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Thread: Poetry and Creative writing

  1. #1
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Poetry and Creative writing

    Hi there all you budding poets and writers of sea stories,this thread is for you,the usual rules apply,no politics,porn or religion,just pure ,unadulterard, writing for the joy of it.


  2. #2
    Captain Kong captain kong's Avatar
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    Here is my famous tale of the Mersey that I read out at the Merchant Navy Day Service in St Nicholas Church in September.

    MERSEY MEMORIES.

    What a wonderful river the Mersey is, it is a conveyor to the seas and oceans of the world. It is a river that has changed so many lives.

    Let us not forget, it was from this River Mersey, that those brave men and women, sailed into U-boat Alley, in the Battle of the Atlantic, and in the Malta and Russian convoys, many never to return, some leaving their bones on the bottom of the ocean, others were buried in some far off land, many suffered extreme hardships in lifeboats. The Ship Owners stopping their wages on the day the ship went down.

    It was this same River Mersey that carried me out, as a young Deck Boy, to sail amongst the flying fish, the dolphins, the whales and the odd sea serpent.
    From the River Mersey we sailed to those other great rivers, The St. Laurence, to Montreal, the Hudson to New York, a thousand miles up the Amazon to Manaus, the Plate, the Congo, the Whampoa to Shanghai, the Houghly to Calcutta and the Shatt al Arab in the Gulf.

    Sailing out of the River Mersey on the old Cunard Liners, the `Franconia` and `Britannic`, gave me a chance to meet many celebrities, from Mary Pickford, Bob Hope, Burt Lancaster and many others
    In the Market Diner opposite pier 90 in New York, I sat next to the beautiful Grace Kelly one night, and the next I sat with Cadillac Kate.
    Up on Broadway I shook hands with `The Hand That Shook The World`, in Jack Dempsey?s Bar and in the clubs across the road I danced to the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra.
    The River Mersey took me out to Jamaica on a Fyffe?s banana boat and a meeting with Errol Flynn where we shared a bottle of Rum on his yacht `Zacca`.
    I sailed down the River Mersey in 1959 and met Fidel Castro and when I asked him to buy me a drink he told me to "Vamoose" or something like that.

    The River Mersey allowed us to go on the worlds biggest pub crawl, From Joe Beefs in Montreal, the Diner in New York, the Scandy Bar in Valparaiso. To May Sullivan?s Bar in Buenos Aires, , then across to Tombo Mary?s in Apapa, Nigeria, down to Del Monaco?s in Cape Town, up to the Anchor Bar in Mombassa, across to Mary Bashems and the Blood House in Sydney and Ma Gleason?s in Auckland.

    This River Mersey took me out to see all my girl friends around the world. To Rosita, Paquita and Maria in South America. To my lovely Wahine under the swaying palms in Tahiti. To Maggie in New Zealand where she and her friends sang, `Now is the Hour`, as we sailed out into the Pacific, To Hanako in Moji, Japan, where I had to share a hot bath tub with her Mamasan and Papasan, whilst drinking Sake. To Dedeh in Tanjong Priok in Java, with her colourful sarong and beautiful long black hair. Then there was Mimi in Hong Kong who kept me going in free beer with the dollars she robbed off the American Sailors.

    The River Mersey took us out across the Atlantic on the big white `Empress?s, `the Empress of Scotland` and `Empress of France`. We went to Montreal and drank in the `House of Scouse` and saw Joe Finnegan and Tommy Lawless win the singing contests on the Bulova Watch Radio Show.
    On the `Empress of France` we hit the iceberg and lost 40 feet of bilge keel.

    After sailing down the River Mersey, many jumped ship, to be Waiters and Bartenders in New York, or Lumberjacks in Canada, Sheepherders in New Zealand or Wharfies in Australia.
    After 24 years as an Able Seaman, it was on the banks of the Mersey, up on Derby Square, where I sat for my Mates and Masters Certificates, which gave me that wonderful feeling when navigating a 300,000 ton tanker across the oceans of the world.
    Now that I have retired after 45 years of seafaring, I stand on the Pier Head and looking out onto the dark waters of the River Mersey, I can see the ghosts of the old ships sailing past, outward bound to a world that no longer exists.
    The `Reina Del Pacifico` to Valparaiso, the `Georgic` taking ?10 Poms to a new life in Australia, the `Franconia` and `Empress of Scotland` off to New York and Montreal, the Blue Funnel ships to Java, China and Japan. Elder Dempsters, Harrison?s, Ellerman`s and `Maggie` Booths with many others, all have sailed off the face of the earth, never to return. Then I think of the Mersey, what a wonderful River, it gave me all of this and much more. Thank you, River Mersey. Brian Aspinall, aka Captain Kong.

