even wood, my love, even bone Poem, by Boaz Priestly, at My poetic side

this ship and i

have both got ribs,

crafted from wood and bone,

both housing something greater

than the sum of our parts

but even wood,

even bone,

can splinter and break

and, my heart,

my love,

there is no sign of land

perhaps there has not been

for quite some time,

but like the lovesick fool

that i am, the majesty of

the open ocean and the bright

skies above captured my attention

more than that lonely little spit

of shore growing ever smaller

in the distance ever could

and maybe the answer that

i seek slumbers at the bottom

of the ocean, far from the sun

and the salty tears

of silly bards

for i never was much of

a sailor, much preferring the

company of you and a bottle
of spiced rum to the creaking

ship boards under my boots

and there is no sign of land,

and i hope i never get sober,

and maybe i’ll get to see

your lovely crooked teeth one

more time as you smile so wide

and hold me close

and wouldn’t that be nice,

oh captain of mine?

L. B. Mek August 1st, 2022 02:51
Brilliant!
great imagery
'but like the lovesick fool
that i am, the majesty of

the open ocean and the bright
skies above captured my attention
more than that lonely little spit
of shore growing ever smaller
in the distance ever could'..
(how normality, dwindles
in the face of raw desire;
they call it, choices we make
a heart attack, is a choice...)
James Michael August 23rd, 2022 21:59
Written as only as you can do. You’re an original, don’t ever forget that.

Thank you for reminding us of the deepest of emotions which is love.

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even wood, my love, even bone