Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Poem: "Captain Holmes' Nightmare"

Into the grip
Of the shrieking storm,
I steer my limping ship.
Better to die
With head held high,
Rather than safe and warm.
Lashed to the wheel
Which rules my fate,
I bring the ship to heel.
Sirens keen my Christian name,
Demand dresses and china plate;
My only dream is fame.
No albatross hangs round my neck;
I fear not Davy Jones;
Yet as I sway with the tear-slick deck,
I hear the sepulchral tones
Of wedding bells
Crying “Mrs. and Captain Holmes!”

*   *   *   *   *   *

Captain Holmes' nightmare is more or less the opposite of mine. I'm terrified of dying alone and unloved. I mean, logically I know that everyone dies alone, more or less. But that doesn't make the night terrors of "no one will ever love me I'm a terrible person I can't understand other people everyone hates me" any easier to deal with. So yeah. Also, the rhyme scheme in this is brutal, and not in a good way. I still have no clue how I came up with the pattern. It's this weird interlocking deal and makes no sense to me when I look at it now. Which is how most of my poetry and writing works in the long run.