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    Captain Kong captain kong's Avatar
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    Author unknown.


    Ten thousand miles and a world away
    Old `Alehouse `on his death bed lay,
    Alone and forgotten lying there
    he softly whispered this dying prayer.

    Oh take me back to my younger days
    To the old Pier Head and the Landing Stage.
    Where the Liver Birds with gaze serene
    look down upon the bustling scene.

    Where the double decker trams roll by
    their trolleys swinging in the sky,
    and homeward Dockers wearily tread
    underneath the Overhead.

    The busy ferry boats leave the Stage
    rolling and bumping on the waves.
    Fighting hard against the tide
    all the way to the other side.

    Dockers in long greasy coats
    horses and carts on the luggage boats
    Buckets and spades in grubby hands
    heading for New Brighton sands

    Banana boats and liners tall
    moored together along the Wall.
    Copra, cotton and sugar cane
    barges loading up with grain.

    Wet Nellies and great mugs of tea
    in the Cocoa rooms by the old Goree
    Coolies parading down Scotland Road
    dressed in Paddy`s Market clothes.

    Gone is the Liverpool that I knew
    Gone are all my old friends too
    The trams, the horses and the floats
    Gone are all the Cunard boats.

    Oh take me back to the old Pier Head
    to ride once more on the Overhead
    To sign on at the Pool again
    Alehouse`s last trip down Memory Lane

    posted by `Alehouse`, aka CaptainKong. Author unknown,

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    Captain Kong captain kong's Avatar
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    FIDDLERS GREEN. Author unknown.

    As I roved by the dockside one evening so fair
    To view the salt waters and take in the salt air
    I heard an old sailorman singing a song
    "Oh take me away boys me time is not long

    Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
    No more on the docks I'll be seen
    Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
    And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

    Now Fiddlers Green is a place I've heard tell
    Where sailormen go if they don't go to hell
    Where the weather is fair and the dolphin do play
    And the cold coast of Greenland is far,far away

    Now when you're in dock and the long trip is through
    There's pubs and there's clubs and there's fair lassies too
    And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
    And there's bottles of rum growing on every tree

    Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gale
    And the fish jump aboard with a swish of the tail
    Where you lie at your leisure there's no work to do
    And the skippers below making tea for the crew

    Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
    No more on the docks I'll be seen
    Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
    I'll see you again on Fiddlers Green

    Now I don?t want a harp nor a halo, not me
    Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
    I'll play me old squeeze box as we sail along
    With the wind in the rigging to sing me a song.
    And I'll see you again on Fiddlers Green..................".


    Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
    No more on the docks I'll be seen
    Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
    And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

  5. #5
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by captain kong View Post
    Sailing out of the River Mersey on the old Cunard Liners, the `Franconia` and `Britannic`, gave me a chance to meet many celebrities, from Mary Pickford, Bob Hope, Burt Lancaster and many others, aka Captain Kong.

    Great memories, Brian. Thanks for sharing them with us. Maybe you were on the Britannic when I sailed on her circa 1957? I also sailed from Liverpool on the Saxonia, when I initially emigrated to the U.S. in 1955, and I believe I was also on the original Queen Elizabeth from New York to Southampton on one crossing.



    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

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    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    This first piece is in the way of a found poem that I put together for the "Liverpool Poem800" site. The second, original, poem was also written for that site.

    Sailing Day: Liverpool, Tuesday, July 16th, 1833

    I am not usually very particular about dates;
    but, as there is an odd coincidence connected with
    the 16th, I desire to note it. On this day, then,
    about 3 P.M. I was rumbled from Bold-street
    down to St. George?s Dock, accompanied
    by a few friends, who were resolute to extend their
    kindness to the latest limit time and tide,
    those unyielding agents, might allow.

    Arrived at the ship?s side, I found
    a number of my own poor countrymen,
    agricultural speculators, filling up a leisure
    moment before seeking harvest, in seeing
    ?Who in the world was going to America, all that way. . .?

