Jack Dore's in the Crow’s Nest Spyglass ready at his side Weather eye on the horizon He scans the Caribbean Main The Sun burns – waking past pain Wheals scorched by Cat ‘o’ Nine Across his back – a Reminder To be careful - To be watchful He looks for sails –Spanish sails For Galleons hold treasure Gold to be had - Glory for all If the prey can be found And found it must be For Drake commands – Expects! Woe betide the sailor who’s not Fleet afoot in the quest There is honour to be earned Profit for Elizabeth, our Queen A Share for Captain Drake Even for those who serve beneath So Jack watches – his pain makes for honest The Doubloons in his minds-eye He needs to make his mark To find the foe For the crew are ready - eager Eager to fight - To plunder Plunder Spanish holds To pirate their gold
It's a medium A written window To the soul? Or a jumble of words A fantasy of authorship A cry for fame For the delusional The failed writer Poetry - it's like sarcasm... An escape for those of feeble mind Perhaps 'the lowest form of wit' Or just maybe it's words from beyond A spiritual tour of the subconscious An open doorway to what lies beneath A chance to overtly express An opportunity to speak outside of the norm Poetry demands patience From the writer From the reader... A poem isn't the product of a day There is a lifetime Written in a few sentences The poem asks us to answer a question Of ourselves... Who can fathom that lifetime Within those few short words And even fewer minutes..? Read and try to follow That which is unfathomable...
Martin Addison – 28/04/2021
Stained with blood? A hero of saintly stature Proud on white steed With fallen foes beneath A fiction maybe Of times when saints Held sway over mortal men And the peasant hoped For a peace that was promised In return for prayer Obedience and worship A mythology created One hero of the past Like so many others Created like a Marvel character Able to achieve the impossible But giving the people what they need In similar vein Batman, Superman, Ironman Give the people what they need Our faith has changed Our heroes remain works of fiction But our belief in the silver screen is strong But never underestimate The power of Santiago Matamoros That image from the past Still stirs the fires of human conflict Today's hate for another's beliefs Is born out of ancient images Enduring ideologies that still contest Will sadly never learn To forgive and forget
Martin Addison – 20/04/2021
If I had a £1 for everytime someone has laid the worlds troubles at the door of its religions, I would be a rich man! I look not to create offense with this poem, but to illustrate how the imagery of the past creates foment. My hope is that people of all religions (including atheism, etc…) will perhaps look beyond the past to formulate a way to live in harmony together. I wish peace to you all 🙂