- Time is a ship that does not cast anchor. -
Sami proverb
Healing
doesn't means forgetting
or pretending -
The way out of the labyrinth -
as a lone hunter in the wilderness
Pain relief takes time
Allow space for the feelings inside you
Time stops for no one ...
it's now, the heart beats
Life is yours - despite the unbearable
Setting down anchor to settle into soul,
stability guaranteed,
yet threat of cementing to concrete what I have in control.
My anchor is my stablility,
yet it feels too heavy of late;
I feel as if I cannot cast anchor,
to survey both what I want and need to explore.
My anchor is a blessing and curse,
both in how I use it and how it is used;
it keeps me stable and grounded,
yet so easily of late,
it keeps me cemented in place.
That which relaxes me of late has become utterly routine,
and while it settles me out to some degree,
I yearn to cast my anchor aside,
to feel free and be the soul I was meant to be.
Copyright © 2021 Robert Matejko
On a sunny day, you can see forever
The U-boat that cast anchor on the silky shore of Albufeira,
the crew was dressed in German world war two uniforms,
and bathers thought they were actors in a movie.
The captain came ashore he wanted to call Lisbon to his
embassy, only the number didn`t exist anymore, he had
wanted to surrender, his crew were hungry and tired.
A kind barman gave the captain a cold beer, he drank it
greedily and asked what year it was. 2017, my god,
he exclaimed we have landed in a wrong century.
He walked back to his U-boat a neat man and a hero,
the submarine, rusty, like it had been at the bottom of
the sea for ages, hoisted anchor, and sailed into yonder
The Good Faith
!t was a big ship fully automated, the engineers wore
white overalls and the deck officers, splendid uniforms,
while the ship´s captain sat in his cabin and wrote
leaned thing about navigation. the cook was an exception
he still had to prepare food and worked long hours,
But it must be said he had shiny pots and pans the never burned,
So modernity benefitted him too.
The sip had no anchor it had been lost in a storm and now
They had to do with virtual one few had much faith in,
Circling the oceans endless not being able to find a tranquil bay
Cast anchor and rest. So it happened then the hip had a black out
had no anchor and drifted on to a reef, and there was no life boats
the captain said the sip wasn´t sinking his faith in automatic was
like a religion for him, but the ship sank under the greedy ship,
the crew had more faith in life-jacket and the shore line that looked
beautiful in the afternoon.
Yesterday is but the ghost of today,
All shades and mystique.
My demons clawing...
Troubles, all buried.
Seemed as though now nothing... distant dreams.
So vivid and clear,
Far from forgotten.
Away I drift into reflection.
Now to cast anchor,
It's the edge of the abyss.
Looks as if time to pay my piper,
As I must resolve the past
Though my coffers empty.
They're bound to refill.
Here is the tune,
To beat a new path;
Stay a moment with me just breathe.
Oh, my darlings fear not,
I see tomorrows light.
Believe in infinite endings for
In the end...
Yesterday is but the ghost of today.
A Sea Dirge
I once saw, where the horizon ends,
a ship ploughed the sky.
White tears on pale blue,
I saw the waiting darkness;
I knew, before any others,
it would be a starlit night.
Look, I said, but it was too late,
the ship had cast anchor
behind a cloud loading mist
for Dogger Banks,
and take onboard discarded dreams to plug
the dikes of Amsterdam.
Sunflowers on mythical sea
and red flying fish,
my ship is bound for the Saragossa Sea with
cargo of old sailors,
here they come to stalk in fog of the forgotten.
Summer in the Bay
The bay of Cascais is empty today no ships at anchors
the sea azure and flickers of illusive gold coins sought
by those who seek an endless summer.
The town is oddly tame, from my vantage point I see
swimming pools, they look as delicate, clear tears of
a child who wanted to read clouds formation on a sky
blue as the sea. He often looks up, sees elephants,
castles and grazing sheep, today there is nothing but
ennui, it makes him sad. He wonders if sky and sea
once were one and was torn apart by a petulant god
who wanted to swim, sail and fish for his own delight.
Look, white clouds from the east, and afar he sees
a Russian schooner sail into the bay, it has red sails
and will cast anchor at sunset.
Though I sail this wretched sea of life
I do not sail alone
A higher force keeps guiding me
To lead me safely home
Though my sails are torn and battered
I travel on my quest
This sea of life keeps tossing me
But still, I do my best
While drifting through this endless sea
I keep looking for the light
My journey has almost ended now
To a land with no more night
While tired and weary, I carry on
I dare not turn away
I can almost see the lighthouse
I can not go astray
Lead me home, dear light I pray
This ship can sail no more
I cast anchor in the harbor of life
Upon that golden shore
Its course is set by tended wheel
A man of salt stands at the helm
Not led by maps, but stars reveal
The far off island, called King’s Realm
The spray of mist falls fast upon
The rough exterior of this man
With squinted eyes, to see the dawn
The island shows up just as planned
A smile he forms with stogy stuck
This one man crew now sees his gold
He’ll gain fortune, which is his luck
He knew his destiny, it was foretold
But, had he forgotten stories, well
The rocks enslaving the islands wealth
For not many men had lived to tell
Of the pierced ships and stolen health
Alas, an inlet that’s sure to guide
He’ll then cast anchor to make shore
For truth, the riches cannot hide
He’ll take them all, then take more
But, at very last, a wave broke course
A bed of rocks became his berth
When more had come with sounding force
That assured him then of island’s curse
Now, splinters of his ship do drift
As he so watches from the shore
The destruction came ever swift
For lot of gold, he wants no more
A ship is what he wants for sure
Oh what a tangled web we weave,
ever haunting in devious wombs...
tattered voyagers embarking to the confine,
and by nightfall, swarthy leather pants
whip and crack like the white flag
blowing and tearing in a cold snap.
On ebony sails the ravens are perched,
pecking at threads that dangle
from dusky cloths which follow
a foreboding path among the charcoal seas,
with only a pale, crescent moon to light the way.
Heavy weighted winds we will travel;
with no need cast anchor to rest, for
even under the darkest of starless skies
we will navigate through any storm.
Whirlwinds of ships
encircle endlessly in a carousel of waves,
each riding their horses in a cynical unison,
Captain yell fire, seize fire, aim... and fire again.
On the ashen deck the posts are split,
the ocean floor reverberating while
fingers trace softly around her lips,
saturated in sweat and tears... hope, and fear.
In our time we've marked our authority,
through scorching suns and frigid blizzards...
on ebony sails we headway forever
to our home beyond the sea...