CHERITA #3

My third experiment with the poetic form – The CHERITA . . .

‘Cherita’ is the Malay word for story or tale. A cherita consists of a single stanza of a one-line verse, followed by a two-line verse, and then finishing with a three-line verse. It can be written solo or with up to three partners.  (See the website at:   https://www.thecherita.com for further information).

Rhyming is not required, but here is a version which does include rhyme . . .

‘Boo Hoo’ . . . Photo: WHB 2021

3.

I walked along the towpath

Observing each boat as I passed
Until I reached the very last.

A strange name it had
Some may think it sad
But no, it made me glad.

Cirrhosis Of The River

Photo: WHB … R.Thames mooring – 2016

I name this boat ‘Cirrhosis’

It’s part of my neurosis;

And when at last it sinks

I’m finished with the drinks.

 © WHB . . . Originally published on this blog in 2016

Zakinthos

[ Photo Blog  #68 ]

Zakynthos, or Zante,  is a Greek island in the Mediterranean’s southern Ionian Sea. The island’s capital is the coastal city, which is itself called Zakynthos.  It is centred around the waterfront area of Solomos Square.  I visited the island in 2006 and include below some of the photographs of the island and its capital which I took at that time.

Approaching Zakinthos from the sea

Rainbow over the island

Rainbow

Cypress trees in the wooded hills above the island’s capital

One of the island’s many tourist beaches

Harbour side – Fish fresh from the sea

Colourful fishing nets

A Bougainvillea-clad house in Solomos Square 

Bronze bust of a Greek Orthodox bishop outside the Church of St Agios Dionysios, Zakynthos

Statue of Liberty on Solomos square in Zakynthos city 

Close-up of ‘Liberty’

Jason’s long-lost and battered Argo perhaps !?

Zante’s turquoise sea

P&O ‘Arcadia’ at Zakinthos

 

A Trawler’s Resting Place

Photograph at the Stade, Hastings, by WHB – October 2017   ©

 

THE STADE  (Hastings)

 

desolate and deconstructed
now at rest
my remnant life
so inexorably sea-linked 
still confronted
and yet consoled
by those waves
forever beating
on the shingle
of my shore

here on the stade
in the first throes of death
it is my destined fate
to pass on my faith
to those who succeed me

for hope exists
rebirth is on offer
amidst the rigours
of a relentless sea
on my pebbled bed
above the tides
prow still proudly fronting
those endless tides
white waves
bursting at my bows

resting at last
only my memories
trawling my sea-going past
recapturing the rapture
of my vibrant youth
the courageous tenor
of my old life
now entombed
beside my brethren
brothers in desuetude
companions of my death in life
the mystery of my history
encapsulated in this
maritime minster
my tomb inscribed
with my exploits
embedded
within the planking of my hull
and the bulkheads of my carcass

but … no shipshape shrine
rather sea-scavengers paradise
Davy Jones the organ donor
salty entrails examined
my sea-going body parts
prized and picked over
human gulls
ancient sea-dog mariners
making claim again
to my once upon a time worth
my parts in death available
transplanting hope
bringing new life to old

what the sea has not already claimed
remains
to tempt a new generation
regeneration offered
my hull disembowelled
stripped to its frame
rust freed
reclaimed
renamed
fading sea-life re-empowered
man’s eternal battle with the sea
love-hate affirmed
continued and confirmed
empowering new sea ventures

harbingers of a new generation
to be subjected once more
to the ocean’s
recondite whim
and arcane  grace

 

 

Wanted! A Good Woman

I photographed this poster prominently displayed in the forrard window of a motor cruiser moored at the mouth of a river on the east coast of Kent, England, in 2009.   For those who are unable to decipher the wording on the poster, I quote it here . . .

WANTED
GOOD
WOMAN
Must Be Able to Clean
Cook, Sew, Dig Worms
and Clean Fish
Must Have Boat 
and Motor
ALSO SEND PICTURE OF
BOAT AND MOTOR

The, presumably tongue-in-cheek, audacity prompted me to write the verses below . . .

Wanted! A pliant good woman
A sturdy strapping lass;
Content to be a willing wife –
One of the servile class.

Someone to meet my every need,
Allow me my own space;
Clean my house, cook. sew and dig
And do it with good grace.

My priorities must be upheld
I need no self-willed martyr
Who’ll bicker and demand a fee
Each time I tweak her garter.

A bit of brass, willing to share,
That would not go amiss
I’d give you pocket money too
And from time to time a kiss

A woman’s lot is never done
I know that’s what they say
But after all is said and done
It’ll be worth it for the pay.

You’ll get a home with bed and board
With a kind, considerate master.
What else in life could a lady ask
When all else now has passed her?

And so to sum up my request
I need a loving spouse
A soul-mate made to serve my needs
And good about the house.

Someone to moderate my charms
To make me more unfeeling …

… I don’t know why but no one yet
Has found my job appealing.