Dead Men Deep. A poem.

Posted bystevestillstandingPosted inMental Health, Poetry, WritingTags:, , , , , , , , , ,

Hulls of broken ships,
scattered like white noise.
The sea bed, as black
as a charcoal cellar.

It welcomes sailors
to their ends,
bloated corpses sleeping
in hammocks of crusted ribs,
drunk on briny, antique wine.

Coral wreaths
and sawdust mouths;
barnacles, the new tattoo
that marks the passage
from man to martyr.

Here among the starfish
and crustacean shells,
unworried by the weather,
seabed tales in whale song
punctuate their empty dreams.

Published by stevestillstanding

I’m a writer who loves tabletop role playing games, poetry and (you guessed it) writing. Occasionally I have something to say...

8 thoughts on “Dead Men Deep. A poem.”

  3. That Photo is just like my dream But with a fishing dock with a Huge crown of people laughing while i fell backwards i woke up right after i have lost my sight the deeper i went the more voices fade away my sight was fading too but right after i lost my sight in my dream i woke up in tears I can relate to this in so many ways

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: