Ancient Mariner

I am going to post a few more of my scribblings on Monkeymind so that won't get lost. Here's the first, my epic poem.

THE RHYMES OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

By Doc Walton

We set off to the sea, (my companions were three)
In a truck loaded down with our gear.
Cap’n Randy and me in the front feeling free
With the women plunked down in the rear.
Gus too was aboard, on our laps he was moored
When not up to his usual dog antics,
Like scratching the floor or attacking the door
Somewhat nervous but not really frantic.

The trip was a gas and the time warped and bent
As we drove o’er the mountain divide.
Our momentum was spent as we made our descent
When our road was blocked off by a slide.
There seemed nothing to do, but watch the work crew
Making haste to push out a clear lane.
Yet the hour we lost was not time we would rue,
I’ll give pause here and try to explain.

“Look there” cried a man pointing high to our right
Where a sloth wandered up a tall tree.
“And there” said a girl pointing left to a site
Are two more we could all plainly see.
Spotting the sloths is a rare natural treat
We were part of fortunate few.
We gave thanks to our stars and waved from our seats
Bidding bye, adios and adieu.

The sight of the sea filled us all with great glee
Though we viewed it from grim Almirante.
This backwater town offers little to see,
That it’s charming I truthfully can’t say.
It’s here in the heat and the oft dreadful stink
Where they taxi o’er water with focus.
So we parked safe and neat behind a chain link
And skimmed o’er the waves out to Bocas.







2.

Now this quaint isle place has a much better face
Than the pier we had quickly departed.
You could make a strong case that this sandy space
Helps you go from just warm to warm hearted.
It is here that you’ll see the fast future to be
Mixed carelessly with the near past.
Though a lot of the new suits us all to a T,
You hope some of the old will long last.

From there we would trip at a much slower clip
To the isle that housed our marina.
For there in a slip awaited our ship
Wondering when we would get there to clean-a.
A catamaran with the name Wanda Jean
She had docked there for months unattended.
While Randy and spouse built a house from a dream,
But were back now to make their boat splendid.

A boat on its own left awhile all alone
From wet air becomes mossy green.
Despite the loud moans and some long painful groans
To restore it the crew was quite keen.
So we rolled up our sleeves and set off to work
With pails of white vin’gar and water
Scrub off the stains and wash of the murk
Were the things that we did ‘cause we oughter.

In no time at all we had washed all the walls
Wanda Jean feeling much less inferior.
Though outside still appalled, inside she stood tall
As she glowed from her sparkling interior.
We dropped our work pails and unpacked our small bags
Then made ready for dinner afar.
We’d worked off our tails and were ready for gags
So we hoofed to the lone island bar.

We were so indisposed ‘cause the bar was shut closed
And our hunger demanded great haste.
So a cabbie we chose, by the water he posed
As we told him there’s no time to waste.
We flew ‘cross the sea like a bird in the dark
A seagull perhaps or a loon,
To a place for a fee where we could debark
Called The Blue Nasty Mermaid Saloon.
3.

It was there on a pier jutting over the sea
Para sailors aloft in the sky.
That we sipped a sweet wine and dined elegantly
Tilting back at the end with a sigh.
For despite its odd name, the real claim to fame
Of the Blue Nasty Mermaid Saloon
Has nothing to do with a nautical dame,
But its food served by light of the moon.

Back at the Jean we began to unwind
From our efforts at both fun and labor.
Our reflections on these I hope you won’t mind
Because we find them sweet moments to savor.
Now relaxed on the deck at the back of the boat,
My scotch and cigar come to play.
I opened my pad and carefully wrote,
“How could all this have been just one day?”

I am up with the sun and quick from the bed
To coffee and food at the table.
Maryellen’s the one, when all has been said,
For cooking’s both ready and able.
She and I softly chat about that and this
While our spouses continue to snooze.
As the day’s travel by we learn nothing’s amiss
They will sleep in the whole bloody cruise!

We’ve got buckets and brushes, rags and a hose
To get after the mildew and mold.
I’m down on the floor in a real awkward pose
Wondering how this idea I was sold.
It’s a beautiful day with the promise of play
When Wanda gets shiny anew.
So I roll up my sleeves and start to make hay
And my boat mates get after it too.

