Poetry Book 1: The Hidden Gustapo, #1

By Hulgar Von Schnueff

There we were, trapped out at sea! Where was Susan? She had dived and hadn't come back for me. The kids and I were now alone in this cave, and the water was rising. The rock tunnel was narrow and ran deep. We prayed that she had made it to safety, and that she would get help soon. What if she hadn't made it? I couldn't chance the dive with the kids. What if we drowned? Should I attempt to go it alone, and would I be able to return for the kids. There were muscles and barnacles clinging to the roof of the tunnel, indicating that it completely fills with water. If only we had oxygen tanks! If only I hadn't been so damn stubborn in the first place! Now I had endangered the lives of those I love the most. Of those I was totally responsible for. I prayed the hardest, in between telling tales of sea pirates who had once buried their treasure in this cave. The kids were devastated, and they wouldn't stop nagging me. They repeatedly asked me when we would be leaving. How could I possibly blame them? The boys were only eight and ten. It was ironic how I had led my family on an adventure with a possibly fake map, thinking that we may become rich and live comfortable lives. It would be better to live poor lives, than to die in this manner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bernard Harold Curgenven
• Release date: Feb 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393643012

Book preview

Just Another Vendor

When he takes cover,

He could be a fictional character,

Or he may even be your lover.

On every other day,

His cart imitates a common stall,

But on a particular night,

He will collect all the scrap

Because he is watching you all,

And there’s no stopping him,

Because he studied the city map.

Oh look! He is getting fatter,

And he has consumed more grey matter!

I Belong in the Tomb

There we were, trapped out at sea! Where was Susan? She had dived and hadn’t come back for me. The kids and I were now alone in this cave, and the water was rising. The rock tunnel was narrow and ran deep. We prayed that she had made it to safety, and that she would get help soon. What if she hadn’t made it? I couldn’t chance the dive with the kids. What if we drowned? Should I attempt to go it alone, and would I be able to return for the kids. There were muscles and barnacles clinging to the roof of the tunnel, indicating that it completely fills with water. If only we had oxygen tanks! If only I hadn’t been so damn stubborn in the first place! Now I had endangered the lives of those I love the most. Of those I was totally responsible for. I prayed the hardest, in between telling tales of sea pirates who had once buried their treasure in this cave. The kids were devastated, and they wouldn’t stop nagging me. They repeatedly asked me when we would be leaving. How could I possibly blame them? The boys were only eight and ten. It was ironic how I had led my family on an adventure with a possibly fake map, thinking that we may become rich and live comfortable lives. It would be better to live poor lives, than to die in this manner. What can possibly be worse than suffocating or drowning? How could one possibly remain calm in this situation? Should I have reassured the kids of a rescue, when we were bound for death? I prayed and prayed! We were now only one meter from the roof, and the water seemed to be rising more rapidly. The boys both closed their eyes. In desperation I looked up and studied the roof. There was something very unusual about the architecture. Directly above me was a wooden crate of sort, jammed in between rocks!  Had we discovered the pirate’s treasure? I then decided my prayer had been answered, and yelled with joy. I reached for the crate with all my might. It was jammed solid. I tugged and yanked, without success, then looked to the kids for an answer. Andrew, my youngest was gone! Good Lord, where had he gone! In desperation I gave a final push, and the crate broke free. It was longer than I had expected, possibly two meters, the approximate length of a coffin. The heavy crate fell fast and struck something solid. It fell directly on my son. I dived, but both the crate and James had disappeared. Eventually I surfaced for air and noticed the huge hole above me. Suddenly a force of water pushed me from beneath, and I washed out onto the rocks. I tried to go back, but the tied was too strong. Every year I return to the cave that had become my family tomb! This year I won’t be leaving!

Captain Blackbeard’s Life and Death

Captain Blackbeard was born in Bristol

And he carried braces with many a pistol.

He shot a member of his own crew,

And needless to say, his domination grew.

He certainly was a pirate like few.

He conquered Muslim lands on the African coast,

And robbed the flamboyantly dressed Caribbean pirates,

And of Chinese pirate pigtails he would boast.

As a true sea buccaneer,

He never bothered to shed a tear,

Even when he fell

From his twenty five wounds so dear.

With pistol and knife,

Lieutenant Maynard took Teach’s life,

After a long battle at Ocracoke,

The drunken base where Teach had lived a joke!

This home that Teach had built,

Was decorated by sewed garments of silt

And sewed leather boots

That were once other pirates’ loots.

Blackbeard had been a glutton

To silt, leather, calico and cotton,

And harbored traitors in his sack,

Known only as Captain Calico Jack,

And Francois L’Ollonais who was no fool,

Famous for being exceptionally cruel!

Two New Members

Here are a few members of my garden,

Including two new gnomes!

Oh! I beg your pardon!

Elton and Dale

Are the destructive gale!

About my Walk

Don’t let them fool you, for this obese author can walk. I successfully attempted to prove it this morning, albeit only to myself. I walked my three year old son to school. He is attending a gumboot dance today, and had to wear gumboots to school. He refused to walk with the gumboots, so I had to carry him, his boots and his school bag. It’s quite a distance up the steep hill to Fremantle Educare, and I anticipated the trip would take an hour both ways. Oh boy, was I wrong! The entire trip took me only thirty minutes. Not too shabby, considering this was my first walk in a year. I met my gardener on the return trip, and he almost fell flat on his back with laughter.  Have I earned some quiet time with my computer?

Steam locomotive

I once dominated the track

I could push forward

Across reverses,

And then push back.

Now I’m mocked by every drunk,

And classed as prehistoric junk!

