The ocean
Gave a gift to me
A coin for passage
Across the sea
To pay the ferryman
Should I need to cross
To light the lanterns
So I won't
Get lost
With an oar and a long boat
Down river goes the deal maker,
Ferrying another soul afloat
... For I am their taker ...
Black cloak 'round my shoulder
Two coins in my bony hand,
I bring the younger or older
Off to a more distant land
Paddling waters, still and gray
Done a million times or more,
Candle and lantern to light my way
Back and forth to each shore
My fee is due on your funeral day
Not long after a warm body dies,
So your spirit will not have to pay
May someone lay them on your eyes
'Tis no easy, nor grim task ...
For two thin coins of solid gold,
Death wears no ghoulish mask
Draped in peaceful shrouds of olde
Entrust unto me, the so-called reaper
Sent on down here by your maker,
Fear not me ... a gate keeper
This olde ferryman ... the taker.
What did I take away
from summer camp?
Not COVID
this year,
nor the clap
of one hand ringing.
But, instead
a more resilient health
of authentic sacred wealth
TransFormative dance
singing integrity's great
synergetic
bromance.
Polyphonic men
mind and body embracing
polypathic gods
re-imaging polytheistic goddesses
engaging all us in-between
communal transubstantiations.
My own spirited mind
and strong natured body
transition
has not been solely limited by Others'
lack of win/win imagination
But also,
perhaps primarily
and primally,
by my own
win straight mind
lose ***** body
trauma story,
His-poled v Her-holed history
Mind blaming
and body shaming
Left hemisphere's lack
of co-passioned pleasuring
Right-now transcendent
peak co-empathic mystery
More resiliently inquiring--
What transformative longing
does bromance take away
from summer's sacred belonging
mind and body camp?
“I wish the ferry had a fairy,” said Phoebe with a frown
to no one in particular (but everyone remembered later on).
That’s a strange thing to say on an excursion in Year 5,
especially when the teachers are around.
Eating hot chips on the seat just up from me,
a skinny man avoids my longing stare (Those chips of his, I wish were mine).
I hear a funny squawk. It isn’t me -
Chip-wishing seagulls probably, somewhere (I probably shouldn’t stare).
I cool my wishful eyes in harbour waves of green.
(The shore has nothing interesting to see –
No animals, I mean. Look -
Just - more - green.)
I hear a funny squawk. It’s under me!
No, it’s not a fairy penguin (as you may have been expecting).
“It’s a chook!” I scream…
…I scream = ice-cream…mmm…
I close my eyes and dream,
open one eye, have a sneaky look…It’s still a chook.
Ferry man elf rode in on a stream
From the River Styx, or at least it seemed….
We were a tiny bit afraid of this elf so gray.
He had appeared suddenly on this somber day.
Do you think he’s here to collect? Someone asked.
It would be mean, and it’s such an awful task!
We did not know, but we gave him a wide berth.
This ferry man elf who sprung from middle earth.
clearing morning mist
silhouetted hills in view
Arran ferry
By heck it was cold on the Humber ferry
The water was deep and Hull smelled like leather
May I mention the bridge it’s all there’s left
The boat man’s gone, it must be the Styx
Right it was cold on the Humber ferry
!ow I’m a widow from him who I married
His mother was Hilda his father was Harry
His father went fast but his mother did tarry
We could well have drowned her
If she had come on the ferry.
She remembered where she’d met Jerry.
It had been on a moving ferry,
She journeying to rejoin Kerry,
With whom life was mostly merry.
But Kerry Gangsters would soon bury,
Seal it and there shan’t be Query!
He had their rules broken with Terry;
A loss and she’d kept drinking Perry
And on Not-Stewed Rice: Beri-Beri…
No more appetite for Sweet Cherry
And rather little for Loved Berry…
Jerry could never be Nice Kerry:
One-Thousand-Times A Cheating Lover,
Though, she’d caught him not: Good Cover,
Falsely claiming being often busy
And that Life has not been quite easy...
From Killed Kerry to Cheating Jerry;
She’d continue to curse that ferry!
He was a young man traveling lightly with nothing much to carry
but his dreams and wide-eyed wonder
and a ticket for a ferry
Ride, across a river wide that meandered like nothing real
while looking for rhyme and reason
to come alive and learn to deal
With whom and what he was inside, deeper than the skies
he would soon be crossing over
with this new-found ferry ticket ride
Taking him to places he knew not where or when
Yet knowing he’d soon be racing time
like a moth against the wind
While waiting for the ferry boat still in his youthful prime
He heard the wind spin tails again and whisper “Time to ride.”
took trip on ferry
waves seemed to be so scary
sizes would vary
(that applies to both ferry and waves)
had been contrary
only fools take a ferry
ugly wife marry
ride ferry had urge
great idea did emerge
buy my ticket splurge
after trip would end
only small amount did spend
ferry my new friend
would rain more and more
on ferry started to pour
on each beach and shore
knew without a doubt
from ferry we caught a trout
saw whale which would spout
You left me stranded on a beach. Alone. I don't feel safe without you.
I crossed a bridge onto a new beach looking for safety
but none was there.
I wandered aimlessly over sand dunes bewitched by your memory.
Seeing your face, I traced your smile in the sand to feel safe again
but I didn't.
Your voice echoing in my heart, in all my being is beginning to fade.
I try to hold on to your words of love that once kept me safe
but I can't.
I'll wait on this wharf of fading dreams, hoping, praying a ferry will come
and take me to wherever you are, to where I can again feel
Safe at Lasts.
As we gobble berry
And devour cherry
The heart is merry
Towards Bliss on a ferry
For Jerry and Kerry
And for Perry and Terry
As we indulge berry
And mouths cram with cherry
Disappointments we bury
And our woes the dreary
Then, a reply that shouldn’t me weary:
Where’s my promised berry
And guaranteed cherry?
Hurry, hurry, don't miss the ferry
That takes you up to Londonderry
They are having their annual fair
You'll hear them sing Londonderry Air.
Take the trolley up to London town
Where London Bridge is Falling Down
Be sure to listen for old Big Ben
And when you leave come back again.
written August 30, 2021
There was a man called Terry
Who captained his own Ferry
When his ship hit a rock
He recovered from the shock
Drinking a bottle of Sherry.
an hour before docking
it was ice cold and freezing
as the vessel like scissors
cut clean through the swell
and the ship’s horn then sounded
and woke those still sleeping
startling the standing
and seagulls as well
and the door opened outwards
on a windswept and dark deck
as a lighthouse and headland
appeared to our right
while the radar was turning
mixing mist with the morning
as we looked over railings
still wet from the night
and the lifeboat above us
secured by strong davits
dripped north sea in droplets
from somewhere on high
and the noise of the engines
grew loud and then quiet
as the spindrift and windchill
danced free with the sky
and the lights and the silos
of europoort holland
shone bright with blurred colours
and painted a view
that had us transfixed
with our backs towards england
as dawn beckoned others
to stand and stare too.
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