
Of the Tickletoeteasers claws.
We climbed to the edge of a sandy ledge
And soared with the whistling bee,
And we only stopped at four o'clock
For a pot of cinnamon tea.
From dawn to dark, on rubagub bark
We fed, till we all had grown
Uncommonly thin. Then a boat blew in
On a wind from the torriby zone.
She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care,
And we cheerily put to sea.
We plotted a course for the Land of Blue Horse,
Due west 'cross the Peppermint Sea.
poem by Charles Edward Carryl
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Let Her Go Down
Sometime in October
we sailed from England's shore
When we sailed into a raging storm
like I never ever seen before
And all of the crew they were brave men
but the captain he was braver
and he said
"Never mind the ship me boys
There's none of us here can save her"
Let her go down Swim for your lives
Swim for your children swim for your wives
Let her go down Let her go down
Lost in the open ocean
there was some of the crew and me
while the captain steered our wounded ship
to the bottom of an angry sea
And with his dying breath
we all heard him say
"It's just the fortune of sailor"
and he said
"Never mind the ship me boys
There's none of us here can save her"
chorus
He wondered if his shipmates
were ready to just pray and give in
so he called their names out one by one
but there was no one else around but him
He saw the ship go down the fading light
and he knew that they could have saved her
He said
"The captain lied when the captain cried
'There's none of us here can save her' "
chorus
Swim for your lives
Swim for your children swim for your wives
Let her go down Let her go down
Swim for your lives
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Nautical Ballad
A capital ship for an ocean trip,
Was the 'Walloping Window-blind';
No gale that blew dismayed her crew
Or troubled the captain's mind.
The man at the wheel was taught to feel
Contempt for the wildest blow,
And it often appeared, when the weather had cleared,
That he'd been in his bunk below.
'The boatswain's mate was very sedate,
Yet fond of amusement, too;
And he played hop-scotch with the starboard watch,
While the captain tickled the crew.
And the gunner we had was apparently mad,
For he sat on the after rail,
And fired salutes with the captain's boots,
In the teeth of the booming gale.
'The captain sat in a commodore's hat
And dined in a royal way
On toasted pigs and pickles and figs
And gummery bread each day.
But the cook was Dutch and behaved as such;
For the diet he gave the crew
Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns
Prepared with sugar and glue.
'All nautical pride we laid aside,
And we cast the vessel ashore
On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles,
And the Rumbletumbunders roar.
And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge
And shot at the whistling bee;
And the cinnamon-bats wore water-proof hats
As they danced in the sounding sea.
'On rubgub bark, from dawn to dark,
We fed, till we all had grown
Uncommonly shrunk,—when a Chinese junk
Came by from the torriby zone.
She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care,
And we cheerily put to sea;
And we left the crew of the junk to chew
The bark of the rubgub tree.'
poem by Charles Edward Carryl
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The Tearful Tale Of Captain Dan
A sinner was old Captain Dan;
His wives guv him no rest:
He had one wife to East Skiddaw
And one to Skiddaw West.
Now Ann Eliza was the name
Of her at East Skiddaw;
She was the most cantankerous
Female you ever saw.
I don’t know but one crosser-grained,
And of this Captain Dan
She was the wife at Skiddaw West—
She was Eliza Ann.
Well, this old skeesicks, Captain Dan,
He owned a ferryboat;
From East Skiddaw to Skiddaw West
That vessel used to float.
She was as trim a ferry-craft
As ever I did see,
And on each end a p’inted bow
And pilothouse had she.
She had two bows that way, so when
She went acrost the sound
She could, to oncet, run back ag’in
Without a-turnin’ round.
Now Captain Dan he sailed that boat
For nigh on twenty year
Acrost that sound and back ag’in,
Like I have stated here.
And never oncet in all them years
Had Ann Eliza guessed
That Dan he had another wife
So nigh as Skiddaw West.
Likewise, Eliza Ann was blind,
Howas she never saw
As Dan he had another wife
Acrost to East Skiddaw.
The way he fooled them female wives
Was by a simple plan
That come into the artful brain
Of that there Captain Dan.
With paint upon that ferry-craft,
In letters plain to see,
Upon the bow— to wit, both ends—
Her name he painted she.
