THE OPEN SEA
" ... the not-yet-subsided sea rolled in long slow billows of mighty bulk, and striving
in the Pequod's gurgling track, pushed her on like giants' palms outspread."
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Chapter 83 – Jonah Historically Regarded
With all the time in the world,
a man can gaze at the horizon,
over a flat sea,
and ponder Jonah’s story
from every angle,
forming his own
Opinion.
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Chapter 51 – The Spirit Spout
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The waves rolled by like scrolls of silver.
til finally -‘Thar she blows!’
Whether truth, imagining
or wishful thinking -
who could tell . . .
No whale could be found.
And day followed day
followed day,
with only birds to jar the
Silence
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Chapter 52– The Albatross
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Bearded, bedraggled kinsmen
sail silently past
in a rusted ship,
the wind carrying them
towards the end of their circle,
ending where they began.
Schools of fish follow
as they leave the Pequod behind.
Is this our future?
Our own circuitous route
feels endless, pointless,
a barren maze,
with even Ahab subdued.
Chapter 53 – The Gam
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A passing ship stops,
offering whaling
and weather reports
and the crew of the Pequod
rushes to the rail to greet it.
Oh, the relief of different faces!
Maybe a chat with an old friend
of dear domestic things,
Perhaps a letter
for the fortunate few
from a year ago or two,
offering precious news
of
Home.
Chapter 58 – Brit
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We mow through
the yellow feeding fields
their home
their harvest
their sea
without an inkling
we have no right to do so.
“The cannibalism of the sea,”
says Man,
“Tis merely nature’s balance.”
But Man is the intruder here,
an interloper from
the most docile earth,
who makes it
his life’s work
to Kill.
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Chapter 59 – Squid
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A profound hush surrounds the Pequod
as it drifts in the middle of nowhere
with a stillness almost preternatural
spread over the sea.
At such a time,
what goes on inside
a sailor’s mind?
Ennui?
Thoughts of home?
Other ways to earn a living?
As a man looks out
over endless nothingness
do thoughts work busily
inside his skull . . . or
is Ismael an
Anomaly?
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Chapter 81 – The Pequod Meets The Virgin
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Ungrateful dogs,
down on yer knees.
Ye've got no business here
These are our seas!
Pathetic ye are,
with no oil of yer own,
You do not belong here
so why not go home.
Will ya burst a blood vessel, lads?
Spit fire or not?
A humped back old whale
is better than naught
So snag it and you’ll have
Hogshead in yer pot
Comon, snag it and you’ll have
Hogshead in yer pot
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Chapter 91 – The Pequod Meets the Rosebud
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A ship is its own domain
Out here at sea
Every man for himself
No brothers are we
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I owe you nothing
Don’t need your name
Instead I’ll deceive you
We’re not the same
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Listen to my story
As faithless as can be
About the sorry danger
Of floating debris
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The Pequod’s guile
The Rosebud’s shame
Par for the course
In the whaling game.
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Chapter 114 – The Gilder
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Soothing waters
Warm sunshine
Utter quiet, save the lap
of gentle waves.
No time,
only this moment,
to hear oneself think
and even thoughts are calm.
Man is not always greedy,
blood–thirsty and
hungry to conquer.
On such a day,
a man meets his other self,
his better self.
Would it would last
forever.
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Chapter 124 – The Needle.
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After raging weather,
glorious, soothing sunlight
warms sea and ship and,
like giants' palms outspread,
enormous swells lazily
nudge the ship along.
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But wait – in which direction?
With a dose of reality
and geography,
our Captain breaks the sun’s spell
and sets the Pequod
back on course.
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