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Literature Text
Captain of My Ship:
By Robin Nederlof.
Sometimes I just float and think.
How could I ever fall so low?
To the bottom my ship will sink.
How much further can I possibly go?
I try to abandon, but it's too late.
Water slowly invades my mouth.
This is meant to be, it's called fate.
Crumbling wood, it sounds so loud.
When I hit rock bottom, what will I feel?
Maybe sadness, loneliness, emptiness or pain.
I guess it's a place that's quite surreal.
Where all of these feelings are the same.
So far, there was always a lifeline.
And even that line will come to an end.
I always said that I would be fine.
But in fact it was never what I meant.
Perhaps, one more time, once more.
You will see me fight and stand tall.
Reaching land, setting foot on shore.
Where once again, I will feel so small.
Coughing up water with a salty taste.
Slowly the light will return to my eyes.
To start again with something to waste.
Breathing new air, breathing new lies.
When my ship is restored and I am sailing again.
I hear the sound of cannon fire coming my way.
Maybe it's my fault, maybe I just don't fit into this plan.
It's the same dilemma, abandon the ship or stay?
For once I should try to flee.
And stop being such a wise guy.
To try something different than the open sea.
Which is too good in swallowing small fry.
I will not load my guns and put all defenses down.
They will be able to enter my boat.
I will not set traps and lower my crown.
So they can realize there is nothing to loathe.
Perhaps then I can put both of my feet on land.
The wind will be blowing another way.
As I move freely through the sand.
In the harbor my ship will stay.
By Robin Nederlof.
Sometimes I just float and think.
How could I ever fall so low?
To the bottom my ship will sink.
How much further can I possibly go?
I try to abandon, but it's too late.
Water slowly invades my mouth.
This is meant to be, it's called fate.
Crumbling wood, it sounds so loud.
When I hit rock bottom, what will I feel?
Maybe sadness, loneliness, emptiness or pain.
I guess it's a place that's quite surreal.
Where all of these feelings are the same.
So far, there was always a lifeline.
And even that line will come to an end.
I always said that I would be fine.
But in fact it was never what I meant.
Perhaps, one more time, once more.
You will see me fight and stand tall.
Reaching land, setting foot on shore.
Where once again, I will feel so small.
Coughing up water with a salty taste.
Slowly the light will return to my eyes.
To start again with something to waste.
Breathing new air, breathing new lies.
When my ship is restored and I am sailing again.
I hear the sound of cannon fire coming my way.
Maybe it's my fault, maybe I just don't fit into this plan.
It's the same dilemma, abandon the ship or stay?
For once I should try to flee.
And stop being such a wise guy.
To try something different than the open sea.
Which is too good in swallowing small fry.
I will not load my guns and put all defenses down.
They will be able to enter my boat.
I will not set traps and lower my crown.
So they can realize there is nothing to loathe.
Perhaps then I can put both of my feet on land.
The wind will be blowing another way.
As I move freely through the sand.
In the harbor my ship will stay.
Literature
One for Dad
I was back in the house where I could feel the melancholy
of the lonesome, crowded west.
The same house but all the memories seemed so far away.
The smell of fresh paint hung heavy in the air,
and the walls I had once scratched and dented were bare.
A film of neglect clung to the books he never let me touch,
“Always end up damaged.” he’d say.
Not realising that love changes things,
makes friendships stronger, give things sentiment.
Those worn covers and creased pages,
not a sign of carelessness but a sign of greatest care.
There were the bottles of wisdom placed in the cellar,
full of learning, but paling to the lesso
Literature
mother
mother with whistle, button and mace
drops her weapons to the hospital floor
and screams.
father rejoices - a princess! i'll teach her
everything.
mother still screams.
father, laughing - i pity the boy who asks for her hand.
mother holds baby and shrieks.
father's skin crawls - why aren't you happy?
mother screams. mother howls. mother, inconsolable
(everyone dies but girls are always
born dead)
Literature
Father
She must have been
beautiful
sugar sweet
perfect
as you dressed her in innocence.
I'm sure her hair smelled of better times
and her eyes tugged at your conscience
and promised worlds
that made yours seem tragically thin.
And you were ...
weak
Now tell me, (father)
what broke your heart?
To find out you were the perfect liar?
Or to speak that ugly truth
that smashed everything
to blood-drawing shards of memories?
Because I don't need
your second-hand love
anymore.
I know, one day
you will contemplate gravity's fragilty
and fall into the sky
while we lie sleepless through nights gone hollow
with a bullet for the pain
an
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This poem is confusing me, haha...
© 2012 - 2024 Robino
Comments5
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Great job portraying and conveying feelings and emotion through allegoric imagery... sadness, despair, self-doubt, perhaps a bit of guilt, and finally, resolution... it's quite a trip this poem paints!