A pirate now, and forever.
Fresh yet familiar
sails on my horizon
seen countless times in the calm
this day
ripe
for the taking
slaking
give rise to wildness
escaping
from bondage forced
by the latest
largess and exile.
Fancy this boarding
and the swinging of ropes
and the spoils and the fire and the fairest
of hostage, of heroine, of heated
decision
forged
in ancient kiln.
You’ll walk it
this plank
at the point of this sword
choose cutlass
or crevasse
of Neptune.
Bound, you will fall
Where I’ll catch you
enthralled
and the sinking will
salt old sails.
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
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Welcome to "When I Wax"-- a place to escape the pedants and wax poetic, or even wax artistic.
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
When I Wax is such a place for me. Blogging drafts of poetry and other sundries is like practice fly-casting on the front lawn... it may look silly, but it's effective...
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
When I Wax is such a place for me. Blogging drafts of poetry and other sundries is like practice fly-casting on the front lawn... it may look silly, but it's effective...
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CURRENT MOON
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Thank you
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
George Gordon Byron
The Destruction of Sennacherib
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
4 comments:
Well, I have always been drawn to Pirates - and your poem here did not disappoint. Many great lines. Loved your use of fresh language. Beautiful!
You've a captive audience...depicting well the excitement of the taking.
Great lines: "decision forged in ancient kiln" and "the sinking will salt old sails"
Filled with a sense of a pirate's adventure. ;) I'm loving the sounds of words here not often seen (but apt in the context of this poem) -- largess, cutlass, crevasse. I'm a fan of the "S" sound following a vowel, for reading poems aloud. Cheers.
Harr... seems the swarthy inner self is unsustainable... I laugh at this poem a bit now, time having passed. Anyway, thanks all for the kind words.
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