Upon the bow toward East Skiddaw
This sinful Captain Dan
He painted just one single word—
The same which it was 'Ann';
And on the bow toward Skiddaw West
He likewise put one name,
And not no more; and I will state
'Eliza' was that same.
Thus, when she berthed to Skiddaw West
Eliza Ann could see
How Dan for love and gratitood
Had named her after she;
And likewise when to East Skiddaw
That boat bow-foremost came,
His Ann Eliza plain could see
The vessel bore her name.
Thuswise for nigh on twenty year,
As I remarked before
Dan cumfuscated them two wives
And sailed from shore to shore.
I reckon he might, to this day,
Have kept his sinful ways
And fooled them trustin’ female wives,
Except there come a haze:
It was a thick November haze
Accompanied by frost,
And Dan, in steerin’ ‘crost the sound,
He got his bearin’s lost.
So Dan he cast his anchor out,
And anchored on the sound;
And when the haze riz some next day,
His boat had swung clean round.
So, not bethinkin’ how it was,
Dan steered for Skiddaw West;
For he had sot up all that night,
And shorely needed rest.
Well, when into his ferry-slip
His ferry-craft he ran,
Upon the shore he seen his wife:
To wit, Eliza Ann.
Says he, 'I’ll tie this vessel up
And rest about a week;
I need a rest,' and ‘t was just then
He heard an awful shriek.
'O Villyun!' shrieked Eliza Ann.
'Oh! What—what do I see?
You don’t not love me any more!
You’ve done deserted me!'
She pointed to that ferry-craft
With one wild, vicious stare.
Dan looked and seen the telltale name
Of 'Ann' a-painted there!
What could he do? He done his best!
'Lost! Lost! Alas!' he cried;
And, kicking off his rubber boots,
Jumped overboard—and died!
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Night Of The Dog
Shot in L.A. and
brought to Palm Beach,
the crew of this film
was peachy peach.
Funny film that
I did see, I photographed
the crew in W.Palm Beach
and at the hotel named
Gulfstream.
Now I have photos
of Jeremy,2 Peter’s
Michael, Esthon,
& Ian,
These are funny
actors worth
see an.
Especially when
one cast member
kissed Razel
on the lips,
this photo
is totally
hilarious.
Now catch
This movie
On DVD,
you will
laugh and try
not to pee.
Written by Christina Sunrise on April 2nd,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Old Man
An aged man came into the bar from out of the cold,
he was wearing a monk’s habit as in the days of old.
‘Like death warmed up’ my mother used to say,
as he sat by the open fire on this winters day.
He never spoke, ordered a drink, or even showed his face,
he hardly moved at all and everyone gave him space.
The barman said, “You can’t sit there without buying a drink, ”
a stare of stone was the response, “okay, I’ll give you time to think.”
The place went deathly quiet as whispers could only be heard,
“Where did this monk person come from, doesn’t he look absurd? ”
The whispering stopped as the man turned and looked directly at me,
he pointed with his long skeletal finger and croaked, “You will be he.”
I gulped, and nervously asked, “What are you talking about? ”
“You’ll be leaving here with me, so let’s make our way out.”
“I’m not going anywhere, ” I said, “until I’ve finished my beer.”
“That’s fine by me, ” he said, “I’ll be waiting here.”
To humour the old man I asked where he thought we were going.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, and by the way I’ll be doing the rowing? ”
“I’m sorry old man I’m not going anywhere, it’s much too cold outside.”
“You haven’t got it yet have you; we’re taking your last boat-ride? ”
“There are no boat-rides until spring the river’s been frozen for a week, ”
said the barman with a grin on his face that went from cheek to cheek.
“It’s not a literal boat-ride you fool it’s a journey everyone must take
and my job is to escort the travellers across the lake.”
“What is this old man on about, there are no lake’s around here,
come on everybody sup up, it’s time for another beer.”
“You are getting on my nerves barman give your mouth a rest,
or I’ll take someone with a mouth the size of his chest.”
The barman looked quite unsettled and threatened to throw him out
unless he ordered a drink, but he refused and called him a lout.
“That’s it, ” the barman said, “I’ve heard enough let’s have you outside.”
“That’s good enough for me, ” said the old man, “you’ll be taking the ride.”
At that precise moment the barman collapsed clutching his heart,
an ambulance was called and within minutes they had made a start.