I have been overlooked

By the modernized control tower,

And I have run out of steam.

My boiler has been replaced

By unreliable electric power,

And though yesteryear had been won,

They repay me by removing the sun!

The Pirate who Robbed Blackbeard

Something musty and sage,

And not to mention moldy with age,

And it paid me great pleasure

In acquiring Arabella Drumond’s forgotten treasure.

Mine was no ordinary spyglass,

And the ship’s log keeper was no ordinary lass.

We took quarter and sloop from Edward Teach,

And left Blackbeard’s crew stranded on the beach!

Be curious if you must.

You will learn that I left them with

A small pocket of pure gold dust.

In Massachusetts Bay we would choose to stay,

Then on to New Hampshire,

To meet with the treacherous sea creature!

Soon we faced the Sea Cat,

Sent by George, the defender of the Anglican Faith,

In his ninth year reign,

And the foolish Captain William Lubber,

Who carried a sea lion’s blubber.

Indeed what an adventure it had become!

Truly the ‘Bold Adventure’ was the trio nation’s sore thumb.

We misleadingly offered quarter,

By flying the black flag!

Then surfaced the eighty strong jetsam,

As the red betrayed our scam,

And royalty fell to a sea bum!

In the feared black spot,

On the missing portion of the map.

We became a lodger,

And soon we would leave,

In search of the Jolly Roger!

Was there truth behind the medieval wizard,

And the chants that made him fly?

Then you should believe

That we faced the sea wizard from the lizard!

We slayed him, and watched him die!

He fell like a staggering Bard

In St Paul’s churchyard!

He was no match for Queen Anne’s Revenge,

And neither did he seem to try,

When he encircled the one hundred foot stern,

Without attempting to fly!

At Beaufort Inlet the stranded legend lives on,

With its cast iron cannons and occasional swivel gun,

And its bow gathers salt and snow!

My fortune is all but gone,

And weighs in at over a ton,

Buried at the depth of the main mast!

Someday I shall return for it in spirit,

When you revisit my past!

Gardener’s Island wavers my bid,

Which is possessed by Captain Kidd!

Though he was licensed to rob only French ships,

He once whispered my name upon his lips,

And now dwells in the North Sea,

In constant fear of me!

I was born below the tropic of Capricorn,

And sailed beyond the Americas,

And around the Cape Horn,

Waiting, anticipating and circumnavigating,

For adventures in the making

And discovery of what the charts are faking.

I hereby vow to reveal so much more,

Once you set foot upon the shore,

In an attempt to acquire the cutlass,

Which your ancestor once wore!

The King Sleeps Here

The king sleeps here at night.

No, not Arthur, not George!

Neither Elvis nor Stephen!

Only me!

Pirate Anne Bonny

We know you were once ambushed by Barbary corsair,

And so you were forced to grow a pair,

And you soon learned to feed the wales

With eastern spice and pirate pigtails!

Oh ferocious pirate Anne Bonny,

You prefer gold dust and jewelry

To regular hard-earned money,

For you believe what the buccaneers say

About no prey bringing no hay,

And marooning becomes the punishment

Of the day,

To every sailor who deserts his post

Or turns the other way!

And so the fish surface for their regular feed,

By the hands of Anne Bonny and Mary Reid,

Who once swore to protect the back

Of Captain Rackham Jack!

From faking a belly with child,

You had escaped execution

And was released into the wild,

And so you both live on,

Long after Rackham and crew are gone!

My Treasures Remain at Home

Some sailors set sail across stormy seas

And travelled across the world as they please!

For no particular destination were they bound,

And no particular treasure they ever found,

And some shipmates discovered the world is round,

Returning home without wounds or disease!

I had no reason to roam,

For my treasures remain at home!

A Buccaneer’s Word

We had learned to smoke meat

From our French forefathers in Hispaniola,

Who were exiled by the Spanish,

Those who would not vanish!

Finally they set foot upon the soil

Of the Jamaican Port Royal,

And robbed Spanish ships in the Passage!

When we were finally driven from Tortuga,

We came across Campeche Bay woodcutters

And so all sea farer’s took a stand

And we reclaimed our rightful land!

Now our descendants live a life of leisure,

Thriving upon buccaneer treasure,

But they neglect the pirate’s tongue,

A secret code that was once sung!

I Appreciate You Reading Me

One need not be wealthy to be entertained.

From avid readership so much is gained.

Intellect and literacy one should quote,

And show one’s gratitude

By helping me promote.

Whoever you may be,

I appreciate you reading me!

Entertainment in the Captain’s Absence

Ahoy me hearties! Belay there!

Gather amidships and find a perch or a chair.

Let’s celebrate with leather sacks and blackjacks,

Filled with blends of gun-powdered rum,

For the captain has gone ashore,

To visit the unfortunate fellows

Who met with the gallows!

So shiver me timbers and hum!

Bring out the kill-devil,

For the anchor and keel will keep us level!

Release the lubber slaves from the pit,

And have them tend to the bilge and careen,

And if it won’t come clean,

Have them walk the bowsprit,

And if they fail the balance test,

Drop them from the crow’s-nest.

Be sure to gangway,

For leeward they could sway,

To either larboard or starboard!

Yo-ho-ho! Which way will they go?

Who then shall it be?

Who dares fly the first marque?

Alexander and the Plunder

Alexander Selkirk was marooned for dishonest work,

And for a disagreement with William Dampier,

And was rescued by a one-legged quartermaster,

Who had been left by Drummond,

On the island of Juan Fernandez!

What were they left to face

In this desert place?!

There were goats and goats and goats,

More than the Chinese Junk boats,

And once they witnessed two sailors