captain cur

Lightening shears the darkened skies
exposing faceless demons
whose voices roll and echoes long
express their morbid treason

against god, against man,
as they mount each rising swell
that smashes down my stricken ship
with the waterfalls of hell.

A blackened cloud hides the hand
of fates intent and mammoth purpose
that grips the tip of the topsails mast,
that steadies and supports us

in trials that test the pitch
filled seams of hollow boats,
that wears down human flesh
and sheds the skin that coats

the temporal spirit that thrives and lives
despite our base afflictions
that rises above the diseased mind
of criminal addictions,

Do I possess the will to break
the bestial need to hunt,
or wear the squalid shame of men
who fail on every front.

—  Captain Cur, Demon Seas, Part 2
The Road to Perdition

She said she was a fallen angel.
I partly believed it because the bar was closing
and she looked anything but angelic.
She had rust colored hair and a worn glow.

I asked her; ‘What are you doing, later.’
She said; 'I am going to walk the road to Perdition.’
I asked; 'What town is that in? ’
I got her to smile.

I told her I would give her a lift.
I brought her to my place.
She said nothing in the ride.

I asked; 'What do you drink? ’
She answered; 'Blood red wine.’
I poured her some old merlot.
I stroked her hair and kissed her.
It was forced.
I relaxed.

She took off her blouse.

She was bruised all over.
I asked her where she got the bruises.
She said; 'Michael gave them to me when he cast me out.’
I thought, the archangel or a cruel boyfriend.
I didn’t press.

She asked me to put on some music
and then she danced for me,
it was a kind of awkward teasing dance.
I swallowed my drink.

She was really quite pretty
when you picked through all the hazards.
She was completely naked now.
I poured myself a double.

I got up and danced with her.
I stroked her back.
I asked about her wings.
She said; 'Life has stripped them and I can no longer fly.’

I rolled a joint and got her high.

That is the night I slept with a fallen angel.
In the morning
she would be walking the road to Perdition
and I would be living in my house of ruin.

The Road to Perdition

She said she was a fallen angel.
I partly believed it because the bar was closing
and she looked anything but angelic.
She had rust colored hair and a worn glow.

I asked her; ‘What are you doing, later.’
She said; 'I am going to walk the road to Perdition.’
I asked; 'What town is that in? ’
I got her to smile.

I told her I would give her a lift.
I brought her to my place.
She said nothing in the ride.

I asked; 'What do you drink? ’
She answered; 'Blood red wine.’
I poured her some old merlot.
I stroked her hair and kissed her.
It was forced.
I relaxed.

She took off her blouse.

She was bruised all over.
I asked her where she got the bruises.
She said; 'Michael gave them to me when he cast me out.’
I thought, the archangel or a cruel boyfriend.
I didn’t press.

She asked me to put on some music
and then she danced for me,
it was a kind of awkward teasing dance.
I swallowed my drink.

She was really quite pretty
when you picked through all the hazards.
She was completely naked now.
I poured myself a double.

I got up and danced with her.
I stroked her back.
I asked about her wings.
She said; 'Life has stripped them and I can no longer fly.’

I rolled a joint and got her high.

That is the night I slept with a fallen angel.
In the morning
she would be walking the road to Perdition
and I would be living in my house of ruin.

Captain Cur

Songbook Of My Heart

Words of love that sing forever
fill the void that plagues my soul
in the kiss of first time lovers
linger sounds that form new worlds.

Those I loved who came before me,
those I love when I depart
I sing this present moment
from the songbook of my heart.

This world that does excite me;
this world that brings me pain,
the journeys that have taught me
and the journey that remains.

Lifetime the budding flower
dreams which make it grow
truth tills the soils richness
in the greening of my soul.

How When I will Reach You

How when I will reach you; 
I will climb tall to you mountains, 
I will flow swift to you fountains, 
I will fly high to you breeze strong, 
I will sing notes to you wind song, 
I will walk with you share air, 
I will breathe to you scent hair, 
I will look gently to you fair form, 
I will beg to see you eyes turn, 
I will touch to you sweet face, 
I will bow to you proud grace, 
I will turn you to gaze round, 
I in you to be found.

