It is a little after midnight,
driving along a dark highway.
There is only me out here,
listening to music
breaks the quietness.
The only conversation,
a silent one with myself.
 
The best time to think,
find solid perspective.
At the age I am living,
taking and sorting is a must.
 
Trying to figure out
what I am driving
from or to.
 
I am no longer that young kid
that gave my father fear
in what I was to become.
He knows that now
as I take care of him.
 
Thoughts of how blessed I am,
surrounded by great people
in my journey
even the quiet ones.
 
My mortality always creeps in
and then put away
as it leads to frightening thoughts.
 
The mind remembers
something my mother
told me many years ago
as I pull into my home.
No matter what
I would always be alright.
 
September 14, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021
 
 
 

​Storm clouds are rolling
all around, bringing humid heat
to the hot days of July.
Thunder where all you saw blue.
Fear in the emotions in every snap.
You can smell the heavy, frightened air.
 
Searing flames of destruction
tear apart the village of Lytton.
Fires burning buildings, homes.
People running to escape,
young adults watching parents burn.
No one knows for sure
what may have caused the melt
in one of those hot days in July.
 
In an industrial town in Bangladesh
a warehouse is used as a captive deathtrap.
Fifty-two mothers, fathers, daughters and sons
burned, trapped inside with no way out.
No exits from the heated walls.
The owner lit the match that
burned the lives away
in one of those hot days in July.
 
Cars flying through the air
as the floods form in Eastern China.
Raging rapids covering roads,
violence screaming from river waters.
People and houses tossed aside.
Twisters clearing an unforgivable path.
Destruction that must feast
during these hot days in July.
 
The heat of July days is taking over,
people are acting murderous,
senses of the earth scrambled.
Terror in unexpected places
harvesting in the hot days of July.
 
July 27, 2021
@Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021
 
 

​Watching the heavy rains
outside my stained window,
realize the sky is not
the only one with sadness.
 
My own heart is crying tonight,
tears from discovering
my elders from yesteryear,
that always preached the right thing,
have let all of us down.
 
Have always been told
how good we are as humans,
taking care of one another,
holding hands, protecting all.
Tonight, my body shakes in grief.
The words were all lies.
 
Mind is full of confusion,
learning how sinister
and, at times, still are
through the denial f wrongdoing.
 
Saddens my soul,
the elders preaching
how they and we are good.
All along they knew where
the bodies of the young
were buried while pleading innocence.
 
Everything, everyone I have believed.
I am now questioning this night
what is the truth, what is a lie?
All of it heavy on the heart
that cannot stop crying tonight.
 
July 10, 2021
@Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021

​Finally going home.
It has been a long year,
leaving a foreign land
where I saw things
that I never
thought I would.
 
Hoped I would not
get scarred like the others.
The ones that were there
before my tour arrived.
I heard their crying for home,
moaning and fighting
in the nightmares
the night shared.
 
That was a life
I became afraid of
under the sky of Afghanistan.
 
I went over as support
for the new foreign government
providing arms for humanitarian
relief and operations.
Seemed like I would be away
from the fighting and killing.
 
The sights are now
playing in my mind
when I close my eyes.
 
Saw remains of families
taken away by the violence.
Mother’s holding onto
their husbands after death.
Crying children when
homes were bombed away.
 
Destruction by us
or the Taliban,
I will never know.
The memories are chaotic
under fire.
 
Carried friends back to camp
not knowing if they
would live or die.
Enemy or friendly fire,
who knew in the confusion.
More than once
I thought I took the shot.
 
Breathing deep, almost home
carrying invisible baggage.
I have no one to talk to
about the shakes
or the substances
I started using to forget
Afghanistan.
 
June 16, 2021
@Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021

​Angry Sea
 
The waves of the sea
are angry at us all
for what our souls have become.
 
Bombs are burning the sister sky.
Families ding as they land
while we watch the horror
without blinking an eye
or saving a soul.
 
The sea watches us,
becomes violent
at every injustice we perform,
crashing to land.
Its waters taking
what we do not appreciate.
 
A plague is spreading
to all corners of the earth.
Searching for a cure
while citizens are not
protecting others.
Spreading a death sentence.
 
Waves crashing into the coast
taking people away
with each strike
to even the score.
The sea is full of rage.
 
