Tin Can Navy

She is cool gray steel, slicing darkest sea
Crewed by crazed youngsters, both man and woman
Quiet and deadly, in following seas, free
No light above, but the Moon and Orion

Coffee, cigarette, red night lights aglow
I, reading Conrad, lookouts are all set
Only sounds of the sea and radio
Always watchful for contacts to be met

She patrols her night box for rogue raiders
Giant turbines in her belly turn with snap
The night cook prepares mid watch cheese sliders
Chaplin says night prayer, Boats plays taps

She was built for fast work anytime or place
I sit on watch, red light bathing my face

© Copyrights G. Jones 2006

Night steaming in the Indian Ocean

Author's Note: Sailor's Sonnet Series

Interview with the Dark Lady

THE PLACE

THE PLACE THE PLACE

The place in which I found myself that night

~~~~~~~~~~~~~would be there~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the road's edge

Bathed by warm engine's breath 

I escaped for a second

To the cool crisp air

The pain, always present 

An eternal covenant of blood 

Kept me awake that night

My strength fading 

The calm voice of an owl

Gave me solace and shudder

Trying to maintain my balance 

Black stiletto heels sinking

Into dark cool mud

The fresh wooden stake

Reflecting the soft moonlight

Taking it in my hands 

I heaved it OUTWARD

With an animal GROAN

I placed it carefully in his lap

The untellable wound inside

I closed my shawl

Covering what remains me forever

I reached through the window

Passed his unseeing eyes

Placing the car in drive

I stepped aside

Over the steep cliff they sailed

To oblivion

I turned up the road 

Thumb extended

To the

Oncoming

Car

~~~~~~~~~~~~~The place in which I found myself that night~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Would be much different 

If my date would have 

Been a little higher

To the right

© Copyrights G. Jones 2006

Author's Note: The In the Weird Series.

The Bridge

I remember a much simpler time
When the world was round and so innocent

There was a country store, a narrow creek
An old cable hung from a metal bridge

The launching point from which people would swing
A semi flat rock on the muddy bank

For an extra thrill, one could climb the bridge
Dare, and a step into just nothing

Rushing air, a great splash, and the bottom
Once to the surface, proving your courage

Occasionally, all would abandon
When a lazy old snake would swim along

This gave chance for sharing time and a joke
A soda, potato chips, and moon pie

Dripping wet, cut-off shorts, and the warm sun
Innocent minds, so far, not corrupted

No one thought of what the future would bring
The poor, lived from day to day, happily

We earned our pay from driving a tractor
Hauling hay and digging fence posts all day

Upon returning home to family
We ate home cooking and slept untroubled

Yes, I remember a simpler time
The creek, friends, family, and innocence

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Memory Photographs Series

Gold Digger

Gold digger ever on the hunt
With an unsatiable desire
Green eyes and a crocodile tear

Sharp sensitive snout aground
Sweet scent of incarnant craving
Propells her hot panting persuit

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

The Model Behind the Mask

Their discreet shadow bourgeois dignity
The perfect couple and all would agree

It is her self-absorbed complicity
That allows his mock-connubial love

Children boarded at university
Left alone with their darling pastimes

She the charitable socialite queen
He and his office inamorata

They share a commitment to worldly things
A model husband and his lovely queen

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

Shadow Logic

A crawling dark shadow
In the mind, beckons desire
Replacing your spiritual fear
Deliciously, hiding logic

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

Subic Bay, Philippines

I'd just gotten blown in from the grey, raging sea
Weather beaten from wind and hail, exhausted
One-hundred days of constant steaming, now was free
Needed a long night, to get my brain defrosted

Cash, burning holes in the pockets, of my blue jeans
I hit the streets, with women and whiskey in mind
Knew exactly the place for both, I had my means
Off, I quickly leave my fellow squids far behind

As a salt, my woman was already waiting
Years in this port, made for loving friends and old ties
Her, a beautiful brown, dark haired island darling
She'd calm the warrior from sea, quiet my cries

The good ole Philippines, my home away from home
An awesome rest, fore returning to ocean’s foam

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Author's Note: Sailor's Sonnet Series