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Phil Charters

Rookie (11/05/1958 / Australia)

Born Out Of time

Down, down
In a trough of despair
Eyes glazed, open
With ne’er a care
Dreaming, scheming
His soul not at home
Windjamming days
An ocean to roam
Gallant, yet crude
The sailor, the ship
One checked by the wind
The other, the whip
Longing for solace
In the arms of a wench
Breaking her heart
Her blue eyes do drench
With tears, so long
Forever, no more
He’ll lust her or love her,
He sails, a far distant shore
Where musket and cutlass,
Keep the natives at bay
His wit and his guile
His bravery holds sway
Defended admirably
The captain relieved
Rewards him, a girl
Big bosomed, beautiful
To partake of his seed
Lust rides motion,
A lifetime at sea
Excitement or love,
Ever so near
Over the next wave,
To live or to die
But n’er a slave.
Always a story
Be it true or a tale
Escaping from savages,
Sunk by a whale
Exotic, erotic,
Does it matter at all?
When memories like shards,
Scatter and fall,
Through eyes despairing,
Riven from soul,
Piercing flesh, a moment
Tapping the keyboard,
Born out of time.

Submitted: Thursday, April 02, 2009

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