Ghost Ships

sufi

lala
High Sketchiness on the High Seas
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
this is deep
Clearly the EU spying on our fish... or worse, what if they've found a way to heard them using secret drone submarines? Basically getting our fish back is - it's now generally agreed - literally the only reason we are doing Brexit, it would be just like those sneaky, swarthy EU types* to fucking heard them back to their waters where they can fish them. Why oh why did we we stake everything on something that can simply swim away leaving us behind and taking all our hopes and dreams with them?



*do we actually have a word for a general EU citizen which insults and demeans them? If not then one is sorely lacking and someone needs to come up with it forthwith - actually got a good one straight away which perfectly sums up their lack of balls and sovereignty which they've traded away for mere wealth and prosperity and freedom and... well loads of other completely worthless stuff that I don't have room to list here. Anyway, quite pleased with this one (assuming it hasn't been done before, which no doubt it has cos, there is always someone else who got there and did it first. Probably a sneaky EU member, or EU-nuch as I'm christening these sackless thieves.
 

woops

is not like other people
*do we actually have a word for a general EU citizen which insults and demeans them? If not then one is sorely lacking and someone needs to come up with it forthwith - actually got a good one straight away which perfectly sums up their lack of balls and sovereignty which they've traded away for mere wealth and prosperity and freedom and... well loads of other completely worthless stuff that I don't have room to list here. Anyway, quite pleased with this one (assuming it hasn't been done before, which no doubt it has cos, there is always someone else who got there and did it first. Probably a sneaky EU member, or EU-nuch as I'm christening these sackless thieves.
EU-nuch is good or how about "Remainders"
 

DannyL

Wild Horses
Man, I brisk in the galley first thing next dawn,
brewing li’l coffee; fog coil from the sea
like the kettle steaming when I put it down
slow, slow, ’cause I couldn’t believe what I see:
where the horizon was one silver haze,
the fog swirl and swell into sails, so close
that I saw it was sails, my hair grip my skull,
it was horrors, but it was beautiful.
We float through a rustling forest of ships
with sails dry like paper, behind the glass
I saw men with rusty eyeholes like cannons,
and whenever their half-naked crews cross the sun,
right through their tissue, you traced their bones
like leaves against the sunlight; frigates, barkentines,
the backward-moving current swept them on,
and high on their decks I saw great admirals,
Rodney, Nelson, de Grasse, I heard the hoarse orders
they gave those Shabines, and that forest
of masts sail right through the Flight,
and all you could hear was the ghostly sound
of waves rustling like grass in a low wind
and the hissing weeds they trailed from the stern;
slowly they heaved past from east to west
like this round world was some cranked water wheel,
every ship pouring like a wooden bucket
dredged from the deep; my memory revolve
on all sailors before me, then the sun
heat the horizon’s ring and they was mist.
 
Top