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Array
(
[sid] => 161067
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => voyage
[time] => 2010-07-10 06:54:23
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Rumors were birthed mysteriously & murmured, quietly. . . so as not to vex. Pungent air, sea-spray combined with salt & swelter, heat & wind. . . finally mounted what some poor souls would come to know as Neptune's Curse. That sickly skin, torturous nostrils, lips more like sand-paper & lastly, that sorely, splintered orb. That squinting eye, that huddled above the debased constenance of what used to be, a fresher pallor. All succumbed. No quarter was given. A terrible many passed, almost gratefully, into the hand of God, as it reached across the breadth & depth, unbiased. So. . . many were culled, the weak, the brave, the unfortunate, the novel, the mundane. Even the barers of innocence took it to their watery graves. Deep into the night, galant men steeled themselves against howling, perilous storms, tethered tightly to a reeling, raging tempest of a lass. Bow & stern, every deck, each dimension creaked & groaned, bucked & heaved under the onslaught of a merciless depth. Each rusting bolt & every brittle bone knew it's precarious station. Chaos weathered & calmed. Whispers coagulated to hushed, mis-spent breath. No one dared to speak against their host. Still, the once glib, seemingly generous offer of passage, gradually revealed black signs of change. Once, having filled every man, woman & babe with a sense of joy & renewal, the essense of the proverbial tide seemed to shift. The thrill of adventure had held promise & much, much more. A brave new world. This earlier vision now carried overtures of servitude & angst. Dark tones, restlessly waiting, bided time in the tumultuous hearts of the masses. Everyone felt more sharply, a rise & fall, the ebbing of some impending doom. Not so unlike the oceanic maw that churned & toiled below. No accomodation could ease the pain of exile. . . nor the sting of fear. No. . . The journey, all told, had begun somewhat a gracious necessity. Endless seas meeting a seemingly vast, ovacious sky. Merging at the crux of the horizon, colours swelled their given pigment. Transposed. . . transcended. . . Reflection danced & licked itself into a mirrored frenzy. The westward grandeur stretched, seamlessly like time, second by strained second, into nuances of ever after. Ribbons of wave-birth rode upon liquid crests. Sun-kissed in infancy, tides congealed, coalesed, suspended in thankless spray & foam, not turning back. . . until the flow turns surge. . . burst frothy molecules upon the sultry shore of that distant home. . . that newly washed thanksgiving that nameless foundling where the cradling will be absolute. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 290 [topic] => 46 [informant] => elle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => didactic )
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