Nights Before the Mast
(Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea)
For all the alcoholics and those who ride herd on them...
In the dark of the night when the bottle is done
And the voices are calling aloud
Disaster is nigh, the wind’s risen high
And it screams amongst the shrouds.
You cast off your mooring and take to the helm
Determined to sail all night.
Though the devil’s to pay, I can’t make you stay
And I can’t let you out of my sight.
I cast reason away and enter the fray,
Your knife in my teeth for safe keeping,
We are both lost and destined to drown,
But fighting is better than weeping.
You for the waters of madness,
Me for the safety of shore.
We fight for the rudder as sirens sing murder
Whatever the cost, you want more.
Half a captain and a full mutineer
Full speed in a following sea.
The black wind’s behind us and no one can find us.
Sing Ho! for the wide open sea!
Long before the first light shines
I feel myself losing my wits
This dawn is too red and I long for my bed
For I am too old to play pirates
Your mind is as blank as the eye of a storm
As I bring this old boat in to shore.
But when the dawn breaks and you blunder awake
You’ll beg to set sail once more.
No matter where we come to rest
No matter how battered we be
You won’t recall anything at all
So Ho! For the wide open sea.
Sing Ho! For the wide open sea!
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Comments: 25
Trying to keep a drunk and his/her vehicle separated, is indeed a challenge not for the faint of heart.
We are both lost and destined to drown,
But fighting is better than weeping.
You for the waters of madness,
Me for the safety of shore.
We fight for the rudder as sirens sing murder
Whatever the cost, you want more.
As a pretend poet, I often wonder how "real" poets create their best works. And do they know when a particular work is destined for greatness? I can't even figure out how they know when a work is finished! I was looking for one little ditty that I first dashed onto paper over 5 years ago, and I'm still thinking of ways to refine it now! (I never found it... it must be on some backup disk somewhere.)
And then I worry about over analyzing a poem... when I get an idea it springs forth so readily, and I hate to constrain that by forcing it into some particular form. It always feels as though I'm taking the inspir-ation and manhandling it into suffo-cation.
The bottom line is that your notion of "rocky" is pretty far beyond my notion of "that's where I'll stop."
This reminds me of the Oysterband's song Drunkard's Waltz. Would you consider sending this to The Surreal Circus? I'd love to feature it.
And thanks everyone,
Color me Mystified?
Sarah
We are both lost and destined to drown,
But fighting is better than weeping.
You for the waters of madness,
Me for the safety of shore.
We fight for the rudder as sirens sing murder
Whatever the cost, you want more.
And then,
But when the dawn breaks and you blunder awake
You’ll beg to set sail once more.
Great lines - such a rhythmic feeling to the poem and, accidentally or not, the choice to use iambic pentameter, as well as the sailing metaphor, is brilliant! A feeling of sailing over waves and rolls of waves is evoked by the rhythm, so the actual body of the poem serves to give the reader the literal feeling of up and down, endless motion, evoking also the feeling of dancing - as the narrator and the drunkard go lock-step. Both use of the meter, the metaphor of a ship or boat on an ocean, and the visual images parallel each other. I think this is a particularly masterful poem. I'm really impressed. Love it, Sarah!
I was married to a drunk once
And I was drunk to save him.
My best lines always come to me complete. Then they whisper in my ear until I make them a poem to fit into. Making them fit can be a long process. And then I have to listen to the voice in my other ear, my poetry teacher saying "Kill your darlings" - sometimes you have to let go of what you loved most.
because I drank it.