Randy’s over the side to the ‘neath water hull
A job needing his talents at scuba.
Scraping barnacles there is a task hardly dull
When you’re sucking your air through a tube-a.
Maryellen’s inside with her vinegar pail
Making sure things are clean in the galley,
Woowoo Charly’s with me cleaning decks by the rail
‘Cause she’s not just my wife, she’s my pally!
4.

Barnacles a word that I’ve often heard,
So I pondered its meaning one time.
Bar knuckle fights is prob’ly absurd,
But the pun there’s not really a crime.
Barn uncle however can make me a louse
When I say what pops into my mind
“Cause that one’s the uncle kicked out of the house
By an aunt feeling far less than kind.

With the humans at work on the muck and the murk
Gus found new friends furry and feathered.
With no cars as a perk and no long chain to jerk
He roamed his new island untethered.
At a point in the day when the sun had its way
And the heat was oppressive and grim,
From the shade where he lay, Gus decided to stray
And go for his first puppy swim.

From the edge of the shore to the boat at its moor
Measured water in yards about thirty.
From a rock Gus would soar to the watery floor
To swim ‘cross the channel like Gertie.
At the side of the boat I was happ’ly afloat
Just watching my dog from the dingy
It was later I’d gloat, I’d been there to take note
When my pet had his first water flingy.

Later that day in the town we would play
And I sang with a group on a pier.
Street singers they’d say, who sang for their pay
But would eagerly settle for beer.
“Matildas” the song where I sang along
And my efforts were really quite sound.
My vocals were good and my harmony strong
Yet I still wound up buying the round.

The best song that they gave, about which I’d rave
Was not one that I’d heard before.
You are given a choice of who you would save
That’s part of Calypso folklore.
Your ma and your wife are fighting for life
In the deep sea they’re both gonna drown.
A decision so rife, it’s sure to cause strife,
Which one do you bring back to town?
5.

“Pardon me” gleefully, sang the man with this song,
“But in this life I have but one mother.”
So you may disagree, if you think I am wrong,
“But a new wife I can get another!”
I coughed out my brew to laugh and to cheer
At this music so fun and so clever.
As I rejoined my crew and departed the pier,
I knew I’d remember it ever.

Just off the main drag on a nearby back street
We stopped for our groc’ry supplies.
Out front I would lag with the dog at my feet
While the women were making our buys.
A half dozen men were dancing quite near
Latin music played loud from their cars.
To passing mujeres they offered their beer
Which they poured into clear empty jars.

The men sang and clapped and the ladies did twirl
To the music both raucous and arty.
To the beat my feet tapped, even Gus was awhirl
As we joined this impromptu street party.
But the fun was short lived, when my ladies arrived
With satchels of foodstuffs galore.
My new friends I high fived as the girls and I strived
To haul or new goods to the shore.

Back at the Jean Cap’n Randy is seen
Working hard at installing new hatches.
We unpacked the bags and prepared the cuisine
While he finished off bolting the latches.
As the engines were tuned, from the speakers there crooned
Sweet music of Ella Fitzgerald.
We’d be setting off soon, at the wane of the moon
To see what the sunrise would herald.

It’s a beautiful morn and we’re quickly sea borne
Maryellen and I standing aft,
We are looking for shallows the captain to warn
For to cruise there you’d have to be daft.
You can see by the sea and the change in its color
Where boat bottom might eas’ly scrape down.
It was all news to me, that the water is duller
And where shallow it looks sort of brown.

6.
After roughly a mile, Randy says with a smile
You can pull up the sails if you please.
We’d been clear of the brown for a long goodly while
And now we had caught a nice breeze.
So we hauled on the ropes, just as happy as dopes
And away in the quiet we sailed.
But the weather said nope and we soon moved like mopes
As the wind dropped and suddenly failed.

Down comes the main sheet, folded neatly in pleats
To the cross beam lashed tightly and snug.
With foresail wrapped neat, it was hardly a feat
To move smartly with engines a-chug.
By the close of the day, we achieved the small bay
A lagoon really, with sev’ral fine features.
But the one that held sway, I’m forced here to say
Were the nearly invisible creatures.

