Quotes about pirate, page 16
If You Need A Reminder Just Look In My Fridge
I remember you, you and you.
But that's all I do.
Don't think you can invade my life.
When you are no longer part of it.
And you will never be again.
That storm has come and gone.
I've watch too many dawns by myself.
I picked up too many of the pieces from your aftermath of your destruction.
It is not a reluctance.
It's a absolute refusal.
Only a black flag waves.
The absence of all light.
The negative energies, the negative auras I can feel them when you come creeping around my front door.
Baton down the hatches it is time to prepare for war.
That is all feel.
Fire before I get caught in the cross fire.
They will be no more warnings shots.
Just get the hell out of here.
Let god give me the hand of fear.
And drive it right into your hearts.
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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Yesteryear
My early days at nursery school
running around and playing the fool.
Getting meningitis and almost dying
and then waking up in the hospital crying.
Eating oranges with ice cream as well
and scrumping for apples down in the dell.
Playing 'knock down ginger' on the door
building camps in the park and so much more.
12 inch records on the radiogram playing
TV's with black and white films displaying.
Skinny dipping and giving the girls a fright
then sleeping on the river island overnight.
Being sacrificed on the rocks at Stonehenge
then chasing my friend to get my revenge.
Playing cowboys and Indians behind hedgerows
and going to Saturday morning picture shows.
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poem by Royston
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We Are Dreams
Walk like children on river moonlight
Sovereign stars of infinite gentle topaz
She shines like spring waters
Laramie ribbons shoulder the dawn
Mountain mist with blue ice eyes
Drink from streams with no adultery
Inspiration from the winter sun
Green peppermint dreams
Purple dresses swoon the market
No twisted thorns shall ruin the day
Gifts of joy swell the river
Diamond smiles circle the night
Dusk has no war only ships of peace
Gardens march like childhood
Naïve blue sky speaks softly
The bass is deep like a galaxy
Wings bright as mellow gold
A voice of wisdom shall prevail
Lets wear flowers that sing
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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Venice, November, 1966
With his head full of Shakespearean tempests
and old notions of poetic justice,
he was ready with his elegies
the day the ocean sailed into the square.
'The sea,' he wrote, 'is a forgiving element,
and history only the old odor of blood.
She will come to rest on the soft floor
of the world, barnacled like a great pirate ship,
and blind fish-mouthing like girls before a glass-
will bump, perhaps, San Marco's brittle bones.'
Pleased with these images, he paused
and conjured visions of a wet apocalypse:
the blown church bobbing like a monstrous water toy,
Doge Dandolo's bronze horses from Byzantium
pawing the black waves, incredulous pigeons
hovering like gulls over the drowning square,
mosaic saints floating gently to pieces.
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poem by Erica Jong
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Jim Hawkins's diary
every boy grew up must go to the sea
home sick, mother's warm embraces to me
Lily, I love you please just wait for me
waving shades of the sails speak silent words to me
father, now you can be proud of me I went to the sea
I wrote in my diary 'Jim Hawkins went to the sea
for the seagulls can fish accompanied only by me'
I met John Silver and he was with a wooden leg
the sea scent was coming out of his hair form a distant ship
Silver was a seafaring man with a red-green parrot
Silver was the only man, Flint feared the most
Flint was a captain of a vessel with six men crew
murdered all six of the crew and left them to shape
outstretched arms pointing to his prime treasure
the ancient captain sent them to Davy Jones' locker
'Darby M Graw, fetch aft the rum'
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poem by Mohammed Hassan
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Ghosts Of The Sea
Calyx of forgotten souls
Crushed in the labyrinth
The sea whispers with ghosts
Cold night of the mariner
I hear the sigh of time
Every cry a breath of starlight
These dreams wash ashore
All your shelter leaves you
She fades like a winters day
No footprints along the tide
Seagulls circle golden history
Baroque poetry elegant as blue
Royal blue filled with radiant love
Ambiguous as the free will
Hard like diamond sextant notions
Under the sea my heart shines
Do we belong too one another?
Will the eastern sun bring us home?
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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Official Piety
A PIOUS magistrate! sound his praise throughout
The wondering churches. Who shall henceforth doubt
That the long-wished millennium draweth nigh?
Sin in high places has become devout,
Tithes mint, goes painful-faced, and prays its lie
Straight up to Heaven, and calls it piety!
The pirate, watching from his bloody deck
The weltering galleon, heavy with the gold
Of Acapulco, holding death in check
While prayers are said, brows crossed, and beads are told;
The robber, kneeling where the wayside cross
On dark Abruzzo tells of life's dread loss
From his own carbine, glancing still abroad
For some new victim, offering thanks to God!
Rome, listening at her altars to the cry
Of midnight Murder, while her hounds of hell
Scour France, from baptized cannon and holy bell
And thousand-throated priesthood, loud and high,
Pealing Te Deums to the shuddering sky,
'Thanks to the Lord, who giveth victory!'
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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Jerusalem Is Surrounded
Pageants of gray wolverines
Fallen flowers with synced teeth
The flattery of Persian armies
Minced dreams deep in frozen water
Everything wanes into ashes
Motion of thrills without base
Islands of cement still as enemies
Foghorns are my only poems
Sinful roses fade like winter
The times of freedom diminish
Persecution from the will to power
Esau has brought his curse
The bells no longer dirge
They have buried my desire
We approach the mountains
Towers of self-indulgence
Every minaret is now my enemy
Tolerance cannot bare intolerance
Underground in caverns of catacombs
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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Shipwrecked Tragedies
The Capitan's tailored tales dilated a valiance
Much lethal than a pirate's rapine and encumbrance
A venomous blade to the wretched's grave
A mellifluous immolation surfing the waves
Ensconced in an enthusing fluvial grove
Of prismatic lilies, daisies, and asphodels
Hastily enrapturing to ship the weary oars
When the lightning and thunder are jubilantly
Prancing with tempest winds of sanguinary
Holocaust undulating in the firmament
And toppling ravenously down like a veil
Pouring down the rut of a heirloom gown
Of the widowed bride of a phantom town
Pothering the turgid and billowing vapors
Condensing fumes cached in the great fathoms
Of a slumbering berserk in an intractable shade
Of hollow and gaudy laze of the forlorn escapade,
Where one does not need a horde of iniquitous harpies
To mar the lamentations of the stimulated elegies
And one does not require an ensemble of sirens
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poem by Norman Santos
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A Ballad of Baseball Burdens
The burden of hard hitting. Slug away
Like Honus Wagner or like Tyrus Cobb.
Else fandom shouteth: "Who said you could play?
Back to the jasper league, you minor slob!"
Swat, hit, connect, line out, goet on the job.
Else you shall feel the brunt of fandom's ire
Biff, bang it, clout it, hit it on the knob -
This is the end of every fan's desire.
The burden of good pitching. Curved or straight.
Or in or out, or haply up or down,
To puzzle him that standeth by the plate,
To lessen, so to speak, his bat-renown:
Like Christy Mathewson or Miner Brown,
So pitch that every man can but admire
And offer you the freedom of the town -
This is the end of every fan's desire.
The burden of loud cheering. O the sounds!
The tumult and the shouting from the throats
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poem by Franklin P. Adams
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