The paramedics tried in vain to revive him: alas they could do no more,
but see the barman’s spirit and the old man walk through the door.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Her Sea Tale
Her tale is really a very unhappy one
She married a Captain hoping to have fun
She wanted to discover the world with him
Instead of which she only saw the ocean
For he always made sure that
She stayed back on board at every port
In sheer desperation she took a decision
At one such port she stealthily disembarked
And hid herself in an empty warehouse
Just before the ship was set to sail
She watched her husband on the deck
Talking animatedly to a fellow crew member
He was totally unaware that she was ashore
As the vessel sailed she waved it goodbye
Remaining riveted to her hiding spot
Until it was completely out of sight
That was the last she hoped to see of him
Her ex-husband the mean and captain
A sense of peace thencame over her
The worst was finally coming to an end
No longer would she in lonliness whinge
Every time her husband went on a Binge,
Leaving her to her own devices
While he indulged himself and his vices
Now she hopes to lead a more normal life
At the port, taking up odd jobs to support herself
While continuously hoping always that her husband
Will never return to claim her back
So that she can enjoy her new found freedom
And be relieved from a lifetime of boredom
poem by Sandra Martyres
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0286 Aircrew Stopover
As you walk out of the palatial marble foyer
of the refurbished four-star hotel
where the ‘front desk’ is a healthy walk away
from the discreetly supervised, invisibly recorded entrance,
there they are lined up waiting for their transport –
the airline crew
immaculate, fresh, custom-fit navy uniforms,
neat to ad-sleek hair, those crisp, jaunty neck-scarves
which are forever 1950s and band-box-fresh New World,
they are lined up like some Sultan’s Weekly Choice
for your inspection. Air Caribbean, can they be?
They line up in some informally formal
(isn’t that the ideal for a reassuring cabin crew?)
hierarchy – at the front the quietly heroic captain,
(do firm shaved aftered jaws and distant eyes come with the job?)
then the other cockpit crew; and down the line
the cuties. The last ‘dusky beauty’ is jail-bait young..
so as you pass this line-up, dressed for duty but just waiting,
but so alert, fifteen pairs of bright eyes check you out professionally,
and you them…
you and these smart pleasers have shared the hotel overnight
and you never knew… And the fantasies of lust are here paraded –
do their eyes linger on you just that extra microsecond,
as if – can it be – they’re thinking just the same thought as you?
So for a second, secure in the luxury of the untouchable,
you, they, look full-on, hungry, at each other… and as you walk away,
the barest, barest of backward glances transform the line
into the cast of a lustfilled airport inflight mile-high
discardable paperback
awaiting your wildest best-selling fantasies
on the crowded grubby train-ride home
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Greenland Whale Fisheries
[the pogues version]
------------------------------------------
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
And of march the eighteenth day,
We hoisted our colors to the top of the mast
And for greenland sailed away, brave boys,
And for greenland sailed away.
The lookout in the crosstrees stood
With spyglass in his hand;
Theres a whale, theres a whale,
And a whalefish he cried
And she blows at every span, brave boys
She blows at every span.
The captain stood on the quarter deck,
The ice was in his eye;
Overhaul, overhaul! let your gibsheets fall,
And youll put your boats to sea, brave boys
And youll put your boats to sea.
Our harpoon struck and the line played out,
With a single flourish of his tail,
He capsized the boat and we lost five men,
And we did not catch the whale, brave boys,
And we did not catch the whale.
The losing of those five jolly men,
It grieved the captain sore,
But the losing of that fine whalefish
Now it grieved him ten times more, brave boys
Now it grieved him ten times more.
Oh greenland is a barren land
A land that bares no green
Where theres ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow
And the daylights seldom seen, brave boys
And the daylights seldom seen.
[greenland fisheries]
------------------------------------------------
twas in eighteen hundred and fifty-three
And of june the thirteenth day,
That our gallant ship her anchor weighed,
And for greenland bore away, brave boys,
And for greenland bore away.
The lookout in the crosstrees stood
With spyglass in his hand;
Theres a whale, theres a whale,
Theres whalefish he cried
And she blows at every span, brave boys
She blows at every span.
The captain stood on the quarter deck,
And a fine little man was he;
Overhaul, overhaul! let your davit tackles fall,
And launch your boats for sea, brave boys
And launch your boats for sea.
Now the boats were launched and the men aboard,
And the whale was full in view.