No-see-ums the term that’s most often heard
For these nasty and prolific blighters.
It’s truth and it’s firm, it’s totally “Word”
When it’s said they are vicious mean biters.
Like vampire bats they fly out in the night
In search of exposed tender skin.
Trapped inside like rats, we had no way to fight
We waited for sun-up to win.

I’ve seen movies two, ‘bout lagoons black and blue
The first dreadful the other quite scary.
Gill-man gets a boo and escapes from a zoo
While a teen grows up tall dark and hairy.
The Black had a plot, the Blue really not
Two monsters prowling water and fields.
The wrong one gets shot on the Hollywood lot
“Cause the other grows up as Brooke Shields.

When old sol climbs real high and the ‘Seeums all die
And the water looks cool and inviting
In the dinghy we fly to a place by and by
That is hard to describe in rhyme writing.
For it’s over the side in snorkeling gear
To a world that is wondrous and new.
With flippers I glide through the water so clear
And in soft silence I cherish the view.
7.
I could wax on and on in a poetic way
About the strange beauty I saw.
But a laugh is my pay at the end of the day
It’s a thing I think should be made law.
Now a dinghy’s a craft that’s made fore and aft
Of canvas in which you pump air.
I was climbing abaft this dumb bobbing raft
Trying might’ly but getting nowhere.

I pulled and I tugged trying hard to heave in
But the sea and my weight kept me down.
I clung and I hugged clearing only my chin
Wond’ring how far the swim was to town.
Maryellen arrived and helped save the day
By teaching then showing me how.
You kick with your fins in a serious way
Then leap up when she cries out “Now!”

You then cling to the edge like a man on a ledge
Who has grabbed a hold over the top.
You vow, pray and pledge and your bets you don’t hedge
As you scramble and tumble and plop.
Down into the boat and once more afloat
Remembering your goofy sea gaffe.
You grin, even gloat, ‘cause that’s all she wrote,
At that picture you just have to laugh.

Next day there was rain and some sore muscle pain
So into the game box we’d dabble.
My intent was quite plain ‘cause clearly I’m vain
‘Bout my skill at the board known as Scrabble.
Right after the rout with the sun coming out
We dove from the boat to the sea.
So that Gus wouldn’t pout or loudly dog shout
On a cushion he swam next to me.

M. E. and Charly, such a sight you should see
As they bobbed in the old ocean blue.
Esther Williams would be’s, with their synchronized knees
MGM should send lawyers to sue.
But this happy pair would give not a care
That the movies would quick send them packing.
They laughed at their flair and shook their wet hair
Not worried that their skills were lacking.

8.
Later that night we watched the big fight
At a place called the old Alamo.
It didn’t seem right, our boys lacking in might
Reinforcements just got there too slow.
So we plugged in a race, ‘cross a dry desert place
Where the wind and the sand were the foe.
We set a fast pace for the others to chase
And won with our horse Hidalgo.

In dugout canoes native peoples would cruise
To our boat peddling art, toys and such.
It’s easy to choose and there’s little to lose
‘Cause whatever you pick won’t cost much.
Charly fancied a turtle and a funky old rabbit
Each carved from a small black of wood.
It’s not much of a hurdle, so we’ve made it a habit
To spend where the bucks do some good.

The very next day off an island we’d lay
In a place after which we had hankered.
It was here we would stay, to scout and to play
So we’d dropped sail and hastily anchored.
We had spoke ship to shore, got permission to tour
This island where few folks are seen.
We learned plants and more, even ‘bout cocoa lore
From the owners named Dave and Lin Green.

We wandered their finca about which I’d thinka
For days after we had gone home.
On their isle they’d tinka with nary a blinka
Thirty acres were theirs to just roam.
There were caimans and monkeys and tropical plants,
They could grow almost all their own food.
When their feelings got funky like ants in your pants
Take a boat to a bar, change your mood.

