Sunday, July 20, 2008

Sinbad the Sailor

He could choose to groom for the women
But he chose the wind which lived in his hair
He could choose to hide from the sun
But he decided to answer his own prayer

He would swim to the floundering ship at the horizon
He would secretly dance to his hum, furtively smile
A lone cloud, he could bring rain standing alone
A migratory bird, he would forget the miles flown

Everyday he would follow his love, never tell
He would compose songs for her, which he would sell
Those who bought, bought a part of his heart
He would later reclaim these parts from every tart

Che Guevara on his t-shirt, he could bemuse
He could gamble and loose, smile and refuse
He could ravage and plunder, and blunder
Make love to a flower, tear a cliff asunder

He would wipe his brow with his sleeve
He would kneel to the cross and grieve
However he never let go of his bottle of gin
And he would savor every kiss of its sin

He was a sailor of the high seas, when he was afloat
He would curse the gale which rocked his boat
But he would make amends by ginger ale
Inebriated, then Sinbad would blow at his sail