A Wink From Her To Get My Heart A-Revving

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A wink from her to get my heart a-revving
Her pink negligee hanging below her knee
Soft skin turns into hardened intentions
The promise of a night of debauchery
A bouquet not desired, but a single bloom
Visions of adulation thoroughly taut
I’m rigidly attuned with her frequency
A fine suited man removing a Windsor knot
Fastened to my bedpost; a sailor can surely tie
Settling down with this libertine, methinks
A pretty picture of a delicious woman
Purely polished reflections in my cufflinks
Post coital; passion overflowing this room
Perfection amid people imperfectly real
Precious moments that I’ll never forsake
My woman’s love, allowing me to constantly heal

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Sailing Out On The Good Ship

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Sailing out on the good ship
Prevailing winds ensuring a clear path
Foregoing the unexplained existence
Forging headlong into nature’s wrath
Arctic waters surrounding our view
Diligent sailors crewing this steel boat
Perpetually longing for a illusive home
But buoyed by a dedication keeping us afloat

Sailing To The Land Of The Norse

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Roaming free, since empires first ruled the sea
Our little ship buoyed upon the rising crests
Cutting through the waters, making our way
The burden of duty, we have silently acquiesced

Sailing to the land of the Norse
Braving storms that blew & blew
Surviving the ocean’s force
For I’m one of the salty crew

Cautious of what lies beyond this foggy morn
The natural world; the root of crashing waves
Taking in the sight of snow covered mountains
Norse myths & a foreboding weakness we stave

Sailing to the land of the Norse
Braving storms that blew & blew
Surviving the ocean’s force
For I’m one of the salty crew

Now aloft; climbing the mast for a clearer view
Ice, snow & haze coming out of this Northern gale
Secrets of this land & now we’re in its frigid grip
Push furthermore, we have no option to fail

Sailing to the land of the Norse
Braving storms that blew & blew
Surviving the ocean’s force
For I’m one of the salty crew

Waking Up Before All The Roosters

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Waking up before all the roosters
With a black coffee in my hand
Carrying dreams & fears onboard
Somehow those rails have to be manned
I don’t know if heroes still exist
But that’s definitely not me
I’m just a lowly sailor
Who’s penitence is to sail the sea

Poseur Punks Stealing My Traditions

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Poseur punks stealing my traditions

Though they never earned the right

You cannot reappropriate a feeling

They’ve never been adrift under a starry night

These kids’ empty hearts & endless expectations

I left the sweat of my brow upon the sea

With too many of my nights away from home

In an entitled world; duty means a lot to me

Thousand Yard Stare

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It was dark out on the flight deck. The stars and moon not visable tonight. The hum of the Diesel engines mixed with the lapping of the waves. The rest of the guys were inside playing cards. He was sitting on a bullnose, where the mooring lines enter the ship.

He was dirty. The overall grime of shipboard life had taken its toll on his uniform, exposed flesh and general psyche. At this point of the deployment, his blue ‘digital’ camouflage pants were were out of regulations. They had rips, paint splatter and grease stains. No one gave him flack about it. There was no time to focus on those aspects or the means to replace uniforms. It was not important at this point. There was a mission at hand. The priorities were to do your job correctly the first time. Crisp new uniforms would not help you succeed out here. There is a feeling among sailors that those who had time to polish their boots did not have a real job. Admin types and supply personnel usually were the ones with nice looking boots.
“Smitty, you okay man?”
“I’m cool”
“You got that 1,000 yard stare going.”
“Naw, I’m just thinking. I’m fucking tired man”
“Me too.”
“I just want to go home. This shit sucks.”
“I know, I don’t even want to get off the boat in port.”
“Right? Let’s just go back, cut all this short.”
“Wish we could, man. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I’m cool. I’m gonna go to bed soon.”
“All right man, don’t be grabbing chains and jumping off the side.” They both smiled. “We’re laughing, but seriously. It’s not that bad. We’ll be home soon enough.”
“I know, thanks man.”
They went their separate ways. Smitty returned his gaze back out on the water.
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A Lady Upon The Figurehead

A  lady upon the figurehead
Standing proud in the breeze
Calling to the Sirens & wenches
Knowing the truth of these seas
Her beauty remaining firm & intact
The ship around her orange with rust
The sailors with splinters in their palms
For she has a wooden bust

You Don’t See It

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You don’t see it
The boys not getting enough sleep
Those who have abandoned their homes
Keeping watch over the watery deep
You don’t see it
Those who dream of something better
Youth sacrificing blindly
Riding the tide, salt spray getting wetter
You don’t see it
Loading sea bags in early morning hours
Walking the gangplank in the face of fear
Trusting their lives to a Greater Power

*This is dedicated to the boys & girls who voluntarily leave the comfort of a normal life to do something different. We all have our reasons for why we’re here. I humbly thank those who have come before me, those standing next to me and those who will carry on the watch after my time is complete.

I’m A Reluctant Sailor At Best

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I’m a reluctant sailor at best
Life on the seas – a mere charade
A pirate’s life hasn’t panned out
Reflecting poor choices once made
But now I must focus on the task
Secrets of love hidden within the tome
Writing out the heart’s silent pain
It’s all I can do until I arrive home