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Poetry
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The Navigator
By patterjack
25 January 2007
The  Navigator


The  navigator  sought   an  unknown  land

and  having   found  it  ,  stood  and  gazed  in  awe

at  one  he   saw  before  him on  the  sand

upright   , naked  :  proud  princess  on  the  shore .


The  golden  glow  of  breasts  that jutted forth

reflected  that  land's  smooth and rounded  slopes.

Her red  lips   sang  him that here  was  his  true  north.

Her velvet   thighs  were the  focus  of   his hopes --                                 

muscled  and  sleek   ;  like new forged  scimitars  curved

to hold within  their  arcs the promised  bliss

of  days   of   a  mutual    passion  unreserved ;

no  thought  of  risk   to    render his hopes   amiss  .                


Others   ,  he  knew ,  had  been  to  this  land   before ,

had  listened  to    the  enchantress' s  siren  song                      

and all  those others  had  chosen   to   ignore

the  price   to   be  paid    to a  fate    inexorable ,   strong.


Reason  denied   by  the  delights  that  she   could  offer, 

spellbound  ,  entranced   ,    he  went  to  meet  her   blind  , 

knowing that  he   must  take  what  she  would proffer,

for  he  had  found  what  he  had   come  to  find .

Reviews
hmm
Written by no1butClo (341 comments posted) 25th January 2007
I like the feeling of fate in this: the navigator knew exactly what he was looking for, and wasn't 'drawn in' as such by the siren, even if he was, it was what he wanted anyway. [hope that made sense] 
 
Love the simile of her thighs to scimitars, it almost wasn't unexpected, but it gives a sinister note, empowers her, makes her precise. 
 
wonderful stuff pj :)  
 
clo x
Oooerr Mr Patterjack!
Written by Talisker (1331 comments posted) 25th January 2007
There's lead in the old pencil yet. Titter ye not! Titter ye not! 
 
I thought it was going to be the old gag; 
 
Siren: Would you like to play around? 
 
Navigator: Christ! Have you got a set of golf clubs too! 
 
Not from your top drawer Brian, perhaps even from your naughty bottom drawer. 
 
Oli :)

Written by Bottleblondesurfer (3567 comments posted) 25th January 2007
It reminded me of the phrase about an immoveable object meeting an unstoppable force [or something like that] They both had their agendas and it wouldn't end well. I had the image of matter and anti-matter but with a strong sexual charge. I know there was a lot there and I've probably missed most of it. I remember the quote that " If the novel is an open hand the poem is a closed fist" I might have prised a couple of fingers open. A very graphic piece, though 
cheers 
J

Written by Phil (6963 comments posted) 25th January 2007
I'm sure I've only scratched the surface of this in many ways, but there's something bewitching and beguiling about it. I keep getting drawn back to the second verse particularly. 
 
Lots of ideas rolling around this limited little mind of mine. 
 
Enjoyed, 
 
Phil.
thank you ll
Written by patterjack (1435 comments posted) 25th January 2007
clo-- you do indeed make sense 
 
Oli-- you'd be surprised at what is in my drawers-- all pretty useless -- leadless pencils among them 
 
BBS-- what you got is pretty relevant -- and i never believe you when you say you may have missed a lot-- the prised fingers were pretty loose to move so WYSIWYG really. 
 
Phil-- keep 'em rolling -- they are probably all relevant  
 
Thanks again for accepting something in a new direction for me 
 
patterjack

Written by francoise (129 comments posted) 27th January 2007
enjoyed reading this like everybody else it seems! 
 
'scimitars curved' powerful choice of words here. The piece as a whole read well, I found myself following the navigators focus of attention! The ending was a positive one and not of the "doomed to lust" variety. She could easily have been a 'femmefatale' but its nice to see a poem where mutual passion doesn't end in pain. 
 
I could be completely wrong with my reading though, perhaps the navigator should navigate elsewhere! 
 
more than a titillitating read for me. lovely 
 
Fran.

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