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September 2, 2023

Where Art Thou Hemingway?

it’s so hard to be original in these times when mimicking is much easier 

copy, cut, paste…who needs the hassle of thinking?

racking the brain to try to create, be original without being too far out there

I wake up at noon and I really should get up now; just fifteen more minutes 

out of the bunk with leaden sea legs

a tremendous peace one has standing on the ship’s bridge with an ocean view 

captain serenity in charge

I’ve always said this; the ocean is the purest form of poetry

wet & blue coming at you

Ernest Hemingway, I know you are out there lad somewhere, maybe in Key West?

working on your latest and greatest

typewriter clicking away with the sound of the crickets 

/*/*/*    /*/*/*

half moon in the sky, a bottle of Madeira / light wind from the east

looking at the spiritual constellations and sensing the tides are changing

mariner spirit / catch a strong wind in the sails and ride the ancient waves

around the cape, the north forty awaits my unsteady ship

checking the sea charts, the captain plots the course for the blue frontier 

land be damned, full speed ahead on the engine’s telegraph

any luck at all and we will be in port before dark and then painting the town

pouring down rum and whiskey and checking out the harbor girls

the wild of the wilds, the forest of the forest, the sea of the seas

eyelids at half-mast and asleep at the wheel

death comes and steals the sun from the sky

but replaces it with a beautiful moon