Resolved was each seaman bold
To steer where the whalefish blew, brave boys
To steer where the whalefish blew.
We stuck the whale the line paid out,
But she gave a flourish with her tail,
The boat capsized and four men were drowned,
And we never caught that whale, brave boys,
And we never caught that whale.
To lose the whale, our captain said,
It grieves my heart full sore,
But oh! to lose (those) four gallant men
It grieves me ten times more, brave boys
It grieves me ten times more.
The winter star doth now appear,
So, boys well anchor weight;
Its time to leave this cold country
And homeward bear away, brave boys
And homeward bear away.
Oh greenland is a dreadful place
A land thats never green
Where theres ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow
And the daylights seldom seen brave boys
But the daylights seldom seen.
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wreck of the Barque Wm. Paterson of Liverpool
Ye landsmen all attend my verse, and I'll tell to ye a tale
Concerning the barque "Wm. Paterson" that was lost in a tempestuous gale;
She was on a voyage from Bangkok to the Clyde with a cargo of Teakwood,
And the crew numbered Fifteen in all of seamen firm and good.
'Twas on the 11th of March, when a violent gale from the southward broke out,
And for nine days during tempestuous weather their ship was tossed about
By the angry sea, and the barque she sprang a leak,
Still the crew wrought at the pumps till their hearts were like to break.
And the pumps were kept constantly going for fourteen long hours,
And the poor men were drenched to the skin with sea spray showers;
Still they wrougnt at the pumps till they became rather clogged
Until at last the barque became thoroughly water-logged.
Oh! hard was the fate of these brave men,
While the water did rush in from stern to stem,
Poor souls,'twas enough to have driven them frantic,
To be drifting about water-logged in the Atlantic. At last she became unmanageable and her masts had to be cut away,
Which the brave crew performed quickly without delay;
Still gales of more or less violence prevailed every day,
Whilst the big waves kept dashing o'er them, likewise the spray.
And with the fearful hurricane the deckhouse and galley were carried away,
Yet the thought of a speedy deliverance kept up their courage day by day,
And the captain prepared for the breaking up of the ship without dismay,
And to save his rations he reduced each man to two biscuits a day.
The brave heroes managed to save a pinnace about fifteen feet long,
And into it thirteen of the crew quickly and cautiously did throng,
With two bags of biscuits and a cask of water out of the tank.
And for these precious mercies, God they did thank;
Who is the giver of all good things,
And to those that put their trust in him often succour brings
And such has been the case with these brave men at sea,
That sent Captain McMullan to save them and bring them to Dundee.
When once into the pinnace they improvised a sail into a tent,
Which to the crew some little shelter lent;
Still every day they were drifting towards the coast of Greenland,
Yet they hoped in God that speedy deliverance might be near at hand.
And as every day passed by they felt woe begone,
Because no sail could they see on the horizon;
And they constructed a sea anchor to keep the boat's head to sea,
And not withstanding their hardships they stood out bravely.
And on the 19th of March a ship hove in sight,
Which proved to be the "Slieve Roe" to their delight;
Then they hoisted a signal of distress when they espied the "Slieve Roe,"
But it was not seen on account of the wreck being in the water so low.
But as soon as Captain McMullan knew it was a signal of distress,
Then heroically and quickly his men he did address,
He cried! come my men keep the ship close to the wind,
And let's try if we can these unfortunate souls find.
And as the "Slieve Roe" to them drew near,
Poor souls they gave a hearty cheer;
Then they were immediately taken on board,
And they thanked Captain McMullan for saving them, likewise the Lord.
Then a crew from the "Slieve Roe" were sent away,
For the two remaining members of the crew without delay;
The Captain and a Sailor, together with a cat and a pet dog,
Which had been the companions of the sailors, and seemed as frisky as a frog.
And when they had all got safe on board,
With one accord they thanked the Lord;
And Captain McMullan kindly did them treat,
By giving them dry clothing and plenty of meat.
And for his kind treatment unto them he deserves great praise,
For his many manly and kindly ways,
By saving so many lives during the time he has been at sea,
And in particular for fetching the crew of the "Wm. Paterson" safe to Dundee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The Man And The Robbers
A MAN HAD GONE TO HIS BANK AND WITHDREW A LARGE SUM OF MONEY, AND ON HIS WAY BACK, HE SUDDENLY HAPPENED UPON A CREW OF ROBBERS AND HE TURNED BACK AND RAN AWAY AS FAST AS HIS LEGS COULD RUN!