How then I will know you.
How then I will kiss you.
How then I will love you.

Captain Cur

The Road to Perdition, Verse III

I thought I saw her falling
while I was harvesting in the cornfield.

I was alone,
my wife was dead,
and I was in despair.
I got off the tractor
and found her lying on the dirt.

She was naked and had wings.

This could not be real,
just like when I would think
my wife was setting the table.

I picked her up and carried her to the house.
Her wings were badly damaged.
I laid her in the guest bed.
It had not been used in years.

I covered her and sat and waited.

When she awoke she said,
“Teach me the ways of the flesh.”

She stayed for sixty days.

I asked her why she had to go.
She said; “I must find my place in the world.”

Each evening after prayers,
I would go to my bedroom
and think of my wife on the bed
and remember these words spoken
in her soft melodic voice;
“I want to be one with your flesh.”

I would take my gun,
empty the chambers,
press it to my temple
and pull the trigger.

I was trying to forget.

I knew one night
I would forget to empty the chamber.

The angel left with nothing.

I used to bring her the feathers
to her wings when they fell off.
When they were completely gone
I tended the open wounds on her back.

I thought about the feathers.

I once showed her a large chest
that contained things belonging to my wife.
I had given everything away
and it sat empty, like me.

I opened it.

She had knitted her feathers into a large quilt.
She left me a note, it read, “Forget.”

After prayers, I would lie under the quilt
and forget about the gun.

Captain Cur

Lovers Bound to Lovers

Why do I need so much of you?
What is it that I am hoping you will satisfy?
Can you fill my void?
Will you become my vice,
an unshakeable habit?
Will you dictate to my desire?
How long will you stay?

I am unresolved in many ways.

When I see you each first time,
you become more beautiful,
more beautiful than the last.
I commit idolatry because I worship you,
your body, the heat, the softness,
the texture of your mouth.
Against you I press.

I submit to the bondage of your flesh.

Your eyes quite still,
mesmerizing me with their calm
irresistible call, because you did not resist me,
but pulled me in with arms
incredibly strong and light.
Arms I had searched for and finally found.

Slowly, slowly, softly I am bound.

I am hungry for you,
my hunger ravenous.
I want to devour you.
I want to engulf you and take you into myself
and satisfy myself by using each entrance to you,
and never retract myself, but stay unresolved inside of you,
bound to your flesh and you bound to mine.

Lovers bound to lovers for all time.

Captain Cur

Endless Blue! Endless Sea!

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Endless blue! Endless sea!
Oh! Fluid pulse of eternity.
Here I set my distant sight
on the full moon’s guiding light.

Through the shoals of discontent
and the rainbows spectrum bent
by the crystal water’s glare
from sol’s rising restive stare;

stalling winds and bruising rains;
lightening sparks on white tipped plains;
fire skies and thunders dread;
quivering sails on slender threads;

my ship waylaid, my soul reborn
on a tidal swell, in the coming storm.
Here I sing this lay to thee,
Endless blue! Endless sea!

I love you….. with;

pirate heart and pirate soul,
ocean’s stillness, ocean’s flow,
pirate fears on stormy nights,
wistful tears on points of light,

pirate shores and distant lands,
pirate’s raw yet steadfast hands,
pirate falls, flowing streams,
secret caverns, jetting springs,

lapping waves round earthen bands,
pirate’s pure white unbleached sands,
simple language, primal truth,
pirate age and pirate youth,

summer’s myth and healing breeze,
towering glaciers boastful freeze,
autumn’s soft low hanging moon
and her rays pale crescent swoon,

spring’s new life, green island coves,
budding blooms and, a pirate rose!

At the end of days,
my pirate’s grave,
in hardened mud
under snowy ice.

I loved you….. with

my pirate’s blood,
my pirate’s life.

Captain Cur