My Words

Understanding the World through words

Tag: sailing

Sailing—poem

Work your magic
calling on fate
My left eye is glitching
Like an analog TV
with static electricity.
The perils of a few more
years under the belt
A few more beers too.
Reminds me of a plump
Beachball someone forgot
that it ends up on the side
of the road
drifting
sometimes sailing with
the wind, until it gets stuck.
Calling on magic and fate
I’m tired of getting stuck
being in a rut—
I like the feeling of sailing along
being carried by the Pacific breeze.

Wise Sailor

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In Irons

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My voyage
is in shambles.
I’ve
Worked so hard and
In a twinkling of an eye,
I’m at square one.

I don’t know why
Things turn out
The way they do?

I pray for direction
And fortitude.

You know my heart,
Oh God.

Things can
Always be worse,

I understand the
Misery
Of consequential
Possibilities.

Nothing about this
Is dignified,

Nothing about my
Plight exists
Right now,

Other than
Momentary grief.

It’s time to start over,
And get a fresh wind.

I’m stuck in irons and
Need to release
My rudder,

While I
Set sail for
A better place.

Salty Eyes

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Ever wonder what it’s
like to be a sailor?

I’ve met a few
in my days,
men who live for the
great blue yonder.

Men, who’s legs
feel squeamish
and landlocked
when on solid ground.

The ocean for them
is the greener
side of the pastures.

They’re always talking
about their boats
as if
they were forlorned
mistresses.

Their candy shops
are marine and boat
stores, where they stop
to buy little
trinkets for their
loved one.

Men who know
each marina by
name, up and down
the coast line.

They even know
the secret ones
further up the bay
and their
associated
watering holes.

Places where they
can recount
with the liked minded,
their ocean adventures,

their lost marriages,
or that epic sea voyage
they’ve been diligently
planing, over
a pint of beer or two.

Men who know the history
behind grog. Who know the
dangers of a white squall.

Men who can look at the skies
and can tell if its going to rain,
who can tell you its going to be
smooth sailing.

Men who can read the stars
and navigate them like
Joshua Slocum and others
who have tamed the ocean’s
gates.

When you meet a real sailor
you’ll feel the love of the
Ocean in their salty eyes.

Sailors Final Dirge

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The sea, the sea
like a forlorn mistress,
she wants to reclaim me.

In to the deeps I shall go.
As she swallows me whole!

© Copyright 2013 Samuel De Lemos