THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS
Drunken wise sailors have told me that I need to know stars to navigate. Those floating lost at sea have no need of night lights to tell them what is destined; they are surrounded by reality. They know only the sun beating them to submission in seas they cannot drink or wet their lips with.
© M Durfee
2/16/18Drunken wise sailors have told me that I need to know stars to navigate. Those floating lost at sea have no need of night lights to tell them what is destined; they are surrounded by reality. They know only the sun beating them to submission in seas they cannot drink or wet their lips with.
© M Durfee
VERSE ESCAPE
Stark and true. Our raft is small and almost sinkable by the next wave, and we paddle on knowing it, hoping against hope there's something on the horizon besides blue annihilation. Last line is painfully apt. Dying of thirst is a slow and agonizing passing, yet too good for some who have chosen to sow salt in every field. Thanks for playing this week, Mark.
ReplyDeleteWhat a horror, to be trapped among plenty but not able to drink
ReplyDelete:) Love, cat.
Deleteclaustrophobic agoraphobia - quite the feet, this mood, this observation ~
ReplyDeleteAnd what do drunken wise sailors really know, drunk as they are (on power, self-importance, banking on the interests and backing of others (perhaps)).
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, those lost at sea are left with the bleak reality that for them, submission is all they have.
Anna :o]
Maybe drinking will make the end come closer though...
ReplyDeleteWhere are u now, friend Mark ... u ina guuud place? ... meouw ... Love, cat.
ReplyDeletethis is complex. and beautifully written.
ReplyDeletelove
kj
Love the metaphors at use here...absolutely beautiful
ReplyDeleteI am trying to not allow my natural curve towards insanity push me round the bend with all the now new normal foolishness we are forced to live in, America...
ReplyDeleteI do not know much anymore other than here I am and here I was and I should be here still yet for awhile.
Floating o a sea of mediocrity I am glad my grandfather played piano--especially because said instrument was in a house of ill repute. I do wonder at times though did he have a tip jar? Did he play ragtime? These are good questions that will never be answered for that generation has all now stepped into the void.
My guess, you ask? He played to feed his family and watch the lunacy of them enjoying such luxury before there was a cure for syphilis.