Wednesday, December 16, 2015

So, this is very much related to my experience on Niagara and how I now evaluate mates.

What can I say, mates are an unfortunate
Fact of boat life.

I’ve worked with many
And in large part,
They are absolute shit.

Imagine the worst boss you
Have ever had.
Now imagine that at the end of the
Workday he drives your car home
And sleeps in your house.
You see the problem here.

You are never quite free of the mate on a boat.

Mates divide neatly into
Two categories of incompetence
And poor leadership.

One.) Academy Brats, mostly recipients of
Small vessel operations degrees from a plethora
Of maritime academies.
They know how to steer a boat (mostly)
But have no grasp of what is entailed in
Working on the deck of a boat (entirely)
Academy brats are the more innocuous
Variety as their inability to properly tie
A square knot is amusing (here’s looking at
You Maine Maritime) and they are slightly
More personable than hawse pipers.
Last hitch I discovered that one of our
Academy brats thought you could store jugs
Of orange juice in the pantry unrefrigerated.
You can’t make this shit up folks.

Two.) Hawse Pipers, I.E. Mates who worked their way up
From deckhand positions.
They know how to steer a boat (mostly)
And have a solid grasp of what is entailed
In working on deck (Mostly)
Hawse Pipers can be, and often are, as illiterate and
Ignorant as deckhands, meaning that they have all the
Personality and charm of a wet fart fired into my morning
Coffee, another turd elevated to a position of power.
What could go wrong? How are these people in charge of me?
They spend the majority of their time telling deckhands
How much better they were on deck in their day
And how much worse they had it.
The nautical equivalent of your dads “I walked uphill
Both ways to school, and it was always winter, and I had
Only bread bags for shoes.” And, Just like dad’s story,
It’s all bullshit.
One of our hawse pipe mates in particular loves to talk
About how we deckhands these days don’t have any
Pride in anything we do anymore.
He must weigh three hundred pounds, I find that ironic.
The man turned what could have been a perfectly tuned
Ferrari into the smoking aftermath of a demolition derby.
And still you comment on how we don’t have pride in anything.

You destroyed the physical vessel in which your worthless
Spirit must reside for all of your days on this earth.
Don’t you dare presume to speak to me on pride.
My name literally means it, and compared to you my body
Shows it.

In six years working on boats
I’ve known only two good mates.
Authoritative, fair, personable, kind,
Reasonable, compassionate, competent, and professional.
Through these traits and their refusal to project their bad treatment
As deckhands onto to their crew they showed me what to be when
I become a mate.

Someday we will break the cycle.

P.S. It's not that hard to become one of you.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

What I Know
The other day you told me
That I knew everything and
That you loved it.

I think it was because I knew
That Iranians speak Farsi and are
Not considered an Arab People.

I think this came up because
We were discussing the nationality
Of Khalil Gibran. (He was Lebanese in case
You didn’t know. I didn’t.)

Yes I know a lot of things,
But foremost amongst these things
That I know is that despite all of them
I don’t know that much.

Largely I’ve absorbed things
That much cleverer people than I
Have figured out originally, before
The age of google.
Not particularly flattering to myself
I know, but it’s a huge timesaver.

Regardless of my semi smart status
In this simian society I’m glad that you
Like that I know things. I’m glad you
Know things too.

Right now, paddling languidly about
On this freighter off the coast of Milwaukee
Here is what I know.

I know that I like the way your hair smells
And the way your lips taste.

I know that despite this I don’t
Know you that well.

I know that I want to get
To know you better.

I know that this job makes
Having a ground presence with the
People and things that are important
To you harder than it should be.

I know that this sucks.

I know I can take it.

I know I will be home again soon.

I know that no matter how distant,
My friends and family will be
There when I get back.

I know that I will always come back.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

So, I'm using my mobile hotspot to upload this from Lake Michigan.

It's rough but I had fun with it.

 After 32 days on the lakes
Im gonna come off this motherfucker
Like a wild eyed whirlwind.

I’ve got 32 days worth of
Living to do and only 14
Days to do it in.
My ships come in so
You better get on board
Or get out of the way.

I want to run through these woods
Feeling the soft green brown things
Under my boot soles and feet.
No more steel or concrete.

I’m just a straight shooting
Coyote chasing
Fish getttin, ill rhyme spitting
Cracker ass son of bitch and I am here to
Show you that none of this is synonymous
With bigot, or racist, but how to say it?

Let me consult the sky.
I follow the movement waiting for the
Crack, the split, the aperture, the opening.
Yes! Show me, bathe me in the immaculate
Light that I might share your beauty and might.

As I wait I think about how tired I have
Grown of being portrayed as a beast.
I am not a savage force to be controlled
I am love to be unleashed.
WAIT! The light! The light!
There it is!

 We are universally applicable,
Fully upgradable,
Totally limitless beings whose true nature is love.

Difference and alienation are only created
Innovated by those wishing us to remain divided
Separated from the whole, the love, the peace
That is our birthright.

