My poem, "The Legend of the Flying Dutchman" has
been nominated for the 2011 Rhysling Award and
appears in the 2011 Rhysling Anthology (link to Amazon).
by B.J. Lee
(artwork copyright D. Diorio 2010)
might sink ships that draw near.
Not every vessel knows this though
or they would flee from fear.
The crewmen of the ghost ship
don’t know they’ve passed away.
They call to every boat they see,
with hope amidst the spray:
"A letter for my lady
alone in Amsterdam.
Pray bring it to her, will you, friend,
and tell her where I am."
"Please take these whalebone jacks
I whittled for my boy.
Don't have much hope in getting home;
they’ll give a little joy."
Wise captains answer sternly,
"Can't take your tokens, mates.
But rest assured we'll spread the word --
we saw you at death’s gates."
The Dutchman rides forever;
its sails like wings to fly.
Who knows when next it will be seen
midst storm and crashing sky?
to work the Far East trade.
Around the Cape they planned to sail,
their fortunes to be made.
Their brig, the Flying Dutchman,
fought hard to round that Cape.
The sea rose high, the tempest raged --
each run a close escape.
The first mate begged the captain,
"Please turn this ship around.
We’ll never make it. Can’t you see?
The men will all be drowned!"
The captain, Vander Decken --
a madman -- cursed the skies:
"We'll pass the Cape or drift for’ere."
(That oath was his demise.)
The Flying Dutchman vanished --
took on a ghost ship form.
T’was cursed to sail forevermore
around in its own storm.
A score of years passed by
when sailors at their posts,
cried, "It’s the Dutchman, come and see!
Its shipmen look like ghosts!"