    Disposing amongst the boys the few shillings I had left
    in my pocket, I jumped on board the packet-
    ship Europe, without cross or coin, saving only
    a couple of luck-pennies, the one an American gold
    eagle, the present of an amiable gentlewoman;
    the other a crooked sixpence, suspended
    by a crimson ribbon, the offering of a fair
    ?maid of the inn,? given to me on the very eve
    of sailing-day with many kind wishes,
    all of which have been realized.*

    Tyrone Power

    * This reminiscence by Irish actor Tyrone Power (1795-1841), great grandfather of the movie actor of the same name, recollects one of a number of cross-atlantic trips the actor made to appear on the American stage. During one such ocean crossing, on March 17, 1841, he was lost at sea when his ship sank on a passage back to England.


    Take As Take Can

    We?re huddled in Mother Redcap?s one freezing night
    swigging rum and porter, content that we?ve stowed
    our wreckers? best-found gains in Redcap?s cellars,
    a-ready to haul them out shortly, up over the moors

    when in swaggers Jack Daws, excise officer -- our foe!
    -- may Beelzebub take the man! Daws eyes us cannily.
    We lean closer, devise a plan: Jack has not spied me,
    so I sneak out the back way, sprint down to the beach,

    like a fool lay down in the dark cold, incoming tide.
    Water licks my face, drenches my clothes immediately.
    What is taking them so long? Has our plan gone awry?
    Will I succumb to b-b-bone-numbing cold, ever get dry?

    My teeth are a-chattering; do I though hear a yell?
    Jack Daws comes a-swaggering down to the swell,
    believes me dead. Aye -- I might be soon as well!
    Blighter picks my pocket, takes my best fob watch!

    I groan and pretend to wake, grasp my handspike,
    stun him smack! with an almighty swing. Oh, brother!
    So, mateys, we haul our goods through the back door!
    Aye, ?tis some neat and crafty work tonight at Mother?s!

    Christopher T. George

    Note: This poem is based on a story told about the tavern run in the 18th century by Mother Redcap on the shore at Liscard across the Mersey from Liverpool. Tradition has it that the inn was frequented by smugglers and wreckers -- men who would pillage shipwrecked ships. They were said to have hidden their ill-gotten gains at Mother Redcap?s and at the Red Noses west of New Brighton.
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

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    paddy Paddy's Avatar
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    Default Two from Salt water ballads!

    HELL'S PAVEMENT

    'When I'm discharged in Liverpool 'n' draws my bit

    o' pay,

    I won't come to sea no more.
    I'll court a pretty little lass 'n' have a weddin' day,

    'N' settle somewhere down ashore.
    I'll never fare to sea again a-temptin' Davy Jones,
    A-hearkening to the cruel sharks a-hungerin' for

    my bones;

    I'll run a blushin' dairy-farm or go a-crackin' stones,
    Or buy 'n' keep a little liquor-store,'

    So he said.

    They towed her in to Liverpool, we made the

    hooker fast,

    And the copper-bound officials paid the crew,
    And Billy drew his money, but the money didn't

    last,
    For he painted the alongshore blue,


    John Masefield




    VALEDICTION (LIVERPOOL DOCKS)

    A CRIMP. A DRUNKEN SAILOR.

    Is there anything as I can do ashore for you
    When youve dropped down the tide?

    You can take 'n' tell Nan I'm goin' about the
    world agen,

    'N' that the world's wide.
    'N' tell her that there ain't no postal service

    Not down on the blue sea.

    'N' tell her that she'd best not keep her fires
    alight

    Nor set up late for me.
    'N' tell her I'll have forgotten all about her

    Afore we cross the Line.

    'N' tell her that the dollars of any other sailor-
    man

    Is as good red gold as mine.


    John Masefield
    Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
    Time held me green and dying
    Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

    Dylan Thomas

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    Captain Kong captain kong's Avatar
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    Hi George I did a trip on the Brit in 1956,
    here is another favourite poem of the Sea.

    My old Ships.

    When old ships I used to know come back from the sea
    they are laden with a cargo, full of messages for me.
    And they bring men I used to know, grown older by the years
    to chat about the old days and lift a glass that cheers.

    When old ships I used to know drop anchor by the shore
    with a salty, smoky funnel and a pennant at the fore
    Red rust on the bowplate and decks that smell of brine,
    I know them as the old ships that will ever more be mine.

    When old ships come back again they tell of an Empires`s fame
    or a Consul`s office out abroad where I sometimes signed my name.
    To work my passage, broke and bent, a heart like a lump of lead,
    till "***** Street" changed to "Promised Land" on sighting Beachy Head.

