The Pirate

A poem from the Rumbles from the Grinder series

The dam broke
Waters rising, gushing, circling, circumventing,
tapping, bellowing, emerging, possessing, finalizing…
We’re still searching for the rescue boat
News has it that it drowned at quay.

Pity.

What shall happen to the ones left on the new-born island?
Mother and child, they don’t know how to swim.
Two refugees trapped in a trailer of oblivion.
Out of reach, out of words, out of fear.
They will have to endure.

The island.

Forever protected by an ocean of chores
Forever imprisoned in a barrel of imaginings
The island shall rest
At the bottom of the new-born lake.
And wait, and hope, and dream, and dream, and dream…

Dream, dream, dream, dream,
dream, dream, dream, dream…
Dream.

They milk the machinery of mind.
They hover over the puppies of hope.
They erect for fear of collapsing.
They write off fairy tale calendars and certified money orders, which bounce.
A feverish century of erroneous memories will be cast into stone
Just for safekeeping.

- What? Who’s this?
A mast surfacing? Can this be?

- No.

’Tis only a passing ghost ship,
The pirate long dead and whispering:
“Take me with you. Within the very arms of darkness
I’m still dying.
Care for me.”
Mother and child, still crowned with the gift of innocence,
Startled by this demand, will have to oblige.
No choice.

The pirate isn’t unkind. Merely tyrannical.

Ashamed of his exploits, oblivious to the ethereal substance of his vessel
He coughs, while they dream. Then he leaves…
No one has ever asked what killed the ship. No one has dared.

-No worry. It is, now…
…way, way gone.

Mother and child, wake up!
The water! The water has receded.
A path…

It is safe? The child tiptoes, the mother struggles. It’s what she knows.

The way’s muddy, muggy, rocky, sticky, gluey, steamy, gummy, clammy, and, yes, yes, tacky, but it’s there.

Let us not wait for the turn of tide.

Note: The Rumbles from the Grinder series talk about experiences of my childhood with a ex-communicated priest and nun as father and mother, as well as my struggles with childhood rape, obesity and abandonement. It is written as catharsis but also to help others who are still dealing with such trauma.