Captain Cur

Captain Cur Biography

Captain Cur
Captain of the Malevolent.
Profession, Pirate.

I took an oath that binds me to the sea;
I left behind all claims, all history,
bundled with my fears I carry them no more
from not the throat but from the plexus roar.
The storm has raged and now a pensive lull;
I string my flag, the crossbones and the skull,
the sun has set the world a golden hue
a spell is cast across the rising moon,
in her glow I rest in magic sleep,
the skies are charged, the world is in retreat.
I dream and wander deep within her source
to forbidden shores, onward is my course.

On Poetry,
Her passion's voice more meltingly composed
than liquid fire, soft words boiling over
too hot for flesh to bear; mesmerizing,
coming near, dancing slowly on her smile,
waltzing flames touching lips, sweat, desire;
in this age, in this time, I am to live
through the blaze, heart in hand, my love to give.

To the sea,
Guardian of my heart! I trust in thee,
enrich my soul and quell my boastful pride;
vastness surrounds me, beauty pure and wide
let these calm waters fill the days that be.
My Lord! My Protector! O! Faithful Sea!
One last journey, may faith become my guide;
my sails are drawn by cold relentless time
this path thou gives, this path thou giveth free
to teach man till a greater good is won.
May I not repent useless in my grave
or count my deeds when all amount to none
though flesh is weak I know the spirit brave;
admire not power or the lowest shun;
love gives me strength the weakest then to save!
In these bold waters I raise my arm to thee,
My Lord! My Protector! O! Faithful Sea!

On love,
Blossoming, a bed of roses dare I
pick just one, and encumber it in words
to compare its charm to her wakening eyes;
from my hand to hers
and leave its beauty in her charge.

On death,
I laid him down without wreath or flowers
And gave his body as the currents stream;
I said the words to our God the Father
Reuniting his spirit with the sea.
I cried out as if in some horrid dream
For with all my powers so still he laid,
shook him gentle as a child to waken,
but no breath he breathed! No! No breath he breathed!

By twilight in its transient haste, taken;
To the deepness of the darkening shade,
To the blackness of the voracious night,
Pallbearers guided by an unlit sun
Bringing him down to a cavernous grave
Where years are counted in chime less hours
And the grains of sand in the glass are stalled,
Where greenness of the earth is planted under
In depths to deep to feel the giving rain
Just rumblings of the lightless thunder.

Welcome to the Captain's page!

Poetry translated from his encoded diary. The spirit of Captain Cur has commissioned this translator, with the help of the Captain's impish Muse, to give good account of his writings, loves and adventures. The problem is the Muse, who calls herself, 'Baharia Msichana' which means, sailor girl, but she prefers 'Pirate Girl' insists I write her love poems, which she will not allow me to publish, or she will not help me decipher his diary. Captain Cur inhabited this sphere sometime between the mid to late 1600's and possibly the early 1700's. His diary was heavily damaged after the wreck of the Malevolent, his exact date of death remains unknown. Allusions to his alter ego, " the beast" is heavily layered throughout his prose. His tales of adventure appear to encompass both the real and spectral world. The Captain's spirit continues to pen in his diary and has much to say about our modern age. It's complicated, but fun. So I hope you enjoy the voyage!

The Best Poem Of Captain Cur

Endless Blue! Endless Sea!

Endless blue! Endless sea!
Oh! Fluid pulse of eternity.
Here I set my distant sight
on the full moon's guiding light.

Through the shoals of discontent
and the rainbows spectrum bent
by the crystal water's glare
from sol's rising restive stare;

stalling winds and bruising rains;
lightening sparks on white tipped plains;
fire skies and thunders dread;
quivering sails on slender threads;

my ship waylaid, my soul reborn
on a tidal swell, in the coming storm.
Here I sing this lay to thee,
Endless blue! Endless sea!

I love you….. with;

pirate heart and pirate soul,
ocean's stillness, ocean's flow,
pirate fears on stormy nights,
wistful tears on points of light,

pirate shores and distant lands,
pirate's raw yet steadfast hands,
pirate falls, flowing streams,
secret caverns, jetting springs,

lapping waves round earthen bands,
pirate's pure white costal sands,
simple language, primal truth,
pirate age and pirate youth,

summer's myth and healing breeze,
towering glaciers boastful freeze,
autumn's soft low hanging moon
and her rays pale crescent swoon,

spring's new life, green island coves,
budding blooms and, a pirate rose!

At the end of days,
my pirate's grave,
in hardened mud
under snowy ice.

I loved you….. with

my pirate's blood,
my pirate's life.

Captain Cur Comments

Terry Craddock 05 May 2014

Rum Message In A Bottle Floating Sent Dead reckoning off an ancient sextant taking a fix on a bright likely star point, this be a current true tide accounting of how I do send messages to pirate Captain Cur; Ahyo at de wheel pirate Captain Cur how be ye old salty sea dog bones? be de wind brisk in de Malevolent sails cutting ocean run black stallion waves? thanks for ye barnacle writ lines matey poem cut on me fallen drunk John poem, let me know if ye sharp boon owed wish me to return penned tribute inked favour? but me poem would quill sand grit be written in rum for us both to savour, since last hearing rumour word from ye I has been off sailing salt seven seas, been stranded ship wrecked a bad broken time or two, tossed sudden violent about by turbulant stormy seas, weathered wind wave violent vicious exposed saline gales, survived to swim cast down tell me cursed wreck salty sad tales, been dark blood betrayed by deceitful cut throats, a few I let yardarm swing upon me course ropes, others I sharp sword point run off de plank, left drowning behind in rat judgement seas, after I bought them bound tied low to sentence judgement forced knees, so be de fate of us raw pirates bold, still so many salt stories to be told, fair ye well old salt Captain Cur may a fair wind be at ye steal back, a wide deep sea sail square ready to be wind caught roamed before ye, time for us sailing forth further adventures to treasure plunder, regards ye old salt sword mate Terenzio is off to reap steal fate Copyright © Terence George Craddock