This last was a plan, we agreed to a man
Was something we just had to do.
In Dave’s motorized pan ‘cross the water we ran
To dine at a place that he knew.
It was there we would eat and otherwise fete
At a table set fit for a king.
It was fish and not meat, the drinks were served neat
Of the bill I could happily sing.

9.
Out back of the place was a small island space
Where the natives grew fruit and raised chickens.
With his happy dog face, back there Gus would race
‘Cause he needed to go like the dickens.
Tied up to the pen so she just couldn’t flee
As a kind of production egg booster,
Was a big fat scared hen, whose fate was to be
Continually raped by a rooster.

Now onto this fuss comes our brave fearless Gus
With no malice aforethought intended,
But he noticed her truss and the wild rooster lust
And decided she must be defended.
So into the fray like a dog in a play
Leaps my Gus with bared teeth and a growl.
His only real pay was in saving the day
And preventing a murder most foul.

Now I’m chasing the pup, while the rooster he’s after,
We’re making a Mad Mad World scene.
I’m not sure what’s up, but behind me there’s laughter,
Now what in the world can that mean?
A crowd’s gathered round to witness the clown
With a howl and a cheer and applause,
As he falls to the ground to hold his dog down
And rescue the foul from his paws.

No harm has been done, but son-of-a-gun
I’d ended with egg on my face.
To Gus it was fun to have birds on the run
While I chased him all over the place.
But now he was tied to a leash at my side
The whole episode quite forgotten.
As I hid my red face I boasted and lied
That I’d drown him that damn dog’s so rotten.

The following day we left Dolphin Bay
And set sail once again out to sea.
For come as it may, we’d decided to play
At a place by the way dubbed Crawl Key.
It was our firm belief that out there lay a reef
Which we sailed to ‘midst dark skies and thunder.
We had nary a beef as we got our relief
From the weather we’d carefully cruised under.


10.
For the very next morn the sun was reborn
And blazed in the sky high above.
O’er the side we were borne not feeling forlorn
To the water we’d quick come to love.
Snork’ling all round the deep, like a joyous dream sleep
We swam through the strange coral world.
These memories we’d keep and this happiness reap
As the wonders of sea life unfurled.

Lobster’s the lunch Randy’s bought on a hunch
From a guy paddling in his Cayuga.
We boiled and crunched and wolfishly munched
Got a bit in my throat honked a loogah.
Then came the last night and the heat was a fright
The air was as still as you please.
We choose not to fight, kept cold beers in plain sight
And calmly awaited the breeze.

We shed not a tear as we docked at the pier
For all things must come to an end.
And this end was near, (we were damn low on beer)
So homeward we’d just have to wend.
But first to the spars that were down at the bar
Our goodbyes to them we gave with feeling.
One last look at the stars and the old salty tars
And a glance at what hung from the ceiling.

‘Tis a naked mermaid that hangs there in the shade
No more than four feet out of reach.
Much attention is paid (though she never gets laid)
To this half fish who’s really a peach.
Though she hangs there with charm, there’s no cause for alarm
Even though someone might try to woo her,
Because even a smarm would cause himself harm
As there’s really no way he could do her.

The next day we took float on a taxicab boat
And sailed back to grim Almirante.
Where I made a smart note that I hastily wrote
‘Bout this being a hell strictly Dante.
Now a bit of bad luck as we retrieved the truck
For from it we’d too quickly fled.
Cap’n Randy said “ruck” or some word rhymed with muck
When hearing the batt’ry was dead.


11.
So an hour would pass as we lounged ‘bout the grass
A thing not to pause and to worry.
Though not actually a gas, what the hell and alas
There really was no cause to hurry.
We’d be home soon enough, the long drive held good stuff
For we laughed and we talked…reminisced
Being home won’t be tough ‘cause our lives just ain’t rough
But that Bocas will surely be missed.

Well I’ve gone round and round but no ending I’ve found
That will garner a laugh or a tear.
And I know this must sound like around I have clowned
But there’s one thing I still have to fear.
If this tome doesn’t end I will go round the bend
Just rhyming and rhyming to suit me.
And if this is the trend, my life don’t defend,
Just take out your gun and please shoot me.

Ha!