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Aug 22, 2006 01:04


~a bottle. a swig. a drunken stupor...--M.M-8/21/06

As i walk among the sandmites and tiny fish
every waves washing itself over my feet
i start to wonder if any pirate ever walked in these same
footsteps
with every wash of water comes endless memories
of once-incredulous, mangy and dirty, bona fide scurvy
pirates
how many walked along this sand?
how many actually robbed this small town?
did they even come here?
did they even know about it?
as the acridly cold water harshly beats upon my ankles
i cant help but gaze at the horizon
the magnificence of it keeping my eye
it's blue haze molding into the sky
i begin to imagine a pirate ship off into the distance
waving no colors and brimming with drunken men
the ocean water carries their songs to me
songs of women and treasure
and their beloved rum and whiskey
accociated with dancing an laughing and jumping around

i envy them
i envy their good times
and their fun lives
granted, their lives were hard
full of death and unkempt hygene
taking orders well into the wee hours of the morning
living on a ship for most of their lives

but i would prefer that life over the ones given to us
in the 21st century

i would give my left arm to know how to fence
and to fight like a man in search of buried treasure
to believe in the curse bestowed upon gold
we all found together on an uncharted isle
to be actually afraid of such nonsense and bollocks
to live a life of unknown-ness and mystery
not to know what may happen next
and to have the freedom and the willpower to outrun
the law
after robbing
a small town
which is something no one can do anymore

these envious thoughts that race through my head
only happen in a fraction of a small second
the halftime of a moment
and i dig my toes in the sand
wishing for it to all be real

so i adjust my hat
and i shift my belt
making sure my sword and pistol havent fallen out
(the captain has told me to get a smaller one, but i havent stolen one that fits yet)
i remove my boots
and help my fellow crewmembers shove off the little boat
we all hop in, and i grab an oar
as me and the whelp who has just joined our crew
row ourselves back to our ship
she's beautiful and black
sailing just on the horizon
the four of us are greeted by cheers and bellows and calls of
welcome and happiness
thank you for rescuing us from our marrooned prison, mates
we wouldnt have survived if not for you
ah, well we could never just leave you, now could we?

i dig out my toes and walk back up the beach
back to my world of the future
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