Was Granted

fell in, leaning over the edge of the moon,

danced on a shell

made the sea listen to the sound of feet.

waves curled and asked for a photo with the horizon

to oblige was nothing new

but was wanted

so was granted.



oceans have rage

beneath surface

where the meaning of sunrise

cannot reach.


fortune does no favors for the brave

and as hulls cut ripples

into the sea,


what emotions are stirred?




nothing dies for very long

when in fact,

it was only playing

all along.




where mutinies begin are in icebergs

submerged in bone.


captains accustomed to poison

will find themselves Caesar

as mates

revert to legendary tactics.


with blood on the wheel

promotions are granted

rank rearranged

and the depths

accept their sacrifice.



I at Sea

Storm lightened sea in bursts. Close had no current meaning as shore was forgotten in breeze become attack on sails. As each took to a post, a pole, a rope, a task, spread away one from the other and from what lead the ship out this far.


The ‘we’ of the crew has become rhetorical. The teamwork is lost as instinct takes over. Where’s the solidarity in sinking?


Composure kept for the good times can’t be held together as one loses another. As you separates from I. The strength now become multiple singulars is outnumbered by factors beyond control. By elements finding new directions from which to attack.


How awake is one when closest to fears of the end? Or, is it instinct as close as one gets to the subconscious, underworld, underside of the psyche? The mind? Stuff of the Self?


There’s always something to be afraid of. More to fear than thought brought to mind.


Dark isn’t only for nights. It comes in clouds over sails. It comes to shirts mixed in sweat and rain. In will overcome with futility.


Crests fall as rain continues. A captain is not known for boosting confidence. Only for commanding emotions be set aside for necessity of task. For need of one and other intertwined in microcosm of a vessel alone at the whim of water and weather and life incapable of being anything other than what they are – untamed but built for the life being lived. Ready only for instinct and adapting as seamlessly as it seems to outsiders. Observers.