RMS Titanic

RMS Titanic

down at the wreckage
my heart sank faster
than the ship itself.
it took four hours
to travel from sun
to blue
to green
to dark eerie blackness
on the quiet ocean floor.
the world ceased to breathe.
nothing moved.
there was life no longer.my only dream since I was ten
became real for a glad moment,
but transformed
into a twisted nightmare
trapped, swimming naked
at the bottom of the ocean.
the chaos in the antique april night
echoed within the walls of the dying ship.
it was an eerie mess of
algae ridden steal,
cheap rivets,
absent funnels,
and frowning faces
of decrepit dolls locked in the basement;
the two mysterious broken chunks
sat separated by half a mile
of cold emptiness
and screams
and questions.
human bones
sank into sea floor.
the famous
broken bow drooped
in sadness
buried halfway
in the sand
where microorganisms loomed,
floating along
in the immensity of it all.

lingering in the stillness
and sadness
of my only dream
I was small,
and lost
in the midst of the
english masterpiece
we called
the unsinkable
Ship of Dreams.
Written in Columbia, SC 2010

     Author’s Thought: I’ve been fascinated by the story of the Titanic since I turned nine. One afternoon recently a friend told me, “I heard you can buy a ticket to the Titanic for, like, $500.” My eyes doubled and my chin dropped. That might be cheaper than going to space! I thought. When I returned home that night I did my research. It turned out that instead of $500 dollars, a four-hour trip to the bow of the Titanic was in the ball park of $18,000. So instead of visiting the Titanic, I wrote a poem about it. And as soon as I did I began remembering my fear of the center or the ocean, its darkness and enormity; the terrifying image of the ship sinking; and that even though it was a childhood fantasy to have seen the RMS Titanic, I would be white as sheets and shocked of being trapped near the floor of the ocean next to this eerie sight of death and rot.
I suppose there is also some subtext in the poem of children with dreams growing up dreading the dreams they’ve created.
Categories: Love Poetry, Nostalgic Poetry, Puzzling Poems, Sad Poetry | Leave a comment

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