    In old ships I used to know I`d lean on the rail at night
    and follow the lay of the Southern Cross, from the Line to the Aussie Bight.
    I`d count the days from Calleo, to the Horn and the Flortida Keys
    with the Great Bear as a pilot through the North Atlantic Seas.

    The old ships I used to know from Penang to the Golden Gate
    they wrap their arms around me and whisper a sailing date
    and I`m out on the run to Rio, and back with a concience clear
    on every course of the compass the `Old Man` chose to steer.

    The old ships, they give me joy, but bring me something more,
    they bring Cape Town and Freemantle right up to my front door.
    When I sit by a cosy fireside and the wind howls through the trees,
    there`s a call that veers to the harbour piers, the call of the open seas.

    by Sydney Brand, in `Sea Breezes` August 1950

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    Senior Member naked lilac's Avatar
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    Excellant memories, poems and writing.. ta lads..

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    Senior Member roccija's Avatar
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    Default "A SEAMAN' by George Skypeck 1992

    I put this on another site a while ago

    I WAS THAT WHICH OTHERS DID NOT WANT TO BE
    I WENT WHERE OTHERS FEARED TO GO
    AND DID WHAT OTHERS FAILED TO DO.

    I HAVE SEEN THE FACE OF TERROR
    AND FELT THE STINGING COLD OF FEAR
    I HAVE CRIED, PAINED, AND HOPED.

    BUT MOST OF ALL,
    HAVE LIVED TIMES THAT OTHERS WOULD SAY
    WERE BEST FORGOTTEN.

    AT LEAST SOMEDAY, I WILLBE ABLE TO SAY
    THAT I WAS VERY PROUD OF WHAT I WAS
    .......A SEAMAN!!!!!!!


    Bob F

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    paddy Paddy's Avatar
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    Default The Atlantic

    Here in Watford I met a pensioner who originated from Vauxhall Road his name was Ronnie Carr and his Father had been a merchant seaman in the war. He told me that his Dad went on an Atlantic convoy and coming back from America the ship he was on got sunk by a German u boat. Ronnie?s Dad was lost at sea. Back in Liverpool Ronnie?s Mum had a few kids to feed. After being informed of his loss she applied to the shipping company and then to the admiralty for his wages receiving each time the same reply that was, because he did not complete the trip he signed up for he could not be paid. Apparently if you never got there and back you never got anything.
    Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
    Time held me green and dying
    Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

    Dylan Thomas

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    Senior Member roccija's Avatar
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    Default "RUSSIAN CONVOYS'

    Also posted in another site

    Have you ever thought what it must be like
    To face an Arctic winter storm?,
    From the deck of an ice-bound ship
    In the early light of dawn?.

    With the steel of the hull so cold to touch
    It would flay the skin from your hand,
    And nothing above , but a late gray sky,
    And far from a friendly land.

    With red rimmed eyes, and a face that is gaunt,
    The result of a forced lack of sleep,
    And nerves that are stretched beyond breaking point,
    As watch after watch you keep.

    Think how it feels to face danger and fear,
    In clothes that are wet through and cold,
    For hours and days, or long weeks on end,
    No wonder young men grew old.

    Do you know what it takes to face a foe,
    That you may never see or hear,
    Until the klaxon's shrill and strident blare
    Gives warning that they are near?.

    Can you guess how it is to see a friend
    Die a hard and lingering death,
    To be at his side and not show your tears
    As he draws his final breath?.

    Think how it feels to be one who has seen
    That dead friend weighted with lead,
    Consigned to a dark and friendless sea
    When the last Amen is said.

    If you can imagine all of these things,
    Then I ask you to spare a thought
    For those gallant men, who were heroes all,
    In the special war that they fought.

    Author unknown

    Bob F

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    Senior Member roccija's Avatar
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    Default Reply to "Paddy"


    Paddy, re the pensioner's father.
    Your pensioner is quite correct in telling you that if a ship was sunk or lost for
    any reason during the war, the survivors - if any - had their pay stopped
    immediately. In other words, the "articles" ( or agreement) they had signed had been broken - through no fault of their own, therefore they were no longer employed !!!.

    I guess I was very lucky, I was not torpedoed,- very close, but not quite !!.

    Bob F

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Roccija does'nt say so,but he is a veteran of the Russian convoys,that poem he posted has great meaning for him;he is the stuff that heroes are made of.

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    Member Ron B Manderson's Avatar
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    well said Brian
    He was there when they needed them, not feeding them.
    I have had the honour to meet this man, and he never ever mentions it.
    A gent I highly regard.
    Ron

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