Marine Poem

We are the mariners of our own home,
those who set out to travel God’s
virgin lands as well as those modern sprawls
which were founded by classical hands.
We set out in the oceans, skies to roam
those ideals which all our parents said
were out of reach for humans—ever—said.

And all our parents’ minds and bodies were dams,
which held their emotions—souls—in decay
as doubtful thought would stop them everyday
from going through with what they really want.
And everything they hoped for would again
fall from their grasp and into the abyss,
the void, the null, and fall into dismiss.

But so we rebel from their sorrow. Stomp
into the void with pride and fire, heart,
and all those things which gave to us an art
of madness—optimism in a way.
But both are things which give our step its romp,
and launch us forward—launch into sometime,
and leave us all with the sweet scent of lime.

So all these poems hark me to the day
when I surround myself with things I love,
and I am free and fly as were a dove;
for all we know we cannot be alone.
So through all this I hope that we can stay
forever, minds intertwined in Virtue,
as friends, lovers. and ship—including you.

We are the mariners of our own home.