Back in 88,Thomas Smith became the lighthouse watch keep,
He was the first custodian of Kiama lighthouse.
It was a dark spiritual place that tempted the weak to sleep.
Fear and evil can whisk a man’s mind when away from his spouse.
Every night at sunset he would climb the rickety ladder,
And prepare the bright beam in this sanctuary of shadows.
It is men who save lives that the god of the sea would shatter,
But Thomas was tired and saw reflections in the windows.
His old legs strained and shook as he climbed slowly, from floor to floor,
He wiped the sweat from his brow and he dreamed of the old days of peace.
Seeing through the thin veil of the past he wished for nothing more,
Than a quiet night when the raging storms in his ears would cease.
Apparitions appear in the dark sky of a tired mind.
Thomas heard the pleading voice of a young woman in great pain,
“The white witches, tainted me with fire until I was blind,
They would not sanction me, they cast me out in the pouring rain.
I staggered on the jagged rocks but they throw sharp stones at me,
Just here at Kiama water spray I fell into the cave.
The secret of my unborn black-skinned baby died in the sea,
Now I am banished with the wolves of loneliness at my grave.”
Thomas wiped his eyes but the sad and lonely ghost had vanished.
So as he clapped the obedient slaves of his memory,
Letting them soothe the painful truth, until all doubts were vanquished,
He realised there is a place beyond joy and misery.
He was now made proud within limestone walls and shamed by his dreams,
He drifted on the peaceful ocean to a heavenly place,
Filled with multitudes of bright coloured flowers growing in teams.
And this dark world of sinister secrets and shame leaves no trace.
He stood tall and confident in his role as lighthouse watchman,
Although the mist and fog of disappointment had closed his eyes.
Why did he save the ships that toil with the watery demon,
Only to watch the men become killers when the music dies.
The gentleness of the green-blue sea was a welcome haven,
Far from the ghostly lady and the ominous gates of hell,
He was far from the disturbing and terrible world of men.
Sharing the pain of a sad woman but unable to tell.
In the splendid morning Thomas went back to his lonely ways,
Defeated by a place, where joy is brief and misery stays.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: August 18th, 2023 17:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
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Comments4
My comments on the poem "The lighthouse watch keep and the white witches of Kiama” by David Wakeling.
A lighthouse keeper’s job is a very lonesome one. He spends whole nights alone, with no one to talk to, no one to see. He just watches over the endless sea. While the forces of the sea and the winds try to kill off people on the sea, the keeper tries to warn them against dangers. The loneliness ends up taking its toll. The man saw reflections in the windows. The “raging storms” would make the life all the worse for him, for they would worsen the feelings of loneliness and helplessness. From the harassing mental situation, it is natural that he should be seeing and hearing things.
“Thomas wiped his eyes” : the poor soul was crying. “the lonely ghost had vanished” : there seemed to be ghosts in the place. His mind shifted from a horrifying place to one of heavenly peace. “the fog of disappointment” : obviously one could fall to disappointment in such working conditions.
It was ironical that he should save the mariners from the dangers of the sea (shipwrecks) when these very people might turn out to be killers. The sea returned to a calm, welcoming sight : “a welcome haven.”
“He was far from the disturbing and terrible world of men.” On one hand he resented the cruelties of men, and on the other hand the lighthouse provided him with a refuge from such a life.
A lighthouse keeper’s job is a very lonely one. And loneliness can wreak havoc with your mind. Fortunately, today there is the Internet and mobile phones. Lonely workers can keep in touch and get some distraction. Soman Ragavan. 19 August, 2023. //
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What a remarkable commentary. I thank you for taking the time to say so much about my humble poem.I certainly appreciated the effort.
My second batch of comments on the poem "The lighthouse watch keep and the white witches of Kiama” by David Wakeling.
Notice the conditions in which the keeper worked :
“a dark spiritual place,” “rickety ladder,” “sanctuary of shadows,” “But Thomas was tired,” “His old legs strained and shook as he climbed slowly, from floor to floor,” “He wiped the sweat from his brow and dreamed of the old days of peace,” “he wished for nothing more than a quiet night,” “Thomas wiped his eyes,” “Although the mist and fog of disappointment had closed his eyes,” “The gentleness of the green-blue sea was a welcome haven,” “Thomas went back to his lonely ways,” “Defeated by a place where joy is brief and misery stays.”
In the old days the man was utterly alone in the maddening conditions of solitude and emptiness. The lighthouse was a jail. Now he has been saved by the Internet and mobile phones : he can call for help, he gets distraction, he can talk to people by phone, he knows he is not entirely alone.
From my poem : "A dog’s life” :
”Poor dog, all these years of deprivations,
All these years of suffering and restrictions
Bravely hath thou borne with a cheerful face :
Hath thou receiv'd in this life any solace ?
This poem by David Wakeling is an ode to the life of the lighthouse keeper, and, as befits poets, they will sing the glory of such workers. So, to Thomas we say : “Thank you, friend, for all your sacrifices. You have been immortalized in poetry. The lighthouse itself might disappear one day; poetry will not.” Soman Ragavan. 19 August, 2023. //
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Thank you again.Your comments are much appreciated
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