For There Be Sirens

Between night and day lies a slate sea
with only cheap whiskey
to ease the passage towards dawn.

Seven times we listed to starboard
until on the eighth I went over,
dashing my head amid the flotsam
of my ruined work.

Beached in the silver of the new day
I slept the sleep of kings,
dreaming of dark eyes and of no awakening.

Tonight we set sail again,
strapping ourselves to the mast.

For there be sirens.

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Sea Dog #1

High up in the crow’s nest
is where I can be found
around the hours past reason
when most are tucked up sound.
I watch for signs of meaning
upon this damnable sea,
which God has long forsaken
as love has forsook me.

I went to be a sailor,
a sailor for to be,
but found no ship would have me
within its company.
So I raved against the moonlight
there upon the quay,
which God has long forsaken
as love has forsook me.

I met a girl and loved her
as deep as love can be
but found she would not take me
to be her company,
so I took to good strong whiskey
and raging at the sea,
which God has long forsaken
as love has forsook me.

Away from all society,
is where I now belong,
a scribe of no distinction
in a state fit for no one,
a hellbound dog by moonlight
upon a raging sea,
I drink to the forsaken,
all poets and the sea.