Jake Weidmann
Semblance
"Salt, sea, and air are we ..."
Words become the very waves on which the vessel sails in this collaboration with poet and writer, Eleanor Perry-Smith. As a nod to history, the poem was written in a sixteenth-century English manor and crosses the Atlantic in its use of Spencerian script, the first American-style penmanship. This script was first inspired by the flow of moving water; it circulates back to its original muse in both form and function as the script becomes the sea. The words themselves are the image and their cadence lulls like water, sending out whispers of a sailor’s tale.
Semblance:
"Salt, sea and air are we
who wander 'cross the globe,
Yet tale be told and night behold
the hour my shadow froze
Voyage set as those before
crate packing merrily,
We pushed from port forevermore
but unbeknownst to me
The tide set high, vessel set sail
sun skipping on the waves,
How can it be this shining sea
is also host to graves?
My thoughts turned bright and chest filled tight
with heaven’s purest wind,
A red sky rose to our delight
a gift from our glowing friend
The crew at ease with such degrees
our latitude assured,
Our gullets soaked in God’s brown ale
went sleeping filled with his word
But ‘ere the cover of the night
cast horrors yet unseen,
Water frothed and shook about
as souls rose from beneath to feed
A cry rang from the crow’s nest
and I, but half awake,
Rose to face with hazy grace
the threat my life to take
Yet we were unprepared as such
for on what our eyes did gaze,
the dripping apparitions
cast from the ocean’s deepest graves
Our fortune set to rising
the dawn began to wake,
but it eclipsed and so we missed
the chance our souls to save
The crescent of the orb
shown behind the cold moon rock,
Not enough glory to command
our banshees to stop
They swept throughout the vessel
the crew they petrified,
Covered in a binding frost
Yet somehow I survived!
The soul it did not see me
and in a manner I don’t claim to know,
Protruding light concealed my bones
and curse was cast upon my shadow
At last the light awakened
gulls called out to the day,
alone I sat upon the deck
all hands were swept away
Though the sun it blistered
on my back it bluntly shined,
As I stared upon the planks
I was lacking in an outline
Feeling as half a man
revenge grabbed hold my heart,
I would wait for those savage souls
and take back my shadow in the dark
As night sank in, once again
those spooks rose up to feed,
and surprised they were, as with my torch
I sought what belonged to me
Alas I found it nowhere
but the spooks I recognized,
They were my own crew from before
yet in their damned disguise
I was born a fighter
a sailor second best,
So sailing about forevermore, I roam
till my outline sinks back into my chest."
For more on Eleanor Perry-Smith and her writing, please visit http://www.ep-s.com/