Categories
poetry

The Ship

RMS Titanic 1912

Sailed for the new lands, another
waved off from the pier
never able to get this close
but now, with dwindling crowds
can nearly push away with your hands

Shouted “good luck” to our brother,
his girls and the twins, turning away,
thinking just of adventure, anticipation
every breath, streets paved with the new,
exciting rhythms, to the virgin ears unheard
every corner a different verse
competes for attention, as patterns
scattered across the lands
notes of reason, no rhyme
unsettled, more than this,
same old, same old

Frustration, sometimes,
trapped crying like a child,
a pillow for a womb
a remark to heart?
you should bend, they say
even the trees wave
to the shifting tides, yet
for all this is, this is home

Can dress in a new coat, but
underneath, always, the same skin
revealing the roots, the way I should think,
the way I should speak
, should dye my hair, instead
all colours of the rainbow
show my truths to the world
same thoughts, different guise

Should dress, not in sombre clothes
as if prepared for my end,
but in bright, Friday night attire,
as if chasing new blood in the breeze, instead
respect of the dead, long forgotten

She asks quietly, and as always
“maybe I’ll leave, one day, but not yet,
there’s life in the old sea,”
and better the devils you know..

If you’d like to find out a bit more about this poem, click the link to the page “Explained” which shines a light on the background to each poem, or helps you to understand what the heck’s going on if you’re a bit baffled!

By cyncoed

Old & Welsh

2 replies on “The Ship”

Beautiful. The idea of a poem being a picture is resonates with me… I have never been able to explain it so well.
Like lyrics to songs (which are like poems to me) each time I hear them, I grab a new meaning from the words.
The time plays a massive role in how the meaning falls.
Thanks for sharing your gift.

Liked by 1 person

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