Books

Where your heart becomes a cannon spit iron on the whale Follow him through perdition's flame then live to tell the tale

 

There is no ship quite like a book

it wanders as it may

Then takes us out amongst the waves

where gods and children play

 

To places far and wide we trek

chase hell's whale 'long the pole

Crest waves with Ahab na'er the cape

where gods may claim your soul

 

There your heart becomes a cannon

spit iron on the whale

Follow him through perdition's flame

and live to tell the tale

 

As the oarsmen all stagger back

cross themselves o’re the job

No hope to see another day

forlorn begin to sob

 

Imaginations running wild

wicked cruelty sublime
Chase your whale till you catch his tail

or till the end of time

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Author's Note

Books are the windows to the world. But more than that they traverse time itself. As they take you to Melviles time of Moby Dick. They inspire. More than that they create the world of imagination. For Ahab the White Whale was nothing to be so idealised, rather it was "...all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby-Dick. He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it."
Thank You Allen Eddings for that rendition of the classic tale

Reviews

[Dayran]

An illustration of disproportionate natures, as viewed in our minds, to which we are yet to bring a metre to. Children and gods indeed! Hard to say which is bigger.

[Undying Glory]

very nice work i really loved this one. this was very vivid and surreal stuff here, i loved this rendition of Moby-Dick in this poem. the madness and passion in the story was really manifested into this awesome poem.
"As the oarsmen all stagger back
cross themselves o’re the job
No hope to see another day
forlorn begin to sob

Imaginations running wild
wicked cruelty sublime
Chase your whale till you catch his tail
or till the end of time"
now that was just sweet!

[Rikkevi Rue]

just happens to be that you can really hold up a verse with a verse with a verse and all are so analytically crafted as to flow right along their own little thought river and yet converge into a mightily growing confluence of ideas and imaginational concept that paints a whole wide lake or ocean of creation...

a true weaver of tales.

[Tate Morgan]

That was brilliant

[HorrorMaster]

very brilliant

[Chouazza]

Brilliant. Sorry for the short review, not much more to say,

[Kenneth The Poet]

Fantastic. Need more be said.

[Dakota]

Yes! This! You captured it exactly! It needs no fancy words of praise! It stand alone as what it is! It took me back to places and times I forgot existed, in the limbs of an old gnarled bois d'arc tree in front of a clapboard house at the end of a dirt road in a small town in Texas where I was anything from a pirate on the beaches of Treasure Island to hiding in the secret lab of Dr Jeckyll. Thank you for this Tate!

[EMW]

Books have great power. They can take you wherever you want to go. They are a gateway to whatever world we want to go. Reading has always been one of my favorite activites because of the power each book holds.

[Periac]

brilliant Tate......a breathless write that had me engulfed from the first line throughout....I worried the subject with the actual meaning at first but you had mingled the whole concept brilliantly.....amazing work

[lawrence bear]

this was beautiful, books are a gateway to our imagination yes, books are of importance, they guide us away from evil and are our protectors, others who seek adventure, go that route, a book is many things, many charters to a different place and time. a super poem and thanks for sharing.

lawrence