Portland Poetry
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
A Time Before
The island appeared from the parting mist
The cliffs rise from rocky broken bones
Surging tides of centuries, laid waste
And cleansed this artery of stone
On the cliffs above, a gallery of cradled nests of lamps
White light for the wreckers moth
Beneath the baleful eye
Rests the fishermen's windswept homes
Windows glowed with warmth
Black ranges chuckle, glowing red
Driftwood, kindling piled against the shed
Gallows, timbers thick as stilted trees
Hunch over stalwart fishing boats
Waiting to be lowered by block and tackle
Into the islands gale flung seas
With the wind, comes the cracked buoy's bell
Warning of four racing tides
The full flood sweeps in across the rocks
Dark seaweed with that ozone smell
Dragged from below these sweating cliffs
Spume filled waves leave foam
As thick as snow upon the windswept roofs
Flotsam, limbs of broken trees
Washed up and flung across a shingled beach
Lay as broken skeletons, kindling
For the men who dare and fish these seas
As the wind abates, seas ebbing
Leaving mountain bones of broken stones
Shingle, stretching towards the land
An isthmus created by the storms applause
Stretching out towards the distant shores.
My Portland
High above me, the blackened crest
Crack and cave festooned
Lit by the distant frosted glaze
Cave mouths the scars of wounds
Charging waves, flooding
Surged by the four flung tides
Kelp trees uprooted by the storm
Lat discarded, exhausted by their ride
The booming echo of the foghorn
Now the fog sweeps across the land
Sugar rock, the coloured lighthouse
With its red-white band
Dizzy arcs of white sugar-laced light
Brings shadows, a ghostly hand
Dripping, as though fingers leaking blood
Onto the yellow washed out sand
Long shadows of the slipping gallows
Lean across the black glossed rock
Pointing to the carvel scullers
Rusted chain with orange lock
Far out in the shadowed seas
The blinking rusted sewer buoy
Bobs, steel wire like waving hands
Beckons, as though ship ahoy
Grey light, fingers leaking through the blind
Soft red eyes belay the rising sun
Yellow-beaked gulls rise, a curtain call
The morning chorus has begun.
Portland
This island, this out-thrust spit of land
At the end of miles of stone
Where on the farthest cliff-top
A lighthouse stands alone
At sea, four rushing tides collide
Sending giant waves against the cliffs
Committing suicide
Leaving scars of giant caves
Filled with dripping stalactites
Long dead blackened dragon's teeth
Open mouthed about to bite
Spray blown by the wind
Falls where only shadows walk
And sweeps across the dark faced quarries
Disturbing pools of whitened chalk
Under travelling skies and empty shores
Against the wind only seagulls soar.
The Menu
Rushing water, teeth eroding stone
Spray suspended over a brightly coloured rainbow
Descending a catalytic cliff
Disappearing into a catacomb of caves
Spewing torrents into a gorge
Of satisfaction
A menu of nature
Eating the life of Earth.
Bligh's Sonnet
We sailed toward the grinning full moon's light
The spindrift of the waves obscured this sight
As the gale blew to a full fledged storm
Closer we sailed, tacking towards the dawn
Greying of this dark night, we saw the reef
With massive waves that were beyond belief
Below the cliffs, a passage for a ship
This could be the end of the Bounty's trip
Gallants furled, just mizzen for the seas rage
Helm over, we sailed this raging passage
Scraping the hull with razor sharpened stone
She sailed magnificently alone
At anchor below the palm covered beach
Tahiti, this paradise we did reach.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
The poetry in this book covers the beautiful county of Dorset, Thomas Hardy country, there are many poems about Portland, an Island that reaches out into the English Channel, this island is where most of the stone that Sir Christopher Wren used to build the most prominent buildings in London, Portland Stone.
You will read poetry of the sea, poetry from before the mast, sailing ships, poetry about the massive tankers carrying crude oil, storms and hurricanes that seamen took for granted, poetry of nature with a twist.
You will read classic poetry, poetry that will make you laugh, and poetry you have never read before in this unusual book written by a retired merchant seaman.
You will read stories of ships that have sunk, ghost ships, stories about the seven seas, the poet takes you through real events to the supernatural, and then takes you through a tour of the unusual Island of Portland.
Portland was an island, folklore then tells of a massive storm, when the storm subsided it left banks of shingle, now called Chesil Beach that now connects the island to the mainland of Dorset.
The poet has written of this event and also tells the reader of the wonders of this amazing Island.
About the Author
The author was born on the Island of Portland, Dorset. As a boy he used to spend most of his time watching the ships sailing through the English Channel, at the age of fifteen he decided to join the British Merchant Navy.
He spent twelve weeks of training on a vessel anchored into the Severn River in Gloucester, called 'Vindicatrix' and then joined his first ship in 1959, the Cunard White Star liner 'Ivernia' picking up Canadan occupation troops from Germany and returning them home to Halifax.
He crewed other great ocean liners, and acted as quartermaster (helmsman) on the Cunard Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth.
He then spent twenty five years at sea, sailing on many other different shipping companies, he often jumped ship and lived ashore in many countries, Australia, New Zealand and then rejoining other ships to make his way home.
When he tired of the sea he took a contract as rigger, working in the South African gold mines, from sailing the seas, then working two miles underground.
He returned to England and worked as an engineer until an accident made him retire, he now lives in Lincolnshire.
He started writing poetry after he retired and has been writing ever since. In 2007 he was voted poet of the year by an American web site, Echoes of My Heart.
He continues writing novels and poetry.