Blogarama

h. dagger's adventures at sea

Name:
Location: the waves, the ocean

Hoist the sails, raise yer bloody goblets, ahoy & onward me laddies!

Monday, October 10, 2005

A Brief Note Concerning Mermaid & Dolphin

Laddies, I bid ye top o' the morn, aye, & a blustery thing it be, aye, as me good eye's seen naught of Eos on 'er bloody chariot, nay, but rather the swirling chill of snow & rain 'pon me decks, aye & the harsh blow of the wind o'er me sails, bringing not a little frost to the tips of me beardhairs, lads, on such a morn as this. Glad I be though that such weren't the climes as me disappearance unfurled in its strange mystery, lads, for the Pacific be chilly enough of temper & temperment that no man should endure its depths whilst above tide & sky collide in such thunderous inclemence. Aye, for me time belowseas was endurable lads, me thanks in large part to a nest of mermaids that 'pon the bottom lived, beds of fine sand & feasts of such multifarious splendor that, if they involved cooked bits here & there, would have been of unheard of magnitude. Aye, & down 'twixt fin & soft mermaid skin there swam a school of dolphins such as a man rarely spies from 'board ship, velvety grey skin & black eyes as deep as their abode, lads. Some good comfort I took there, 'pon the silty shifty divides, that methought meself transplanted to some carnal heaven, aye, to top the Valhalla Hjort champions in 'is own feeble way (allowing that, aye, such a thing may be perty, but 'ere 'pon the seas we've many splendors to surpass that ultimate goal of the yellow-blooded viking). Aye, a toast for mermaid & dolphin, lads, for yer cap'n owes 'is very survival & one or two curious rashes to the intimacy they provided. Ah, lads, such wonder in the world, there is, such wonder.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Timbrel & Trumpet

Aye, laddies, ye scabrous dogs tho' ye be, sound the trumpet & make merry with a tune & a wee lass of a parrot, for Dirty Mulebeard's walked another of time's planks, aye, & here he be, aswim in infested waters, a tad greyer in crown & collick, lads. Raise yer goblets, aye, & a merry tune, for dirty Mulebeard, who, tho' he be indisposed of the present tending to matters of the heart with his bird, aye, well, a celebration no less, ye indolent louts! Aye, for yer cap'n is returned & return granted aye indeed by Poseidon or some such wielder of sceptre or staff, for such were the depths of the sea to which yer dear cap'n plummeted, lads, that ere me time was up methought meself a ghost rightwards, plumb deep, the pith of meself, me didgits indivisible sightwise form the anenome crawling about the water like the hair of a dead man. Aye, lads, yer cap'n went under in a moment of sheerest leviathan intimacy, aye, with 'is arms about the great whale like a bear's about a tree, & down, down, down we went until yer cap'n was unplugged so to speak me laddies, & set gently 'pon that silty bed. Aye, subsisting on crabs & octopus, me took me time drawing a plot of return, the while breathing into me flask for short supply of breath laddies, until the flask were emptied of air, & me lips purloined the good stuff from a seahorse's corporeal form, aye, as easy as that. Ye live & ye breath lads, & no depth of tumult or blue, no swirling eddy, no confounding water pressure about one's temples ought to leave ye reft of that. I'll more foray in times to come, but at present lads, a song, a song for Dirty Mulebeard!