Tsunamis are taking
communities away,
washing homes to sea.
Revenge waves.
 
Seas are red
from watching the damage
that we are doing.
Harming each other intentionally.
Our greed has taken hold.
Seas are rising,
fists drawn
and it is our fault.
 
May 19, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021

​The drums are beating
with sadness, sorrow now.
Crying with the stolen souls
of the innocent, lost children.
 
Buried so long ago,
never returned home
from the abuse
provided from captive walls.
 
Healing circles chanting
for the children’s spirit.
Mourning the loss,
the children who were
never given a chance.
 
Beautiful children
taken from their elders,
tortured and abused
to forget who they were
until they were murdered,
placed in a grave, forgotten
by the government and the church
who put them in the unmarked dirt.
Died being forced to assimilate.
 
Little spirits rise in piece
to be remembered,
given to the ancestors
to share in the healing
drumming around the fires,
tears lined over their hearts,
preying for the Lost Children.
 
June 1, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021

​Thomas stares out his window,
sitting at the kitchen table,
bills piled up beside his resumes.
Five months without work
aside from low paying odd jobs
from working on yards to food delivery.
Frustration lines his forehead.
Determined to stay constant,
some days are better than others
however it is mentally wearing.
Thomas sighs trying to believe
that this unpredictable time shall pass.
 
The evening comes with a glass of wine
for Margaret, alone in her living room,
attempting to adjust to a new life
after twenty-seven years of the same one.
Without a true explanation her partner left
leaving so many questions behind.
Where to start over?
What does the future hold?
Starting over bring fear.
With each sip, thoughts get stronger
holding onto the fact
that this time shall pass.
 
Stacy closes the door of her room
trying to digest another horrid school day.
Others hurling insults for no reason,
students that used to be friends
causing tears and confusing thoughts.
Sometimes Stacy wonders
if the abuse is worth going through,
determined she will get
past the next two years.
Stacy knows a new chapter will be soon.
This present time shall pass.
 
March 17, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2021

​So many marching,
looking for a place of acceptance
as they do not know who they are
or what direction they wish to go.
All they need is a path
set out before them to follow.
They do not see who is guiding them.
 
Those seeking spiritual enlightenment
took their journey to a place called Georgetown
to search for the teachings of Jim Jones
who taught them apostolic socialism.
As the people gathered in mass
reports came to others about abuses
by the temple members.
Life was not what the followers expected,
no enlightenment but punishments.
Children taken away, rarely seeing parents.
Monies taken to run the temple.
Under scrutiny of stress and outsiders
there were cyanide poisonings to all.
On November 18, 1978, Jonestown was dead.
Not one saw the guiding hand to the light.
 
In Axtell, Texas, many gathered,
waiting for an apocalypse
with the second coming
against the armed armies of Babylon.
Firearms and soldiers lined the compound
protecting the disciples inside the barrier
following the leader of the Branch Davidians.
Families waited inside while the law was outside
until the fiery end for all being led.
Flames taking lives in the chaotic compound.
Everyone looking down, praying,
not seeing who lit the match.
 
Students gather in a classroom
hoping to learn about multi-level marketing,
course upon course with slow steps
to get ahead within the organization.
Enthralled by personal and professional seminars
that were to grow the students.
Being hypnotized to follow, no question.
Ignoring the secret society
the students were buying into
until they were poor and sold.
Branded by the leader with his initials.
The pain never healed.
No one saw who burned the brand.
 
So many with empty thoughts
searching for a place to go
and follow the leader.
Blind, without question
only to feel impure.
Once they realize the path
that was taken to the current place.
Too late in realizing the truth,
questioning how they got there.
Doors opened by the unseen,
the Dark Figure that guided
down the sacrificing path.
 
April 7, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2021

​Only you can feel your struggle
that your mind sees
or thinks each day.
The loneliness that comes
with the unspoken words.
 
Promise others are feeling
the emotional pain also.
Different triggers, same feelings.
 
Never believe that your words
and thoughts and feelings
are the the utmost of importance.
They are.
 
Support is always out there
when it feels like all is lost.
Reach out.
 
You will be held up.
Outreached hands of support
are always there.
 
March 5, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021