Bearings To True Poetry

Vintage Words


Veer starboard at the heart
true on until the sun sets beyond
the horizon of your quill. Twenty years
aport makes words flock to your mast
like migrating Canada Geese. Such
broad winged beasts will always fly
natural as poetic ideas.
Avoid the lee shore of non-articulation.
Follow the map marked with verses
of exes. Bad poetry goes South
so take a thought, keel haul it until
it drips with sea salty excellence.
The Charter says all pirated lines
will swing from the yardarm. Ennui
and dry shores are for those who
would prose.
Poet, whirl the wheel and watch
the fo'castles flutter in tune with dawn
and the sun rising. Voyage blank
spaces sea tossed by Nor'easters,
white capped and rich with foam.
May your sun always be rising
in the East. There is no true North.
Go West, old salt. All adventurer
cursed explorers do.



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SSmoothie's picture

Fucking brilliant! Awe filled

Fucking brilliant! Awe filled hugss :D

Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ยก$&am

allets's picture


My high school Captain Horatio Hornblower reading for the language. The title is from a Bishwan comment. I enjoyed writing this one. Hugz and more hugz.

Lady A