AS HE RAN AWAY, HE SUDDENLY RAN INTO A CREW OF NIGERIAN POLICEMEN! AND THE MAN WAS FLABBERGASTED, HE DIDN'T KNOW WHICH WAY TO RUN ANYMORE AND HE SUDDENLY TURNED BACK AND BEGAN TO RUN TOWARDS THE ROBBERS AND HE SHOUTED AS HE RAN, WAIT MR ROBBER! WAIT!
THE SURPRISED ROBBERS STOOD WHILE HE CAME TO THEM AND HUMBLY HANDED THE MONEY OVER TO THEM, AND ONE OF THEM ASKED, WHY DID YOU RETURN TO GIVE US THE MONEY WE WANTED TO ROB YOU OF? AND HE REPLIED, OH, AS I RAN AWAY FROM YOU, I RAN INTO A CREW OF NIGERIAN POLICEMEN! AND I DECIDED TO COME BACK AND GIVE YOU ROBBERS THE MONEY INSTEAD!
A CURIOUS ROBBER ASKED, WHY DID YOU PREFER TO GIVE US THE MONEY? AND THE MAN SAID, OH, WELL, YOU ROBBERS WOULD ROB ME AND LEAVE ME ALIVE, BUT THE NIGERIAN POLICEMEN WOULD ROB ME, THEN SHOOT ME DEAD AND TELL THE WORLD THAT I WAS THE ROBBER! STATED THE MAN TO THE ASTONISHED ROBBERS
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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O' Ye Captain of Mine
O' Ye Captain of Mine
By: Adam M. Snow
O' ye captain of mine,
In my quarters we dine,
Tell tales of a journey once spent.
Life on sea across more than me,
To the ends of the Earth we sail.
The stars guide us without a fuss,
Through the uncharted sea.
To a land of youth of many uncouth,
To a battle of bloodshed wage.
O' ye captain of mine,
Of the ship 'Vast Divine'
Rotted many years to now.
The wars once fought and gold once sought,
Laughter of the forgotten crew.
The songs we sang with our devilish slang,
Bottles of rum in hand.
The joys of blasphemy as we sailed the sea,
Into the sun cast reflection.
Mysteries untold of a journey behold,
The stories of forever youth.
A fountain of gold where mermaids lay cold,
A journey of death it was.
The blood rage, the inferno blaze engage,
Corpses taint the sea.
Sounds of cannons blasting, soon everlasting,
Fills the salty air with greed.
The treasure once sought claims lives of all who fought,
And yours as well, O' captain of mine.
Tonight I dine in my quarters alone,
To forever cherish your stories our own.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Sail Away
Lock the door, suns a fallin.
Poke the fire, dont let the cold in.
Gonna try to sail away from the rest of my life.
Found a boat to make the break in.
Filled with hope bout the step Im takin.
Gonna try to sail away from the rest of my life.
Spent a long time listning to the captain of the sea,
Shoutin orders to his crew; no one hears but me.
Cast away, tides a runnin
Hoist the sail, strong winds comin.
Gonna try to sail away from the rest of my life.
Spent a long time listning to the captain of the sea,
Shoutin orders to his crew; no one hears but me.
Lock the door, suns a fallin.
Poke the fire, dont let the cold in.
Gonna try to sail away from the rest of my life.
Gonna try to sail away from the rest of my life.
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rocking on the Bay of Bengal
Standing on the sea-board,
I stared out to the bay
and got gripped into the fears
as the frothing waves were lashing against
the boat, arranged for our trip around.
When a strong wave was surging,
our fisher-folk lugged the boat into the sea,
and called us all to jump into it.
The sea was calm to them being tamed,
but the waves were hissing at us.
We were holding tight a rope
that moved the boat straight over the waves.
The engine at the back
gave momentum to the tiny vessel
and succor to our hope of easy sail.
We were heading towards the open sea
sailing across the thoughts of wonder.
Some sea-urchins were hovering around us
But we were warned not to touch them
as it would cause itching all over the body.
Our boat went off a place of swirls.
“If we get into it, full fathom five
we will go down and lie”-they smiled.
We pleaded them to turn back.
