Turnbuckles
Sometimes I think of the cargo holds on ships
with the metal covers secured by turnbuckles
to protect cargo in stormy seas
Even if the bow noses into towering waves
the covers hold and the ship won't sink
nor will the cargo shift
Then I read some of the posts that have
turnbuckles keeping secrets battened down
so that nothing leaks
There the metaphor fails in its comparison
because gossip and innuendo have a way
of eluding lock and key
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Liner She's A Lady
The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds --
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e gives 'er all she needs;
But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun',
They're just the same as you an' me a-plyin' up an' down!
Plyin' up an' down, Jenny, 'angin' round the Yard,
All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard;
Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' old --
Plyin' up an' down, Jenny, waitin' in the cold!
The Liner she's a lady by the paint upon 'er face,
An' if she meets an accident they count it sore disgrace:
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e's always 'andy by,
But, oh, the little cargo-boats! they've got to load or die.
The Liner she's a lady, and 'er route is cut an' dried;
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e always keeps beside;
But, oh, the little cargo-boats that 'aven't any man,
They've got to do their business first, and make the most they can!
The Liner she's a lady, and if a war should come,
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e'd bid 'er stay at home;
But, oh, the little cargo-boats that fill with every tide!
'E'd 'ave to up an' fight for them, for they are England's pride.
The Liner she's a lady, but if she wasn't made,
There still would be the cargo-boats for 'ome an' foreign trade.
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, but if we wasn't 'ere,
'E wouldn't have to fight at all for 'ome an' friends so dear.
'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, 'angin' round the Yard,
All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 'Ard;
Anythin' for business, an' we're growin' old --
'Ome an' friends so dear, Jenny, waitin' in the cold!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Cargoes
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.
poem by John Masefield (1902)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Just Like Larry
I'd like to jettison your medicine
back to where you came from
you keep your bell and edison
away from my grandson
stand son on your own bone
don't forget the home that you come from
don't let them say your name wrong
just like larry I'll take it to the hoop
make one false move in one fell swoop
and then I pass it to the trigger man
bow down to the sound if you still can
131-XHD
I got my beautiful dutiful cargo 250
plenty of misshalls and plenty of cat calls
and I can attest to the rest of the best stalls
but never have I ever made a match with sickness
look both ways and dispatch with a quickness
gimme some roy and gimme some speed
gather all around to the world and read on
til you get to the part that's righteous
it's an unbearable likeness
131-XHD
I got my beautiful dutiful cargo 250
song performed by by Dispatch from Who Are We Living For?
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marrying off a daughter is like loading cargo on a ship.
Innuendo, Gossip 'And' LIES!
Isn't it easy for you to sit and criticize?
With nothing you do to be held accountable to.
With no responsibility...
But to approve or disapprove as you choose.
And say what you like and dislike about others.
And who you have chosen to agonize and despise.
With innuendo, gossip and lies!
'Oh my...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' lies? '
That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!
'Ewww...
That's awful! '
Isn't it easy for you to sit and criticize?
Without one effort made to create and strategize.
And those all day and night sleepless work binges...
Could not approach or touch,
Your lazy appetite for life!
Since what you do best,
Is make attempts to initiate unrest!
With innuendo, gossip and lies!
'Oh my...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' lies? '
That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!
'Oh my...'
Isn't it easy for you to sit and criticize?
With nothing you do to be held accountable to.
With no responsibility...
But to approve or disapprove as you choose.
And say what you like and dislike about others.
And who you have chosen to agonize and despise.
'Don't say it!
Not with...'
Yep,
That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!
'Oh my...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' lies? '
That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!
People like you who do nothing but criticize,
Are pitiful!
Despicable.
Obnoxious and unwise.
Doing what you do to antagonize people's lives.
'Oh,
Please allow me to say it...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' lies? '
That's right...
Innuendo, gossip 'and' LIES!
'Oh my! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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History
So far away...
history now
The magic...
burns beyond
the ashes on the ground
The magic,
on the streets
in our eyes,
through our lives...
so far away.
The decades flip
as pages to
a short book
The days were run down
like waves before
a clipper ship
the Flying Cloud
Even though...the cargo hold...the essence...
spices, silks, exotic teas
magic, excitement, ecstasy
Like a river I cross in Montana
the bittersweet
Bitterroot.
poem by Midnights Voice
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The Cargo
As we get poorer,
We accept any gift, grant, loan or help with a glee;
But my words have different sounds to different people.
Is it rumours when you dig up a dead body from the mud?
Iniquity upon iniquity to the cultures of man;
For many people are killed in cold blood and we say nothing.
People drees nicely to churches but,
They are still the workers of iniquity;
Like a conflict of a dream after commodities.
How do we overcome our debts?
You are very young and gifted,
You are very young and talented,
You are very young and educated,
But you are broke without a clue.
Of the hustle and bustle,
Who do i blame when the sun rises?
From a parcel to a luggage before the cargo is sent,
Like the kind of human activities all around us.
What a world that we live in!
When we always expect something from someone;
Iniquity upon iniquity to the cultures of man;
Like the cargo at the harbour.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Sea Holds Many Secrets
The sea holds many secrets
in sleeping ship that lie below.
For centuries, thousands of ships and men
have met a watery grave.
