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
