Swans Commentary » swans.com July 28, 2008  

 

---

 

 

by Marie Rennard

 

Poetry

 

 

(Swans - July 28, 2008)  

The lonely sailor

Gets drunk when the night comes.

He counts the stars, and reads the world

And draws left-hand the lines of shores

When the moon wolfs the dark.

He stands in the wet air

Wavering

And hears, and carefully listens

To lyrics the air blows

From distant grounds.

They're bottles to the sea

Messages to the moon

Tears or drops

Gaps in clouds

Locks

Circumstances or might-have-been

The smiles of the rescued

The white eyes of the dead.

Sailor

Sometimes wobbles

Out of dirty whiskey

When the blow gets stronger

When it starts smelling fire

When on the lines of shores

Red burst outs hurt the night

And winds themselves forget

That it is all about love

And of sewing a song.

Then,

He throws to the sea his useless bottle

Empty.

 

 

If you find our work valuable, please consider helping us financially.

Internal Resources

Poetry

Arts & Culture

 

About the Author

Marie Rennard on Swans (with bio).

 

Legalese

Please, feel free to insert a link to this work on your Web site or to disseminate its URL on your favorite lists, quoting the first paragraph or providing a summary. However, please DO NOT steal, scavenge, or repost this work on the Web or any electronic media. Inlining, mirroring, and framing are expressly prohibited. Pulp re-publishing is welcome -- please contact the publisher. This material is copyrighted, © Marie Rennard 2008. All rights reserved.

 

Have your say

Do you wish to share your opinion? We invite your comments. E-mail the Editor. Please include your full name, address and phone number (the city, state/country where you reside is paramount information). When/if we publish your opinion we will only include your name, city, state, and country.

 

 

This Edition's Internal Links

An Interview With Jürgen Vsych - Jan Baughman

Jürgen Vsych's What Was Ralph Nader Thinking? - Book Review by Jan Baughman

Waging Democracy On China: Human Rights and an Endowment for Democracy - Michael Barker

The Sands Of Time Grinding Again Exceedingly Fine - Carol Warner Christen

A Wreath For Jo Stafford - Charles Marowitz

Marybeth Hamilton's In Search Of The Blues: Black Voices, White Visions - Book Review by Peter Byrne

Crisi (Crisis) - Poem by Guido Monte

Myrn Dreckinbridge Meets Bob Crumbo - Humor by Peter Byrne

Break Down - Poem by Michael Doliner

Blips #71 - From the Martian Desk - Gilles d'Aymery

Letters to the Editor