pirate day (click here to download)

Hey, to follow up with the new chant poem Jeff posted, here's an audio poem to boot. It's about pirates!

stab! the sword swayed in sand

pirates were hiding in the sand,
ready to pounce on poor old Davy Jones
the hero.

he was a wanted man
but only because of mistaken identity
and so he was running down the coast,
looking for the thief who
stole the woman’s smile.

the pirates grunted and pretended to be
men as monsters and each laughed in his head
when he thought about the promise of
gold and sharp rusty blades;
the leader was angry because
inside
he still felt childish
and only in horrible
id ways of
trying to fuck unfuck.

Davy Jones and
his gallant blonde hair
looked hitherto and thitherto
around the circumference
of things and imagined an ugly officer coming to
arrest him for a mistake and a silence;

he ran
he ran.

the pirates saw him,
running with sun on cheeks and eyes a blue,
and they pounced from the sand
angry as stepped on crabs discarded.

“We come for your life,
hero of misfortune”

Davy Jones froze and made a face
terrible enough to die in
and any woman would have;

he needed to find a pretty smile.
Did these pirates have it?

the head pirate with a tall silver tipped
dark hat and a failing for flattering himself
took steps forward and forward Davy Jones,
his sword swaying out and
cutting dull at ocean mist,
wanting forever freedom.

Davy Jones screamed un-heroically and
made to flee and to fly and to never gamble his face.

“but I’m the hero”
he whispered
and turned despite himself to face the terrible pirate king.

“Have at ye! Mangy cur!”
Davy Jones
Davy Jones sang.

a woman,
maybe the pretty woman with a smile,
looked on from her house on the beach,
dreaming that this be not fantasy or fairy tale
and watched as our hero dove
out of the way as the lead ugly
pirate lunged forth and missed Davy Jones.

he gave a laugh and sped off,
running again;

all the pirates let out ‘blast it all’s'
and gave undulant chase.

the ugly pirate sat still,
sword plunged in the sand,
and imagined a time when he wanted to
be other then the villain,

to be a doctor
or judge
or truant officer.

he wanly looked up weakly
to the house
and caught eyes with the woman
alone and dressed blonde.

maybe she gave him a smile,
if only out of humor,
if only because she needed to give something anyway
before she withered.

the villainous not so villainous pirate stood up and
yielded a roar and tossed his blade high into the air,
letting it fly where it may,
fall where it wanted,
and watched as it stuck stubborn from a lid of luminous sand;

water was soon surely to take the blade
with it into the unknowable sea.

the pirate hung his head low and turned to
where his amiable men had chased Davy Jones the hero;

he trotted away,
following what was destiny but
thinking of prettier things,
lonely women, hearts of twist.

Only in the past could he unfold himself and
find answers to riddles and maybe change;

maybe his Davy Jones.

he ran down the beach in search of pirates