5 1 Reply
Terry Craddock 09 May 2014

Salute Drink To Uncompromising Sea Ah Captain Cur twas fair pirate spoken take my token now blood cut bespoken for I be off tonight to crew toast bold our salt testimony 'Uncompromising Sea' 'a rum fueled, beer kegged, wine barreled' drought of poetry Captain Cur bequeathed to thee to me upon shores of stars eternity in truth I be off to swill rum ravish wine drink beer to wash it down with feast dine dance sing crappling coupling eternity time Copyright © Captain Cur and Terence George Craddock. Inspired by the poem 'Uncompromising Sea' by Captain Cur. Quoted title and quoted line by Captain Cur.

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Terry Craddock 09 May 2014

Malevolent Storms Unknown Seas uncompromising sea awaits in whispered river waves for black stallion to voyage forth further into unknown seas seeking gold jewels destinies Copyright © Terence George Craddock

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Doug Bentley 18 April 2013

This is a true accounting of how 'I' came to write the poem 'Somersault, ' and of Captain Cur's hand in it. The poem is a footnote to his 'Imagination Proclamation.' I couldn't sleep one night, so I went for a walk. I live near the ocean, so I walked upon the shore. A half-moon held up the star-soaked sky. I gazed into infinity. 'Do you have the time? ' A voice, startled, I turned. I thought I was alone. A woman sat upon a log, half hidden by the forest, half lit by the moon. 'I never wear a watch, ' I answered, 'Who are you? ' 'Do you live here? ' she asked. 'Do you? ' I asked. She swept a finger at the sea. I turned to it. A fog bank, fast moving, approached. 'Who are you? ' I asked her again. A lightning flash! The lady stood up. I noticed she was wrapped in a body shawl covered with bird feathers. 'BOOM! ! ! ' A cannon blast shattered the silence, the night and my ears. She, now dancing sprightly, hands upraised in delight, fairly flew toward the deeps. As she passed me, our eyes locked. Hers fathomless glowed dark with mystery; mine terrified and, I swear - for an instant, I saw her eyes flash lightning, too. 'Stop! Come back! ' I shouted. I wanted to keep her. But something held me frozen. I couldn't move, or breathe. She was soon beneath the waves. The fog, now suddenly luminous, within, I saw the outline of an ancient sailing ship. On deck stood the figure of a tall man, hands on hips, legs outstretched. An authority in this otherworld, he leaned down and held out his hand. From the waters a hand reached up to it. The man, effortlessly, lifted up and locked the hand of the mysterious dark lady whom I had met. They embraced, lovers unto death - and beyond. The fog darkened, dispersed. The night sky was clear again, sea waveless. The ship had vanished. My mind reeling, in a panic I stumbled back home. I bolted all the doors. Lights out, I hid myself in a corner, still trembling. Then, it happened. An unfamiliar candle upon my desk ignited. Gathering my wits, I crawled to my desk. Upon it, a scroll of yellowed, brittle parchment with these words, written in blood. 'we are no old-fashioned heroes who fight a blind dragon or two then retire into the forest to warn off others in stories just of how dragons are slain. we have only litanies of loss to demons who never die, who can never be killed, (only out- witted, pacified, subdued) : each of us a library of disease. and who recognizes us, the crazy ones who live life as if it's some sort of perfect dive- a tumbling off the high board into free fall, quick somersault, waveless arching exit through surface? Welcome Aboard, C.C.' And this is a true accounting of how I first met Captain Cur.

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Shahzia Batool 06 May 2013

Fiction, fancy, folk-lore, fairy-tales, fantasies...and a complete play of Imagination is what your poems are all about; yet i believe that life is full of many uncertainties that it likens to a myth; while existing in the modern age, there is an anachronistic feel about your world you offer in poems, in the upcoming years, when people will read it, they won't place it in 21st century poetry, rather an ageless and timeless work beyond the fever and fret of this mundane life...such a work which does not carry a label of one age is beyond the bounds of time and tide of's for all ages, all times and all what is imagination if bound in the time-limit?

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Sylvia Frances Chan 10 January 2022

Welcome again to CORONAL GLEE CAPTAIN CUR. We all miss YOU, dear Coronal Glee Captain Cur

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Sylvia Frances Chan 10 January 2022

TODSAY yoiu are chosen by our PH Editors as The Poet Of The Day. Please, don't miss this, this is only for ONE day (and night) Hoorray! For my dearest friend, the gone-away CC

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Sylvia Frances Chan 10 January 2022

I cite your first lines in your Bio: Captain Cur Captain of the Malevolent. Profession, Pirate. I took an oath that binds me to the sea; I left behind all claims, all history,

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Kumarmani Mahakul 30 September 2018

Along with this following acrostic poem on behalf of all poets, Poem Hunter Family and our Mahakul family a title of honour is offered to poet Captain Cur as, Coronal Glee, . From today on-wards he will be known as Coronal Glee Captain Cur. We hope all poets and visitors will accept this.

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Kumarmani Mahakul 21 September 2018

Captain Cur - Poem by Kumarmani Mahakul Capability of poetic art is very high, Astounding personality motivates others, Progress is his art in core of continuity, Thoughtfulness we witness within him, Apostrophizing lines he writes nice poems, Intelligent poet he is, he motivates many, Nobility of personality is reflected well. Continuing writing he never gets tired, Utility is art of social resources we learn, Reviving human values he smiles in joy.

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