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The Red Ship Passes / Part The First

It isn’t that we had no warning.

Hell, even Paw, the cat/kitten.

Black as Death with one white mitten,

Knew it was coming.

Knew (perhaps) before the rest of us.

And fishing boats, the last couple of days,

Have left notes in the Message Box,

Down on the Lighthouse dock.

One of the notes had been relayed

From the brigantine, HMS Buzzard,

Informing of this passage into the harbour,

And the night this would be done.

So, As Lighthouse Keeper, I await

On the Lighthouse dock,

In my navel uniform,

Which I am sometimes

Expected to wear,

Since I represent the might

Of Majesty,

As sole subject, yet overlord,

Of the Lighthouse on Partridge Island.

Waiting for the Red Ship to pass.


You can feel the still on the sea.

You can understand why they have awaited

This shroud of fog.

You can,

With my vantage point atop the Lighthouse,

See the approaching ship, with each

Of its lanterns

Glowing through red glass.

You can imagine the unfurled red sails.

So, I stand,
And I wait,

With my own red lantern,

And wish I were hunkered down

With Paw, the cat/kitten,

Who chose his hiding place

An hour ago.


{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2024 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

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HURRICANE

I knew,
By the way 

The hair on the 
Back of my neck
Stood up,
While facing into

The wind from the ocean,
That a hurricane
Was on its way.  

So, I didn’t need
Paw, my cat/kitten,
Black as a storm

With one white mitten,
To be caterwauling,
And racing around
The lee of the lighthouse,

At my feet.
He was not happy!
And maybe none of us,
Will be,
This time tomorrow.

{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

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Gotta say, this is a very good (and succinct) introduction to Kafka (and I LUV “The Castle”) Kafka Interactions

My history with the work of Franz Kafka, a year before his centennial. || Dick Turner

Source: Kafka Interactions

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History As It’s Known In The Writing World

While reading some literary site about Amazon,, I came across the fact that “Harriet Klausner, an esteemed Amazon reviewer who wrote more than 31,000 book reviews, died”. All power to her – that is quite a feat. However, I took more note of her last name, one I had not thought of for a long time.

In my tenure as an author in the world, I have had four or five agents. And I am currently looking anew. At the far beginning of my time, before I was published, I had the New York agent Bertha Klausner – at the start of my career and near the end of hers. She started her agency before I was born and was working two months before she died in 1998 at the age of 96.

Back in those over the transom days, one stuffed typed pages into an envelope, sent them off with return postage on another envelope, and waited up to three months for a reply. And when it came back, you sent it out again. One of my envelopes went to the Bertha Klausner Agency.

However, when it came back, it had other people’s manuscripts in it, and (to my memory)  little handwritten notes politely saying no. Mistakes happen even at revered agencies, so I sent it all back explaining what had happened. She replied, with neither apology or thanks, annoyed that mistakes do happen and adding, “Say, you must have something. Do you want to send it to me?” Which I did.

As I said, communications were through slow mails (slow on her side, as with literary agents to this day).  I assume she was initially, both being polite though seeing some promise in what I wrote.

But after a year or so she said – in effect – ‘thanks but no thanks’, and I sent things to other agents and eventually sold my first novel by, indeed, sending it directly to an editor in New York over the transom,.

I don’t think I knew that Bertha Klausner had such a stellar career until I looked her up. An agent for decades, she had famous names like Upton Sinclair, Israel J Singer, Eleanor Roosevelt and Fidel Castro. She even represented actor Basil Rathbone.

I imagine I would have become a lost tale.

Dale Estey

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The Hurricane Brings Peril To The Lighthouse And All Ships At Sea

Given enough warning

From ships along the coast

I got the Partridge Island Lighthouse

And Paw, my cat/kitten,

Black as the murderous clouds,

With one white mitten,

Ready for the worst.

And the Worst came.

It was so bad I figure

Even Jesus took cover.

The Lighthouse is thicker

And stronger

Then the Keeper’s house

So that’s where we stayed.

A tiny room inside the stone walls,

Nicely curved to curl the wind away.

I’d put in a narrow cot, and

Me and the cat/’kitten

Got our rest

Although not much sleep.

When I went up to

Trim the wick

I thought those windows might

Cave right in.

Today,

A couple of ships

Limped past,

And our shoreline

Has been altered.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

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What Will Survive?

The anti-Christ & Hershey’s Kisses

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22 02 2022

Two be or not two be


22 02  2022

Or, if you want to wait closer to the witching hour.

22:22  22  02  2022

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Not A Wild Goose Chase, But A Groundhog On Groundhog Day

Paw, my cat/kitten,
Black as coal
With one white mitten.
Is bemused with me
(I think).
I took him out
To hunt down

The damned groundhog,
On Groundhog Day.
Though
I admit
I’ve never seen a
Groundhog
On this island.
But, I’d point,
And tell him to run.
And he did,
Until
He stopped.
Which wasn’t long
Into my tomfoolery.
Gotta say
My cat/kitten
Puts up

With a lot.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}
DE BA. UEL

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We Saw Three Deer Eating In The Snow Storm

Hearty enough were we two Maritimers out in the heavy, yet soft. snow storm. Heavy enough to dull most sounds. Soft enough to make a cautious walk relatively easy.

And, as we most times do, we paused to look into the gully to see if there were deer. There often are. And, even through the snow, we saw three, a guess being a doe and two offspring. The distance is about two city blocks away, although there are no city blocks. We have seen them there before.

And – as usual – they apparently heard us, as they stopped in their tracks and look. But so did we. So, in a few minutes, they resumed their activity. This time they were under some large trees, munching away on something on the ground. Grass and earth under a tree does not get as covered in snow. The larger deer even nibbled from the branches.

Our scent, in addition to our appearance, was generally obscured by the snow. They did not leave as they usually do.

So, we left them to their meal and their solitude. And the peaceful beauty of the falling snow.

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