They stopped the engine
and the boat was rocked
on a blue expanse of water.
I felt how could I have fallen asleep
When my mother swung me in the cradle
tied at the branch of a Neem tree in our garden,
singing songs of folk and myth.
Tears welled from my eyes!
“ We would dropp anchor in the bay
and kip for a while on the boat at night
dreaming dreams of wonder and horror”,
Our fisher-folk said and brought us ashore.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Captain Reece
Of all the ships upon the blue,
No ship contained a better crew
Than that of worthy CAPTAIN REECE,
Commanding of THE MANTELPIECE.
He was adored by all his men,
For worthy CAPTAIN REECE, R.N.,
Did all that lay within him to
Promote the comfort of his crew.
If ever they were dull or sad,
Their captain danced to them like mad,
Or told, to make the time pass by,
Droll legends of his infancy.
A feather bed had every man,
Warm slippers and hot-water can,
Brown windsor from the captain's store,
A valet, too, to every four.
Did they with thirst in summer burn,
Lo, seltzogenes at every turn,
And on all very sultry days
Cream ices handed round on trays.
Then currant wine and ginger pops
Stood handily on all the "tops;"
And also, with amusement rife,
A "Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life."
New volumes came across the sea
From MISTER MUDIE'S libraree;
THE TIMES and SATURDAY REVIEW
Beguiled the leisure of the crew.
Kind-hearted CAPTAIN REECE, R.N.,
Was quite devoted to his men;
In point of fact, good CAPTAIN REECE
Beatified THE MANTELPIECE.
One summer eve, at half-past ten,
He said (addressing all his men):
"Come, tell me, please, what I can do
To please and gratify my crew.
"By any reasonable plan
I'll make you happy if I can;
My own convenience count as NIL:
It is my duty, and I will."
Then up and answered WILLIAM LEE
(The kindly captain's coxswain he,
A nervous, shy, low-spoken man),
He cleared his throat and thus began:
"You have a daughter, CAPTAIN REECE,
Ten female cousins and a niece,
A Ma, if what I'm told is true,
Six sisters, and an aunt or two.
"Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me,
More friendly-like we all should be,
If you united of 'em to
Unmarried members of the crew.
"If you'd ameliorate our life,
Let each select from them a wife;
And as for nervous me, old pal,
Give me your own enchanting gal!"
Good CAPTAIN REECE, that worthy man,
Debated on his coxswain's plan:
"I quite agree," he said, "O BILL;
It is my duty, and I will.
"My daughter, that enchanting gurl,
Has just been promised to an Earl,
And all my other familee
To peers of various degree.
"But what are dukes and viscounts to
The happiness of all my crew?
The word I gave you I'll fulfil;
It is my duty, and I will.
"As you desire it shall befall,
I'll settle thousands on you all,
And I shall be, despite my hoard,
The only bachelor on board."
The boatswain of THE MANTELPIECE,
He blushed and spoke to CAPTAIN REECE:
"I beg your honour's leave," he said;
"If you would wish to go and wed,
"I have a widowed mother who
Would be the very thing for you -
She long has loved you from afar:
She washes for you, CAPTAIN R."
The Captain saw the dame that day -
Addressed her in his playful way -
"And did it want a wedding ring?
It was a tempting ickle sing!
"Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
We'll all be married this day week
At yonder church upon the hill;
It is my duty, and I will!"
The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece,
And widowed Ma of CAPTAIN REECE,
Attended there as they were bid;
It was their duty, and they did.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Wreck without anchor
I disclose you with this love
and I let you be suspended in yourself
because you're a wreck without anchor
You embarrass me,
but the confusion you feel is the result of having forgotten
your love for me.
You embarrass me against your own sense...
You assume the idea
that no danger will
overwhelm you completely
for abandoning you
into nothingness
Like waves that drive the boat ashore
I expect you to be disintegrated
slowly and waiting in your own
when no anchor can keep you in the offshore
because the wood is too rotten.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Fit the Second ( Hunting of the Snark )
The Bellman's Speech
The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies--
Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
The moment one looked in his face!
He had bought a large map representing the sea,
Without the least vestige of land:
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.
"What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?"
So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
"They are merely conventional signs!
"Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
But we've got our brave Captain to thank"
(So the crew would protest) "that he's bought us the best--
A perfect and absolute blank!"
