pirate

Queen Ann's Revenge

Walk the fucking plank bitch;

this is my fucking pirate ship

 

I run it how I want;

I take orders from myself

 

I'm the fucking captain;

not you,

 

Take your stank ass

self somewhere else

 

Hoe

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tags:

Buccaneer

Sea of black, what is it you hide? 
Please tell me your secrets in me, please confide. 
  
On deck of the ship, blue moon in the sky, 
Into your heavy dark waves I peer and I pry. 
  
You conceal many things,  so pardon the brusque , 
I have some questions I  would like to discuss 
...thus...

I ask of you this mighty watery force,  
reveal to me please these things in due course : 
  
Tell me about how they were saved from the deluge, 
In the Ark a family protected in refuge. 
  
Or where lay the Isle of Greek titan Atlas. 
A land consumed by your eternal cold blackness. 
  
Share with me jewels and cursed pirate gold. 
Spoils in your clutches you so preciously hold. 
  
Of sunken ships and scattered bones. 
Failed quests to glory forgotten kings thrones. 
  
What monsters you hide in the dark of your deep? 
Things of nightmare that make grown men wake from their sleep? 
  
Reveal these things, so that I return a wealthier man,

Gold in pocket shilling in hand. 

With magical tales of faraway places. 
Lost secrets that lurk in your fathomless spaces. 

At night  these things to my children I'll tell, 
And a love of adventure will be cast,

Like a spell. 

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Pirate Curse

 

Nair rest the mind eye: trappings 
ensnarement in blindnesse die 
a dialogue here within
read beyond

 Oh when the winds change 
direction no one'evr  knows
the future of the story to unfold
insidious wickednesse or mutiny
n'er retreat but eye for eye

the humble boots man tread 
on the land once fed by the 
treasure gold and blood of red
fortune to be made or lost never
to return

Aye the cheats to fire and burn 
matt'r nought he be on land or sea
may be strick'n wrought with 
treacherie 

Oh damnedest soul of griefe and 
tainted swive 
Beshackle to thee Miss Fortune 
as ye bride.
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Sail

Folder: 
Poems

The ship sways but I pay no mind

from Trinidad to Cuba...

We sing songs and shanties,

but time just expands...

Like the cold water beneath our boots.

My mates will think of Anne Bonny

but I walways dream of mermaids...

Oh, how it would be...

To swim alive in Davy Jone's locker.

Her and I would have a goats jig,

and I would arise to the surface,

with a large toothless grin...

I would fire my mortars into the air,

and when the night closed in,

me and my hearties would celebrate...

By plundering vast ships,

and counting our loot.

Our prisioners in shackels

and our enemys as shark bait.

I will sail the Caribbean,

sea to bloody sea.

With flintlock in hand,

a pirates life for me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

September 15th, 2014

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