Sunday, December 2, 2012

Since I am too lazy to finish a post about Bounty, and begin a post about my short lived career with American Cruise Lines here is a poem.

Do you live here?
Yes I live here,
I eat here,
I sleep here,
I work here,
I worship here.

I worship my God here,
The god of my strength,
Your strength,
His strength,
Her strength,
Our strength.

There is nothing else but here and
I spend each day fatefully pondering what,
What will come next.

I laugh and roar for the joy of it
And weep, bitter hearted and disconsolate
For the grief of it.
Ultimate high,
Ultimate low.

On and on it goes forever,
One to the next, and the next,
And the next, and the next.

What is the next? The next?
Or simply another, and another and another?
I hate it, I love it, I loathe it, I can’t live without it.

Over and over, under and over, over and under.
Under the fighting top,
Across the fuddocks,
Onto the fighting top,
Into oblivion.

Do you live here?
Yes I live here.
I live here and die here, I die here and live here.
My loved ones die a little bit while I live here,
I die a little bit as my loved ones live elsewhere.

I die here a little bit each day as I live here.
Roaring for joy, sobbing for sadness.
It is the same as everywhere else and different from everywhere else.
I am both trusted and distrusted,
I find meaning then lose it in a heartbeat to the
Triviality of bullshit hierarchy.

This is the antithesis of all you know.
Corporate schills find no place here,
Or so I thought, even the corporations serve a purpose if they keep me sailing.
The signal flags wave vainly in the breeze,
I climb to the hounds to lead thee.
All the dignitaries regard me as a novelty.
I am real, I am real, I am real.

I retreat inward and ponder as the rain roars all round me.
The deckhands line the windward rail clad in life jackets.
The deckhands prepare to die.
The deckhands seize one another’s hands.
The deckhands are my brothers and my sisters.
My mothers and fathers.
My lovers and my friends.
The  deckhands prepare to die the noble and savage death.
Smiling yet weeping.

We collapse, hot water succor of shore facilities.
A hard fight to get clear of here,
A clear fight to get hard in her.
Streaming, steaming, soapy lather bliss
At having survived another trick.

8 am beer breakfast and the
Sadness, sadness, sadness,
Judgment by the rigid others
As the buzz builds, beautiful, within my saddened self.
I cannot even summon the strength to go home, only to drink damned
By the circumstances of my life.
It ends.

The ride home, interminable,
Nothing to say, he is dying and we both know it.
I feel the waste of a half lived life leave, livid, lascivious, liquor,
Upon my breath, I breathe it out like a dragon.
There is no room for it in my soul today.

Over and over, the pad of small paws across
The floor of a home not quite any longer mine.
Shirtless collapse of a body pushed to the maximum.
No more room for the maintenance of my soul.
The soul perishes forevermore from inside of me so deep
That it can be seen upon my face that my inner girdings are forsaking me.

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