Treasure Island

John Courtney

(05-22-1982 / Philadelphia)

Searobin Cleaning 101

some were built like ships,
resilient marvels of buoyancy, tough as solitude
with bellies scraped along a converse globe,
an olive fog followed by a pair of eyes,
a pair of ears knowing every song the gulls could sing,

they would sail forever,
but for our law that shuts them off,
sinking flags in sad procession,
they rot along a jaw of shoreline,
warriors of life honored by the rust of time,

those ships become a pair of hands,
de-boarding spirits in a puzzled breeze,
they push strollers into swings,
and count years by skipping rope,
candles hissed into every kitchen wallpaper,

fresh adventure
on a bicycle's frame
cannot return

most will
vanish in waves

around ships
who dig alone

Submitted: Tuesday, May 07, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Searobin Cleaning 101 by John Courtney )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou Updates

New Poems

  1. SERIOUSLY, Mae Ethan
  2. I stop the waves, Mark Heathcote
  3. I Wake Up, Katy Rotundo
  4. Kira I Care, Michael McParland
  5. Random, Kasey Jessie
  6. The poet Is Tired, Tony Adah
  7. Making Up!, Denis Martindale
  8. I Will Never Be You, Katy Rotundo
  9. True Love, Michael McParland
  10. The Thief, Tony Adah

Poem of the Day

poet Helen Hunt Jackson

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
...... Read complete »

[Hata Bildir]