I recently wrote this poem for a creative writing class workshop and would love to get some feedback before I submit it for review. Thanks!
*Edited 3/10/15 after reading critique from Billy.
The Captain
Ocean spray upon his face,
White wisps whirl overhead,
Setting course at rapid pace,
Beneath a sapphire spread,
Navigating open seas,
Led by mermaid figurehead,
Black flag whipping in the breeze,
Seeking destiny ahead,
Voyagers from distant shores,
Salt upon their brows,
Buoyant in the great outdoors,
Steady tracks the prow,
Awash with dreams of glory,
Seduced by golden greed,
The crew takes inventory,
Of supplies stockpiled in need,
Grape shot, grog, and powder chest,
Cutlass, grapple, guns,
All aboard with crew abreast,
Blackbeard’s favorite sons,
Spirits high, the flag unfurls,
The rowers start to chant,
Legends sung of gold and pearls,
Distract from rations, scant,
Through many nights of toil,
Dark whispers slowly grow,
Tempers bubble, swell and boil,
In cabin decks below,
A tide rising against him,
The Captain must decide,
Itching at his phantom limb,
His spyglass cast aside,
Grasping a ragged paper,
Bold red X marks the spot,
He draws his cold steel rapier,
To sever the serpentine knot,
He weaves a lofty story,
Of wealth beyond all count,
Saying “all shall share the glory,
Or be held to account!”
A corsair king, he then became,
Commanding loyal crew,
With avaricious hearts aflame,
The mutiny subdued,
Gliding over arcane waters,
He checks starboard, bow and stern,
Snubbing romps of sprightly otters,
The Captain’s scrutiny upturned,
“Land ho!” came shouts from crow’s nest,
As the ship approached a reef,
The first mate offered no protest,
Erroneous belief,
Dropping anchor in the bay,
Behind the scowling cliffs,
He called upon his bravest men,
To pack gear in the skiffs,
Oars dip to the rhythm,
Heave, and ho, and heave,
The soothing repetition,
Gives Captain no reprieve,
Docking boat on golden shore,
Surveying rock, tree, sand,
His company could not ignore,
The shadow on the land,
From that fateful moment forth,
They stood guarded, superstitious,
Adhering strictly to true north,
The Captain stayed ambitious,
Prevailing winds blowing in,
He focused on his map,
Seeking out a safe haven,
Avoiding booby-traps,
Hidden by cruel men of leisure,
Run aground in dire times,
To guard their hidden, buried treasure,
Hard-earned through wicked crimes,
At sunrise, crew embarked on foot,
Past strangled jungles thick with vines,
Trudging, tracking, all hard put,
Oppressed by jade confines,
A tribe of wild spider monkeys,
Jeer from web-like branches,
Chattering like demon junkies,
On, the crew advances,
Carried by corrupted breath,
Echoes clear a macaw call,
“Tread not here lest ye seek Death,”
Omen shot like cannon ball,
The men began to howl and quail,
A ghastly fear cast on them,
But Captain, grim, refused to fail,
Eyes gleaming, emerald gems,
Their tattered nerves were fraying,
Yet, the company endured,
Landlocked sailors, close obeying,
Captain’s orders like a lure,
At length they reached the clearing,
Scouting skull-like stone ahead,
As one, they started cheering,
But the Captain’s thoughts turned red,
So close now to the prize he sought,
A spark flashed in his mind,
Suspecting every face of plots,
And devious designs,
The Captain reached a swift conclusion,
Brain flowing with evil plans,
Deceiving crew with false illusions,
Leaving him, last man to stand,
At last, he reached the destination,
Between two shark-tooth crags,
There he saw, to his elation,
A Jolly Roger flag,
On the ground below the staff,
Rest a pair of crossed white bones,
The Captain, there, let out a laugh,
His caution overthrown,
At once he started digging,
At a feverish, frantic pace,
Wits tauter than the rigging,
Holding vessel’s mast in place,
Thud! His shovel struck hard wood,
He dropped to hands and knees,
Mustering what strength he could,
The Captain gave a mighty heave,
Excavating antique crate,
With a rusty iron lock,
The Captain didn’t hesitate,
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock,
He reaches for his blunderbuss,
Then, steadying his aim,
Boom! Lock cracks without a fuss,
Now, the Captain stakes his claim,
Black heart beating like crow’s wings,
Shaking hands grope for the chest,
Tarnished hinges moan and sing,
Convulsing like a fiend possessed,
As the lid swung open wide,
The Captain sat there puzzled,
Only dusty tome, entombed inside,
And a flagon of rum half-guzzled,
The book was black, leather bound,
All pages empty at first look,
Turning and turning, the Captain found,
An image that can’t be mistook,
On page thirteen sat a jet black spot,
An obsidian whirlpool to hell,
Knowing his dark designs lay in rot,
The Captain’s courage quelled,
Chased by phantom apparitions,
Night suffocates his hope and reason,
Undying retreat from his own condition,
The Captain’s punishment for treason.
