The Lighthouse

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  • GeniusMan
  • When push comes to shove, conga lines can get pretty ugly.

Poem Commentary

The name of the bar is the Lighthouse. I'm pretty sure you can get it from there.

The Lighthouse

I am but a sailing man.
who'd wish that I was born?
I set out each and every night,
Fight cold wet foam as sport.
This vessel is a broken one,
I cannot bare the storms.
It isn't like I want to drown,
Yet up to my neck, and more.
On the rocks or plain, I see it.
A light just off the shores.
If I can never stand, so be it.
This light it keeps me warm.
At nights I'm here, away from home.
At nights I'm here, away from harm.
In morn, the pain and bitters waits,
But here I can't feel my arms.
So I'll hold fast to bitter gulps,
A taste of salt or misted,
'Til I'm afloat like ice in oceans.
A life with the lemon twisted.

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

GeniusMan’s Poems (63)

Title Comments
Title Comments
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The Lighthouse 0
The Old Breath 0
O, What Autumn Lovers Seek 0
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Isn't that Erotic? 1
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Senses most vowel 0
Truth 0
Logic and Love 0
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The Games We People Play 1
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Teachers 1