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Passions in Poetry

Shipwrecked

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jjote
Senior Member
since 12-25-2002
Posts 993
Ontario, Canada


0 posted 02-02-2017 03:03 PM       View Profile for jjote   Email jjote   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for jjote

commercial photography locations
[an abandoned shipwreck somewhere at a lakeshore in Canada left for strollers to view]

I shall begin this tale with a storyteller's flair
take out my flute to play a soft seductive tune
between pauses, as I recall my journey.

Facing the unknown does not frighten me
unchartered waters are a challenge not to ignore
lure me like a siren, or filings to a magnet.

I am not an old god, doomed to search the world
on a quest for an elusive Seven Cities of Gold
excitement runs red in my blood, vivid as a wound.

I chase mountains as they loom enticing ahead
sometimes they fade like mirages in summer sun
so I drop anchors unfazed in strange lands.

After the rains, thick stars scud the summer sky
I could gaze at them forever in the moist darkness
leave the world, getting off it with not a look behind.

Can this be love - an insanity which is willing
to risk everything for what turns out to be
a colossal mental illusion - be shipwrecked at sea.


@jjote 02/02/2017
© Copyright 2017 Josefina Costales - All Rights Reserved
JerryPat2
Member Laureate
since 02-06-2011
Posts 15559
South Louisiana


1 posted 02-02-2017 05:17 PM       View Profile for JerryPat2   Email JerryPat2   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit JerryPat2's Home Page   View IP for JerryPat2

You've got it, jjote, love is insanity to the nth. I have to believe that the "shipwrecked" loves far, far outnumber those that make it into old age still in "love." Eh, doesn't seem to stop us from trying though. Time and time and time . . . again

~ If they give you ruled paper, write sideways. ~
Bluesy Socrateaser
Senior Member
since 11-07-2002
Posts 591
In The Mirror


2 posted 02-03-2017 02:45 AM       View Profile for Bluesy Socrateaser   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Bluesy Socrateaser

It was a hard, unpredictable life on the sea, to be sure. As a metaphor, love can still be a hard, unpredictable journey. But like the hardiness of those sailors of old, we take the rolls with the calm and do our best to stay the course with our sails to full.

...just bein' Bluesy

 
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