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Board » General Discussion » Poetry Saved for Posterity

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It's always scary to be ahead of ITA10267. Usually it's an indication that you are in the wrong place at the wrong time:

Oh, I know you are all chasing ITA
From the front but he's still gonna beat ya
He'll be lurking awhile
While he's checking your file
Then he'll pounce. His attack's gonna freak ya.
Another day, another bay. MustangMark and Pocket Rocket were exchanging friendly banter when I arrived in chat. Please, forgive my inept language at the end.

A dapper young Briton named Mark
Has escaped the attacks of a shark
He saddled his mustang
Rode off with his SOL-gang
And beached the poor shark in a park

But his friend has a trick in his pocket
And it makes that boat surf like a rocket
He has kept Mark at bay
For at least half a day
I dare think Mark is thinking "Oh, f... it!!!"

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2017-12-21 21:56:43 ---
Gazing at the endless horizon and pondering the words ascribed to Theocritus and Cicero: "While I breathe, I hope."

Any sailor who thinks he's a hero
Will know the words 'dum spiro spero'
He'll be sailing his best
While he's shouting with zest:
"If I cannot be first, I'll be zero"
We were racing in The Black Sea and, as sometimes happens, Smo was a little late for the start. In The Mouth of Denmark's absence I took it upon myself to honour him and his great sportsmanship with a not quite perfectly rhymed Limerick:

In Finland lived King Smo,
An outdoor bloke, you know.
But not so punctual in starting,
So’no, at times he was not smo-king,
As in along; not ‘cool.. man.. slow…’.
Clipping along
In honour of the mighty spaceman from das Norden...

‘Ganz Oben’ lives an astronaut.
‘Moin, moin’ he’d say ‘ganz ohhe’ doubt,
If just he had more to time to chat.
But no, his life is not like that.
His time to spare he needs to route.

‘Ganz Oben’ lives an astronaut.
‘Moin, moin’ he thinks ‘ganz ohhe’ doubt,
As he serenely sails us by,
Letting us guess the how and why.
Is he a Dane or just a Kraut?

‘Ganz Oben’ lives an astronaut.
‘Moin, moin’ you’d say ‘ganz ohhe’ doubt,
To such a gentleman as he
Ein Herr, but oft times quite unfortunately
His lead prevents him hear your shout.

‘Ganz Oben’ lives an astronaut.
‘Moin, moin’ you dreamt you heard him shout,
Because you thought your routed trip
Would catch him out in his Rumskib.
But ‘Nein, doch Nicht, am Schnellsten wieder war’…
his route.
Clipping along
Here the flotsam and jetsom of a Timed Race off Stockholm with course changes every 8 minutes.

Puts a poet-in-spe on quite a tight schedule ... wherefore these broken lim'ricks:

I was told by a tillerman tellin' me
That for us to lead by a millime...
"Do not go aground.
Stay with the island all round.
And just hand me a beer lest you're killin' me."

I am told that I sound like a Dutch
Could it be all the glasses of Scotch
I am Danish you see
That's the best I could be
And as such I don't understand much.

Well, Bonk my head and what a Hoot
We have a winner and to boot
He's not a punk
He is but Bonk
He's greeted with a mighty "TOOT".

And this one is for Bonknhoot:

I would like to invite you to dinner
Because you are so much of a winner
With Jepsom in line
WTF just behind
And in fourth just a regular sinner.

[In this limerick, WTF only works if you spell it out. This, however, is NSFW.]

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2016-01-11 09:11:25 ---

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2016-01-11 09:47:01 ---
Odds and ends from a boring day in the Atlantic - racing Boston to Plymouth in 125f cats.
How this could ever be boring is beyond me; but I had a little time on my hands in my free shift.

while I'm sailing to England, I think.
Oh, Good Lawd, I had better not sink.
Twenty four and eight forty
knots, Oh, and good Lordy
I will capsize if I take a wink

Beyond the horizon is Aner
Going strong and most likely a gainer
With the sheets hauled in tight
He will put up a fight
With his genoa and with his main'er.

Robert1 is a gentleman Swede
All dressed up - in silk ties and tweed
He will tear up the course
He is actually Norse
Like a viking, he'll head for the lead.

Oh, my word, I see Rumskib has started
Good old Winston has not yet departed
Between both of the two
Would you know what to do?
I was early. I must be retarded.

There are times we are apt to be surly
eg. when we have started too early
The Atlantic is wide
It's a helluva ride
Jlinc your ride will surely be pearly.

The story they tell about Smo
that he was always a little bit slo'?
On water or ice
It's a throw of the dice
But count on the Fin, Smo, to go.

As long as you're keeping afloat
It doesn't much matter which boat
Of course you'll go faster
If you are the master
Of S/Y Sebensa ... take note!

When the polar is flat as a pancake.
There is no speed in there that you can make.
It had better be round
If you are Plymouth-bound
Better kick up a bow and a stern wake.

We should all keep an eye peeled for Winston
He is seasoned thru fire and brimstone
If he does not start
It is probably smart
To remain close to Kingston and Princeton.

To the obvious we should be jumping
There's no chance of a president Trump-ing
Grabbing women up front
He's a total affront
This is what history should be dumping.

There was an old man name of Donald
No! Not Duck, but much rather like Ronald
All the women he'll Trump
Cuz he likes a good ... rump
He's a burger just like a McDonald.

Ocean crossings are always so boring
Over miles upon miles we are poring
So to keep me awake
There are rhymes I will make
And at least then my spirits are soaring.

So, I'm asked if I'm using a plumb bob
Much as I would chew gum and then gum drop
Oh, the ocean is deep
I will live with the beep
Of my sonar or else I will beach hop

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2016-11-07 11:56:03 ---
BRAVO ;-)))
[Another transport sail across the Pond. What's a man to do other than harassing his friends with endless, dull poetry]

The first trip was not to my liking
So I'm back and this one will be striking
In five days or less
Lest I meet with a mess
I am after all a real viking.

Depart Boston to Ply-mouth ... Hmm ... ansar
Along Dasher, Dancer and Prancer.
If Rudolph will go
We do not yet know
His boss wants a mileage enhancer.

There was an old sailor from Kent
Whose mast was so tall that it bent
So to sail on the double
And save himself trouble
He hoisted a tent and then went.

This one is from Bonknhoot:

So welcome back, Mouth,
Perhaps you’ve been South?
We missed you, you know.
So where did you go?
Never mind, let it rest.
Now just keep heading West.

And my reply:
Hey, Hoot!, Bonk you know you confuse me.
You say 'West' are you trying to lose me?
I am going East
It seems right, now, at least
If I'm wrong, I know you'll excuse me.

There's a traffic jam off Massachusetts.
All the 'heavies' are there to abuse it.
The Spacecraft has lifted.
We know he is gifted.
Was he right or was he confus-ed?

Beware of the sailor 'ThePenguin'
He's discreet while he's trying to blend in
You can google his name
It is not quite the same
You will find him if you search for 'Kingpin'

Overnight, we have been in a slow flow
Much as sailing in darkness and slo mo
Our courses were bent
Morning light - heaven sent
We awaken to look out for slow Smo

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2016-11-13 10:00:42 ---

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2016-11-13 10:03:27 ---

--- Last Edited by Mouthansar at 2016-11-13 10:04:55 ---
One last one in celebration of the Boston - Plymouth timed race and two sailors who didn't sleep for the duration:

Alexandria vs. the Kipper's
cat is a full-blown job for two skippers.
They fought day and night
with all of their might
They'll now share two rhums and the slippers.

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