Ballad of the Captain

Ballad of the Captain ballad

The captain at the tip of his ship,

Who sang into the onrushing storm.

And while it raved and raised its whip,

He offered it his sweet and strange song.

The stars hid themselves away that night,

For they could not bear to hear the sound,

Some guilt laden set them-selves alight,

And fell downward mindless and unbound.

Like queens that cast themselves from high towers,

When despotic swords dyed their dreams red,

And they mutely became part of the stars,

Myriad martyrs die unheard and unsaid.

It was a song of his loves and dreams,

Of his parents and their lucid lives,

Of memories that burst out in streams,

And the look in distant dying eyes.

Of the simple things he liked to do,

Thoughts that filled his mind as a child,

Of the mute grey and solitary blue,

And the poetic spirit of the wild.

Of how the mud smelt in the warm rain,

Of the subtle fevers of childhood,

Of how oblique rays of light would stain,

Familiar parts of the walls and wood.

Of his shyness, guilt and fears,

And all that is the life of a man,

Like raging floods that leapt over weirs,

And thus his song of life limpidly ran.

They say the storm bellowed and cried out,

Like a father smothering his own child,

And the rain and rage seemed to mount,

And race like a wild stallion untied.

They say you can still hear that sad song,

And the storm and his savage din,

But only if you tarry unmeasured long,

And if you have a poet within.

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Jay Krishnan

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Always wide eyed with wonder, prone to reveries and restless with an inexplicable yearning to create ever since he was a little boy, Jay wrote his first poem when he was six. He discovered the ore of his creative endeavors in the writings of his sister from which everything else originated, in attics filled with vanilla smelling old books, in savoring the classics and in intricate poems of Wordsworth and William Blake inlaid with rhyme…. His poems have snuck under editorial radars and appeared in global anthologies, magazines, newspapers and online journals. He also runs an idea shop called the Centre of Gravity, draws cartoons, directs animated short films and conceptualizes communication campaigns. All of which originate from the same artery of poetic longing that destiny charmed into his soul.
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Member

How many of us actually get the time to review our lives before we cease to be? Jay captures this notion in his poem as he helps us visualise the captain facing a storm and reliving his life in those last few moments. Poignant and dramatic!

Jayshree Murali
Member

Jay Krishnan – this one was straight from the gut and wrenching – all kinds of images .
super ! I can only say this much…
An anguished soul
must be laid to rest
but nay, do not wrest
from him
his plaintive screams
lest his ghosts
haunt you in your
cocooned musical interlude !

Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Member

They say you can still hear that sad song,
And the storm and his savage din,
But only if you tarry unmeasured long,
And if you have a poet within.

Remarkable lines. Great poem.

wildwhistles
Member

amazing! simply amazing. Your words in this poem carried me.

wpDiscuz

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