This was charming, no doubt: but they shortly found out
That the Captain they trusted so well
Had only one notion for crossing the ocean
And that was to tingle his bell.
He was thoughtful and grave--but the orders he gave
Were enough to bewilder a crew.
When he cried "Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!"
What on earth was the helmsman to do?
Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
That frequently happens in tropical climes,
When a vessel is, so to speak, "snarked".
But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
That the ship would not travel due West!
But the danger was past--they had landed at last,
With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view
Which consisted of chasms and crags.
The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
And repeated in musical tone
Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe--
But the crew would do nothing but groan.
He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
And bade them sit down on the beach:
And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
As he stood and delivered his speech.
"Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).
"We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!
"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!
"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.
"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o'-the-Wisp.
"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.
"The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.
"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes--
A sentiment open to doubt.
"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
From those that have whiskers, and scratch.
"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet I feel it my duty to say
Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.
poem by Lewis Carroll
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The Glendy Burk
De
Glendy Burk
is mighty fast boat,
Wid a mighty fast captain too;
He sits up dah on de hurricane roof
And he keeps his eye on de crew.
I can't stay here, for dey work too hard;
I'm bound to leave dis town;
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When de
Glendy Burk
comes down.
Chorus:
Ho! for Lou'siana!
I'm bound to leave dis town;
I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back
When de Glendy Burk comes down.
De
Glendy Burk
has a funny old crew
And dey sing de boatman's song,
Dey burn de pitch and de pine knot too,
For to shove de boat along.
De smoke goes up and de ingine roars
And de wheel goes round and round,
So fair you well! for I'll take a little ride
When de
Glendy Burk
comes down.
Chorus
I'll work all night in de wind and storm,
I'll work all day in de rain,
'Till I find myself on de levydock
In New Orleans again.
Dey make me mow in de hay field here
And knock my head wid de flail,
I'll go wha dey work wid de sugar and de cane
And roll on de cotten bale.
Chorus
My lady love is as pretty as a pink,
I'll meet her on de way
I'll take her back to de sunny old south
And day I'll make her stay
So don't you fret my honey dear,
Oh! don't you fret, Miss Brown
I'll take you back 'fore de middle of de week
When de
Glendy Burk
comes down.
Chorus
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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The Yarn of the Nancy Bell
'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.
His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."
And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
Till I really felt afraid,
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And so I simply said:
"Oh, elderly man, it's little I know
Of the duties of men of the sea,
And I'll eat my hand if I understand
However you can be
"At once a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."
Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which
Is a trick all seamen larn,
And having got rid of a thumping quid,
He spun this painful yarn:
"'Twas in the good ship NANCY BELL
That we sailed to the Indian Sea,
And there on a reef we come to grief,
Which has often occurred to me.
"And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned
(There was seventy-seven o' soul),
And only ten of the NANCY'S men
Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll.
"There was me and the cook and the captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig.
"For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink,
Till a-hungry we did feel,
So we drawed a lot, and, accordin' shot
The captain for our meal.
"The next lot fell to the NANCY'S mate,
And a delicate dish he made;
Then our appetite with the midshipmite
We seven survivors stayed.
"And then we murdered the bo'sun tight,
And he much resembled pig;
Then we wittled free, did the cook and me,
On the crew of the captain's gig.
"Then only the cook and me was left,
And the delicate question, 'Which
Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose,
And we argued it out as sich.
"For I loved that cook as a brother, I did,
And the cook he worshipped me;
But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed
In the other chap's hold, you see.
"'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says TOM;
'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be, -
'I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I;
And 'Exactly so,' quoth he.
"Says he, 'Dear JAMES, to murder me
Were a foolish thing to do,
For don't you see that you can't cook ME,
While I can - and will - cook YOU!'
"So he boils the water, and takes the salt
And the pepper in portions true
(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot.
And some sage and parsley too.
"'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,
Which his smiling features tell,
''T will soothing be if I let you see
How extremely nice you'll smell.'
"And he stirred it round and round and round,
And he sniffed at the foaming froth;
When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals
In the scum of the boiling broth.
"And I eat that cook in a week or less,
And - as I eating be
The last of his chops, why, I almost drops,
For a wessel in sight I see!
"And I never larf, and I never smile,
And I never lark nor play,
But sit and croak, and a single joke
I have - which is to say:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig!'"
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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