Read Poem: HERE IS A DARK, YET HOPEFUL POEM, by Hristo Petkov

We sail on a rowing ship

and the captain is drunk with glory

we have a poet on board

who’s supposed to record our story.

But the poet has his hands tangled

and his language is poor on words

that can describe our strangled

existence in this miniature world.

The cook has been too kind to us

always trying to cheer our souls

for him a lovely meal’s a must

and yet it ends in the shithole.

It doesn’t seem like hope is lost

if you judge by the drunken sailors

singing about a distant coast

and the treasures of an old pirate whaler.

And so, we all keep rowing

hoping to reach a new land

despite the smarter of us knowing

it will hardly change our stand.

The waves will rock us day by day

the colors slowly will degrade

the deck will be in disarray

and all of our ambitions fade.

And once we crash amidst a storm

the fish will have a fattening feast

to know this, oh it feels so warm

I can hope for this at least.