The SwashBuccaTeer

Battle of Sanchon

(Originally published in the Secondlife Herald Aug. 11, 2008)

By Kris Dibou

Through mist covered seas with sails unfurled
In the wee hours in this part of the world
Came a dark-hued ship with captain and crew
Its cannons were out with freshly made fuse

So quiet they moved in light SL wind
Into the harbor of Sanchon, my friend,
Where glory awaits beneath misty-white shroud
"Or death on the sea", the captain did vow

The crimson-red stains remained on his blade
From many a battle and many a raid
His eye was fixed hard on the ship up ahead
Soon the wood planks would be covered red

Aware of the wind and his nautical speed
The captain gave orders, and the crew, they did heed
'Til broadside they were, with the red and gold brig;
Vollies of death flew into their rig

"To the north! To the north!" the lookout did scream
As another brig entered the fresh battle scene
Outmanned and outgunned, the pirates did flee
Back into the mist of the following sea

And when he was sure he was just out of sight
The pirate yelled "Starboard!" and they swung to the right
Into the port, with cannon and gun
They picked up supplies, then back on the run

They reentered the battle from behind the new foe
With one single volley to send them below
And as the sea swirled over each seaman's head
Bloody Dibou counted his dead.

In the harbor of Sanchon a lighthouse stands tall
But deep in its sea Davey Jones makes his call
And the pirate Dibou still sails with the breeze
Before the full moon, a silhouette on the seas.

"To the north! To the north!" the lookout did scream
As another brig entered the fresh battle scene
Outmanned and outgunned, the pirates did flee
Back into the mist of the following sea

And when he was sure he was just out of sight
The pirate yelled "Starboard!" and they swung to the right
Into the port, with cannon and gun
They picked up supplies, then back on the run

They reentered the battle from behind the new foe
With one single volley to send them below
And as the sea swirled over each seaman's head
Bloody Dibou counted his dead.

In the harbor of Sanchon a lighthouse stands tall
But deep in its sea Davey Jones makes his call
And the pirate Dibou still sails with the breeze
Before the full moon, a silhouette on the seas.

Kris has New Poem in The Herald

Hi Readers-

Check out my latest poem in The Herald: Rose-Tinted Monitor

Kris has New Poem in the Herald

Check it out here- http://foo.secondlifeherald.com/slh/2009/02/immersion.html

Black November - A Turkey's Lament

Here's a little Thanksgiving humor I found for our readers; enjoy!

Black November - A Turkey's Lament

Author Unknown

When I was a young turkey, new to the coop,
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop,

Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,
And he told me there was something that I had to know;

His look and his tone I will always remember,
When he told me of the horrors of ..... Black November;

"Come about August, now listen to me,
Each day you'll be thick, where once you were thin,
And you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin.

"And then one morning, when you're warm in your bed,
In'll burst the farmer's wife, and hack off your head;

"Then she'll pluck out all your feathers so you're bald'n pink,
And scoop out all your insides and leave ya lyin' in the sink,

"And then comes the worst part" he said not bluffing,
"She'll spread your cheeks and pack your rear with stuffing".

Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat,
I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat,

And decided on the spot that to avoid being cooked,
I'd have to lay low and remain overlooked;

I began a new diet of nuts and granola,
High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola,

And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes,
I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes,

I maintained my weight of two pounds and a half,
And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed;

But 'twas I who was laughing, under my breath,
As they chomped and they chewed, ever closer to death;

And sure enough when Black November rolled around,
I was the last turkey left in the entire compound;

So now I'm a pet in the farmer's wife's lap;
I haven't a worry, so I eat and I nap,

She held me today, while sewing and humming,
And smiled at me and said "Christmas is coming........"

The Flying Dutchman

(Editor's note: This poem first appeared in the Secondlife Herald on March 15, 2008, when it was announced Phillip Linden was stepping down.  Now in the wake of the OpenSpace sim price increase, as competing worlds are overrun with the fleeing avatars of SL, it is time to look at the poem again.  ~ke~)

The Flying Dutchman

by Kris Dibou

A captain-less ship flew past my watch,
A sign of things to be;
Where once the ship sailed straight and true,
Where once she sailed free;

She wanders lost on ragged seas
And seems to lose her way;

(Read more...)

The Strange Case of Teddy29

This ghost story was originally published in the Secondlife Herald for Halloween last year.  Most missed the point and thought it was real.  Notice that it has only been a week since they first met in the first section- this is the key to the ghost story.

          ~Kris

by Kris Dibou

Across the sims of Second Life
A story has been told
Of Teddy29 Barthelmess,
(Jerry Matthew Gold).

How, in despair, a young girl there
Was thinking of the end
When Teddy29 sat by her side
And became her closest friend

From the pits of despair to SL, where
He showed her heaven, painted
With particle clouds and setting sun
That never will be tainted.

(Read more...)

The Sweatsocks of Gor

(Editor's note: This was first published by the pirate Kris Dibou in the Secondlife Herald on July 9, 2008)

by John Norman-Greenbaum

In another world in the days of yore
I snuck a peek inside the world of Gor
I thought I'd seen all I abhore
Until I saw them lying on the floor
The vile Sweatsocks of Gor.

Wove of the wool of an abus'ed sheep
They stunk of her masters wet slimey feet
I ran far away, but still they did reek
Oh, my god! if only I hadn't peeked
At the vile Sweatsocks of Gor.     (Read more...)

Pirates are such Children

by Kris Dibou

Pirates are such children
As they take to sea to play
Little swords in little hands
Arrgh and Yargh all day

"Hey now you're not playing fair!
You're supposed to fall down dead!"
"Billy hit me with his ship!
He needs to go to bed."

"I won't play with captain bones
He says he thinks I cheat;
And one-eyed Jack gets hurt a lot
Playing in bare feet."

"My mom says not to play with you;
She doesn't like your mom-
and if you change the rules again
I'll play with two-gun Tom."

Pirates are such children
They battle and they bicker
But they keep on playing anyway
And make their rules more stricter!

Call of the Privateer

(Originally published in the Secondlife Herald April 22, 2008)

By Kris Dibou

The call of the sea is deep and strong,
Stronger than ale or beer;
But not as strong
As the siren's song
and the call of the privateer.

Pirates and corsairs sail the seas
Along with the buccaneers;
But the noblest rogue
Who's still in vogue
Is known as the privateer.

Yes, on the sea of Antiquity
We sail without doubt or fear;
For the Navy falls
Short on balls
To the call of the privateer.