Poetic prompts adrift
Captain of Her Fate
The Captain, ship and navigator of it all
Man caught swabbing the decks, bloodstained, tar-laden oak beneath the footsteps of the others, stuck listening to barking orders from the helm. Projected misery, unsolicited panic-stricken seamen zombified and liquefied elixirs to numb the memories of yesteryear.
Trembles tempered flesh, white seen in dilated pupil’s gaze, glimpses of time gone by waysides between future and present destiny. Buried below the freeboard, springing between the cracks and peepholes; seawards swells bringing the unresolved, unmet & disowned back to the light of my awareness.
Protected for so long by Captain and first mate’s barking dog, false securities bind another to unload dirtiest of laundries overboard, clouding the seven seas, loosening the shackles once bitten twice shy of rocking yet another boat.
Yet swabbie continues battening down the hatches, fortnights, and perfect storms over-powered, and over-bearing are the steaks last seen charbroiling on the Barbie down under. Gasping for air, straws blowhole cutting through thickened layered troposphere; letting go pain-staking claim of all existence, self-cleaning ovens unfreezing the body armor, it is time for naked in the flesh.
Pontus calls out to the herded mammals of shaken not stirred seafaring gems of a tale, Proteus echoing thunderous calls swelling mounting nay to the calming, Poseidon charges forth embodying the abyss before, latter and present-day saints giving breath be sure.
No longer wishing to play the role of Gilligan first to skipper, too painful is the sabretooth tiger shark gnawing at the hide. Yet another layer beneath the berth, afterdecks breach natural currents flowing through, washing sinners only chance at atonement ashore. Self-actualized assimilate, inhibiting the communion and playful interaction with the Universe — nix that one in the stern.
Gaping holes on portside bleeding through crew’s temperament, aside from affixed on the stars gazing stare; swabbie that is no longer, taking baby steps towards the quarterdeck, fumbling for skeleton keys left behind closet’s door. Witnessing breaches in the britches of short-lived one-sided anamnesis, owning the very places I leak out my own power.
Reaching the inner chambers whilst controls to steering and calling up more power from the engine-rooms full-throttled circuitry and mechanical engineering. From man to swabbie, Pontus to Tridents energetic calling to Universal truth-slayers, dreamers, and invictus’ Captain of her fate, I am the Captain, ship and navigator of it all.
~Ani Po
I want to tell you that I intended on writing something else to one of the daily prompts. Still, universal tugging at hand-strings, like a puppeteer doing spirit’s bidding, my world spun around the whole production and journey of sorts, squid’s spirit a talking through.
From start to finish, yet left undone, we the Skipper, Pontus or embodiment of All there Is becoming. We are this or that, perceptual beings and thought-filled pieces of existence.
Thank you, Diana C., for steering this ship called KTHT, for the walls are talking of this family you have brought to the table. Nourishing souls, empowering the same, my prompts went a muck cutting through uncharted territories, if you may.
Monday: Bringing the unresolved, unmet & disowned back to the light of my awareness
Tuesday: I am the captain, ship and navigator of it all
Wednesday: Unfreezing the body armor
Thursday: Owning the very places I leak out my own power
Friday: Inhibiting the communion & playful interaction with the Universe
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