Some have been lost to storms
that seem to come from nowhere,
while others to battles fought at sea.
Whatever reason they went down
their secrets went with them.
Now the sea holds many secrets
and is reluctant to let go of them.
11 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Welcome Onboard
Welcome onboard
I don’t care to read of other people dreams it has nothing to do with
me, so I will tell you a real story. The day after my anniversary I walked
along the docks of Faro saw a sign, a cargo ship needed a chief steward.
I walked up the gangway, spoke to the captain and got the job.
On deck when the provision arrived; I was in charge just like before.
The captain came he looked baffled; according to my passport I was 73
and far too old to join a ship. The master thanked me, getting victuals
onboard signing for them and getting the food stuff safely stored.
The ship left without me but her captain saluted me, it was raining no
one saw my tears. Whatever I do these days even driving a car there are
people telling me I’m too old. Yet in Japan their oldest porno star, a man
of 77 and still working, so why will they not let me go back to sea again?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Love Spill
I plied the wine dark waters of the world
whose depths carry all the unknown
holding tightly to my cargo of dreamstuff
fearing pirates but moreso being alone
I saw around me other ships take harbor
some sank against the rocks along the way
still others fled free holding trust together
I myself was still adrift upon the waves
I knew I could not wander forever on the sea
or tread the troubled waters with any haste
So in the depths of my heart sprang a crack
and leaked out love like radioactive waste
poem by Poet Dragon
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Nr 9
Saw her first a few months ago
Spacing in vienna - oversea cargo
Saw her in the mirror
She has a stupid name
Maybe Im too honest
Friendly in an arrogant way
Saturday evening she gave me her number
Ive lost it already she awakens my hunger
Saw her in the mirror
She has a stupid name
Maybe Im too honest
Friendly in an arrogant way
Saw her first a few months ago
Spacing in vienna - oversea cargo
Saw her in the mirror
She has a stupid name
Maybe Im too honest
Friendly in an arrogant way
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To get to know people, you have to eat a full donkey's cargo of salt together.
We recognize that it is not only inbound but also outbound (cargo) that can pose a risk as well.
quote by Asa Hutchinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Your Side
What you want is what i have on my body,
What i want is what you have on your body,
And i am still on your side no matter what!
For the sea grew more and more violent and,
They carted the cargo overboard to lighen the ship.
We were fast asleep in love when it occured,
So tell me if you have a dream for me;
Because i do love you and,
I want to know how you do feel about this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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And let us be frank, the security threats that emanate from our ports come from foreign cargo.
quote by Dana Rohrabacher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet Without A Pen
A Poet without a Pen
On terrace I see city’s light shine as cold pearls along the bay,
but night sentinels have a duty to shine till first light of dawn.
Clouds are pushed around but sometimes there is a gap and
moonlight shines through. In the bay four cargo ships are
anchored, their mast lights are as low hanging bright stars.
Eight o´clock, evening and cooks on each ship are standing on
deck smoke a cigarette drinking coffee, glad this day is over.
Perhaps they see what I see before going into their cabin
leafing through old newspaper trying not to think of tomorrow.
Cooks on ships are dreamers neither crew nor officers and
every day they have to try to create something new with hand
and mind, sometimes overwhelmed, and since they never have
a day off, they tend to drink too, yet always do their duty.
A cook can´t articulate his longings or has he awareness to change.
Yet he continue his lonesome, unappreciated quest, because he
is a poet without a pen.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Fragments - Lines 0667 - 0682
If I had money, Simonides, I would not feel such pain
As I do now, when in the company of the noble.
As it is, wealth recognizes me but passes by, and I am speechless
Out of want, although it would seem that I know better than most
That now, with our white sails lowered, we are being carried
Out of the Melian Sea through the murky night,
And the men refuse to bail, although the sea sweeps over
Both sides of the ship. Indeed, only with great difficulty is anyone likely to be
Saved, acting as they are: they have stopped the helmsman,
Good though he was, who kept watch skillfully;
And they are plundering the cargo by force. Discipline has perished,
And fair division is no longer carried out in an open fashion;
The deckhands are in control, and the base have the upper hand over the noble.
I am afraid that the waves may swallow up the ship.
Let this, well hidden, be my riddling message for the noble,
Though a base man too may understand it, if he is clever.
Providing a Lightness
The air seems to be relieved of less stench!
Have the 'rats' been supplied with stronger deodorant?
'No!
For some reason they have been jumping overboard...
And the ship is being steered in a new direction!
A fresh case of vodka
Has been located to occupy the captain!
And we have been freed to continue this journey,
Without his pets he has reluctantly dismissed it seems.
Providing a lightness to the cargo once heavily carried.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Old Song Re-Sung
I saw three ships a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea,
The first her masts were silver,
Her hull was ivory.
The snows came drifting softly,
And lined her white as wool;
Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary,
Thy Cradle beautiful!
I saw three ships a-sailing,
The next was red as blood,
Her decks shone like a ruby,
Encrimsoned all her wood.
Her main-mast stood up lonely,
A lonely Cross and stark.
Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary,
Bring all men to that ark!
I saw three ships a-sailing.
The third for cargo bore
The souls of men redeemed,
That shall be slaves no more.
The lost beloved faces,
I saw them glad and free.
Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary,
When wilt thou come for me?
poem by Katharine Tynan
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