Thank You.

On the way out of the woods
I decided to go home and lose my mind
And by mind I mean something that
Is not mine.

Seeking stillness to
Rid myself of the film,
The filth, the sediment
Obscuring the third eye lense.

Not mine but theirs,
Impure, unnecessary, malignant,
Obfuscating my perspective
Of this wholly subjective.
The stiller I become
The closer to the achievement
Of the objective.


Give me peace in stillness
Lift me from the illusion
Unleash me from the bullshit

Bring me to conclusion.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

So it's been a while. Don't know what to call this yet.
As usual, this has been edited very little if any.
The reading tempo should be quick.

She reminded me that there are
Beautiful women out there and
Finding them is as simple as saying
Would like to meet me for drinks
At molly’s at seven thirty?

She also reminded me that
You have to piss with the peeter
God gave you and sometimes that
Is not a peeter at all.

Have I introduced you to my St. Peter?

He watches over my pearly gates.

I’ve pushed more peeter more sweeter
More completer than any peeter pusher
You ever met, fuck all those other guys,

James the Elder
James the Younger
Simon and

I met you for the new Bond flick
At 6:15, I was late on account of the state
Of my hair, intransigent.

It said Fuck you Jeremy and your
Plans for making me look nice.
I am tired of remaining smashed
Under a hard hat unseen.

Unseen I wish I could have remained
As I said hello to that red bearded spectre
From my past while he stood in the movie
Theatre mens room peeter in hand.

I’ve got to hand it to you red beard,
You’ve improved, I talked a lot of shit
But I always thought you had the potential
To be the third good mate, sounds like
You’re close.

Close, get close, don’t the blue eyes
Scare you off, logically you know she wants the
Lip to lip, hence all the exploratory arm touch
Awkward close posture rigamorol.

When lips hit lips I let the thought quit.
Feels good, feels nice, do it again,
Once, twice, thrice until the credits roll
Then get it back under control
Out of the darkness, into the light.

Let the door slam on Hope
Then talk awkwardly for a second
Re-inviting her presence into your life
With Sydnee as bystander to the social samba.

After the drive back you awkwardly
Debated what should happen next and
Bravely decided to invite me in.
I’m glad because that means I got to
Watch that thing wiggle up the steps.
What a monument to the skill of the immortal
Architect, heart shaped, plump, ivory, pliable
Marble masterpiece.
(yes this line is about your ass.)

At the top you remarked on how hard I was to reach,
Too tall for easy access, don’t worry, I’ll come to
I want this too.

On the couch you remark on how it makes
You slouch, but no matter I just want to lean in
And get close.

The ladies at work say no no no this
Can’t work, watch out for sailors, they’re
Trouble and he might be gay. But you checked
With my St. Peter and he is totally buying
The gospel you be preaching.

Thus instigated my hands get motivated
But you stopped me and stated, I’m not
Going to fuck you. I don’t miss a beat
Saying I’m not going to fuck you either
And it takes two to tango.

Those that fuck on the second date
Are either heart breakers or get heart broken
And there is something wrong with both
Until now unspoken.
Lack of love for self or love for others
And we have neither.

And now despite that ass too much time
Has passed and I must leave you in the
Grace and mercy of our lord.
Please excuse the popcorn that fell on the floor.

Some would say this poem is over
But I think there is always more.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


Cultivate a strong mental attitude.

The framework of a citadel,
A keep, a fortress.

Make your inner serenity
So imperturbable as to
Silence the white noise
Empty drone of this world.

The empty products.
The empty jobs.
The empty people.

With enough dedication
And proper decisions
At the hard places.
At the broken places.
At the poignant places of
Great sadness and loneliness
Only the good,
The noble,
The uplifting,
The loyal,
The long suffering,
And the righteous,
Will ever be permitted to enter

Monday, April 20, 2015

Not A Bluebird      4/20/2015

There is not a blue bird
but a dragon in my heart.
And no matter how I try
he comes out when he likes,

He shows others his
blackness and rage
and drives them away.

No matter my effort
I cannot keep him within
and the cost is more than I
can bear.

It costs in loss the dragon.
Loss of all the people and things
I love.
he takes it all.

Though not a Bluebird,
he weeps like one.

But I dont weep.

Do you?

Monday, April 13, 2015


Most of all I will remember
the GIANT stinking shit you dropped,
Which clogged the toilet.

You left if there for me to clean up.


So I suppose that freedom
Unbidden or not,
Is always a blessing.


My body cannot be slain by wheat...

Sunday, April 12, 2015

heart upon firing line

What do I feel?
Can even the wordsmith
ply his craft cleverly
enough to describe this?

I imagine this is what
it feels like to be shot
center mass, point blank,
emotional ten ring.

Savage, penetrating trauma,
liquefying the innermost reaches
of all that was once so bright,
and full of hope, love, tenderness.

The remnant expelled
with brutal disregard
upon the walls of this home
which was once ours.

All that remains in your wake,
effluvial portrait of heartbreak
on cold white.