What Was Your Deepest Dream

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What was your deepest dream

I’ll be out writing sea shanties

What did you want most of all

Leaving me your delicious panties

I’m open to any of your secret kinks

No need to worry, for I won’t judge

Interested in exploring your depths

I’m here to stay, for I won’t budge

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.

Last Night She Wore Garters

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Last night she wore garters
In spite of our fates, we were free
I brought wine redder than her lips
Wearing only a crucifix & a church key
We were intoxicatingly in love
I’ve sailed all the seas, always to return
There’s no other to own my heart
She’s the only one for whom I’ll ever yearn

Running Headlong Into Winter

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Running headlong into Winter
The cold air forced inside my lungs
Stopping abruptly at the end of the dock
Arms out, catching a snowflake on my tongue
I ran out of land again
Isolated out here with my soul about to freeze
There’s no place left to escape
Shanghai’d again! My fate lies on the high seas

The Calendar Denies It

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The calendar denies it
But on the beach it’s still Summer
Endless in this wretched heat
& all this chafing is a real bummer
So I have a better way to spend our days
Here’s another drink for your sunny attitude
Please hold mine as I dislodge my clothing
Do as you like, but I’m going to wade out in the nude