where to poem
A ship at sea, submissive to the mercy, will and temperament of the deluging heavens, surmises a defiant course in the face of overwhelming obstacle. Among the contours of the icy, boiling water there is no reprieve.
A metaphor in tribute to the throes of daily living, are we but cast about in the illusion of direction, as we encircle the maelstrom that should suck us under?
As rag dolls, we are merely docile creatures of potential. And though the machinations of the daily grind are so entrenching, we envision our vessels forthbound.
The only choice in the matter pertains to your crew and who’s in charge. Those you invite to navigate the wayward journey with you are thus of the most vital importance.
A vessel alone, that now upon whence there is only a chance should the mainstay prevail
Whose faculty, fortune and virtue attend now to challenge the peril, so as to curtail
A monstrously wicked, miscreant delinquent; the sea an assailant that brooks no avail.
And yet
I like it to be on the deck so that when I should fall,
With allies I’ll be as we fight for the health of the whole.
To live or let die is all well in the end should have all gave their all;
What’s now is no matter if long live the soul.
toxic, quixotic 