Deck Red

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  • Death

    Deck Red

    The hollow ache of having lost his crew
    ate at the captain,
    inside it brewed, and it stewed,
    impatient,
    he cocked his gun,
    stared directly into the sun,
    closed his eyes,
    as the warmth caressed his face,
    he rubbed his sweaty palm
    on his chest,
    finally, his mind was calm,
    he placed the gun to his head,
    hesitated momentarily,
    as if walking on thin ice,
    he wasn’t a hard-nose captain,
    in fact, he was considered very nice,
    shot rang out,
    the flapping wings of sea birds were heard
    but there was no shout,
    deck red,
    captain dead.

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    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

    Atanacio’s Poems (43)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    In A Cool, Dry Place 0
    Masking Her Fate 2
    Complete The Beasts 0
    Souls Sang 2
    Guilty, And He Knew Why 0
    Eyes Smoldering 0
    Quiet The Cries 0
    A Slim Figure Rising 0
    He Sensed Defeat 0
    Calm Passed 0
    Marched Briskly 0
    Trinity Sunday 1
    He Stood In The Shadows 0
    Familiar Stranger 0
    Ocean Air 0
    Earthbound 1
    Into Glazed Eyes 0
    Proof Of God 1
    Peculiar Brush With Death 0
    State Rested 0
    No Sign Of Regret 0
    First Kiss 0
    Asphyxiation 0
    Condemnation 1
    Her Emotions Were Mummified 1
    No Kingdom Come 1
    Deck Red 0
    God's Eyes, Grim 1
    Floated To Heaven On A Dream 0
    Nothing More Than A Dream 0
    A Flamboyant Amber 0
    Life Fell Prey 0
    Emotions Sift 0
    The Silence Was Unnerving 0
    Die... 0
    This Game 0
    Only A Voice Mail 0
    A Flamboyant Amber 2
    Soft Kisses 1
    Ghost Shook Her Head 1
    Exhilarating Freedom 0
    Muted Chatter 0
    Putting Death On Hold 1