Monday, August 24, 2015

April 2012 | Voyage to the Painted Isles



The Artist sets sail
fantasy parting in its wake
anchors aweigh
with high hopes in the heart

A long journey at sea
many a man has died
gave up midway
the toil too much to bear

Inspire, there's a good lass
voice like a Siren
pulls like the waves
wax and wane, rise and fall

No compass or direction
no bos'n to spur you on
just the howl of hunger
your ribs, sharpened edges

Discarded ideas adrift
scattered far and near
carried by the water
messages unbottled to sink


A graveyard of vessels
ne'er you mind, child
this ship will rise
no depth can conquer

Run aground, we may
circle in endless blue
listless and lost
but the stars do not fail

Salty hands may come
crawl upon the deck
slice through hearts
but the lighthouse shines yet

Sunrise will bring light
breath into the lifeless
guide the gifted fingers
'cross the canvas of the sky.

Voyage to the Painted Isles | By Bryn Poliwczynski

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