-Jeremy G.
*Edited 3/10/15 after reading critique from Billy.
The Captain
Ocean spray upon his face,
White wisps whirl overhead,
Setting course at rapid pace,
Beneath a sapphire spread,
Navigating open seas,
Led by mermaid figurehead,
Black flag whipping in the breeze,
Seeking destiny ahead,
Voyagers from distant shores,
Salt upon their brows,
Buoyant in the great outdoors,
Steady tracks the prow,
Awash with dreams of glory,
Seduced by golden greed,
The crew takes inventory,
Of supplies stockpiled in need,
Grape shot, grog, and powder chest,
Cutlass, grapple, guns,
All aboard with crew abreast,
Blackbeard’s favorite sons,
Spirits high, the flag unfurls,
The rowers start to chant,
Legends sung of gold and pearls,
Distract from rations, scant,
Through many nights of toil,
Dark whispers slowly grow,
Tempers bubble, swell and boil,
In cabin decks below,
A tide rising against him,
The Captain must decide,
Itching at his phantom limb,
His spyglass cast aside,
Grasping a ragged paper,
Bold red X marks the spot,
He draws his cold steel rapier,
To sever the serpentine knot,
He weaves a lofty story,
Of wealth beyond all count,
Saying “all shall share the glory,
Or be held to account!”
A corsair king, he then became,
Commanding loyal crew,
With avaricious hearts aflame,
The mutiny subdued,
Gliding over arcane waters,
He checks starboard, bow and stern,
Snubbing romps of sprightly otters,
The Captain’s scrutiny upturned,
“Land ho!” came shouts from crow’s nest,
As the ship approached a reef,
The first mate offered no protest,
Erroneous belief,
Dropping anchor in the bay,
Behind the scowling cliffs,
He called upon his bravest men,
To pack gear in the skiffs,
Oars dip to the rhythm,
Heave, and ho, and heave,
The soothing repetition,
Gives Captain no reprieve,
Docking boat on golden shore,
Surveying rock, tree, sand,
His company could not ignore,
The shadow on the land,
From that fateful moment forth,
They stood guarded, superstitious,
Adhering strictly to true north,
The Captain stayed ambitious,
Prevailing winds blowing in,
He focused on his map,
Seeking out a safe haven,
Avoiding booby-traps,
Hidden by cruel men of leisure,
Run aground in dire times,
To guard their hidden, buried treasure,
Hard-earned through wicked crimes,
At sunrise, crew embarked on foot,
Past strangled jungles thick with vines,
Trudging, tracking, all hard put,
Oppressed by jade confines,
A tribe of wild spider monkeys,
Jeer from web-like branches,
Chattering like demon junkies,
On, the crew advances,
Carried by corrupted breath,
Echoes clear a macaw call,
“Tread not here lest ye seek Death,”
Omen shot like cannon ball,
The men began to howl and quail,
A ghastly fear cast on them,
But Captain, grim, refused to fail,
Eyes gleaming, emerald gems,
Their tattered nerves were fraying,
Yet, the company endured,
Landlocked sailors, close obeying,
Captain’s orders like a lure,
At length they reached the clearing,
Scouting skull-like stone ahead,
As one, they started cheering,
But the Captain’s thoughts turned red,
So close now to the prize he sought,
A spark flashed in his mind,
Suspecting every face of plots,
And devious designs,
The Captain reached a swift conclusion,
Brain flowing with evil plans,
Deceiving crew with false illusions,
Leaving him, last man to stand,
At last, he reached the destination,
Between two shark-tooth crags,
There he saw, to his elation,
A Jolly Roger flag,
On the ground below the staff,
Rest a pair of crossed white bones,
The Captain, there, let out a laugh,
His caution overthrown,
At once he started digging,
At a feverish, frantic pace,
Wits tauter than the rigging,
Holding vessel’s mast in place,
Thud! His shovel struck hard wood,
He dropped to hands and knees,
Mustering what strength he could,
The Captain gave a mighty heave,
Excavating antique crate,
With a rusty iron lock,
The Captain didn’t hesitate,
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock,
He reaches for his blunderbuss,
Then, steadying his aim,
Boom! Lock cracks without a fuss,
Now, the Captain stakes his claim,
Black heart beating like crow’s wings,
Shaking hands grope for the chest,
Tarnished hinges moan and sing,
Convulsing like a fiend possessed,
As the lid swung open wide,
The Captain sat there puzzled,
Only dusty tome, entombed inside,
And a flagon of rum half-guzzled,
The book was black, leather bound,
All pages empty at first look,
Turning and turning, the Captain found,
An image that can’t be mistook,
On page thirteen sat a jet black spot,
An obsidian whirlpool to hell,
Knowing his dark designs lay in rot,
The Captain’s courage quelled,
Chased by phantom apparitions,
Night suffocates his hope and reason,
Undying retreat from his own condition,
The Captain’s punishment for treason.
-Jeremy G.
