The Ghosts of History
are rolling restlessly in their graves,
screaming at us to listen today.
 
They wonder aloud
as to why
we have not learned
from the destruction of the past.
 
Roads of progress
created from their blood
being cracked and soiled
by the ignorant.
 
People have not
placed in their hearts
the tribulations
that yesteryear
was to save for today.
 
Repeating the carnage
with the same horrid results
causing the Ghosts of History
to roll and scream in their grave.
 
September 9, 2022
© Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2022

​

I am the Dark Figure
that lays in the clouds.
A place you cannot see
pulling the strings
on many a puppet.
 
I was the one
that sat Pol Pat
in his leaderships claim
in the late seventies, Cambodia.
Filling his head on how to lead
causing millions to die
of famine and disease.
All the blame thrown
at this failure of the leader,
not one seeing the strings
guiding his corrupt mind.
 
I visited Nanjing
for six bloody weeks,
marching with Japanese troops,
guiding their bloodletting
on the Chinese.
Murder and rape
of hundreds of thousands.
Pushing the mind
to such destructive pathways
was not difficult
once the strings are pulled.
 
As soon as he came into power
I knew Adolf Hitler’s mind
would be easy to manipulate.
To think he was the only superior,
laying waste to those
Hitler thought were inferior.
Creating the murder of millions,
bloodshed through the European nations.
Creating and intentional war.
 
Pushing thoughts into weak minds,
so easy for the taking.
To do the invisible Dark Figure’s
chaotic, murderous bidding.
 
July 7, 2022
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2022
 

​I am a drifting one,
flying through the sky,
a spirit, invisible to the naked eye.
 
The lone tank man,
the one who stood in courage,
blocking tanks in Tiananmen Square,
full of courage and strength.
This drifting one held his hand,
giving unconditional support.
 
On that fateful bus of change
in the city of Montgomery,
one lady of colour
not moving, full of strength and belief.
This drifting one was there
providing a hand.
 
In Peru, when the plane crashed,
a brave seventeen-year-old
walked out of the Amazon
swollen, infected but alive.
This drifting one guided her downstream
to the opening of civilization.
 
I am the drifting one,
flying through the air of history,
a spirit, invisible to the naked eye.
 
August 4, 2022
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2022

​Dark Figure V
 
You do not think I can feel you.
The Dark Figure praying
down on my spirit.
I sense you always.
 
As the Dark Figure
you are the quiet
cause of many tragedies and death
all through the mixed pages of history.
 
The Queens of Fate
as well as you
love the smell of chaos
and fresh, running blood.
 
As I sit here,
see shadows of all of you.
You are impatiently waiting
for my soul’s turn.
 
Smile to self at the thought.
Many times, you and your servants
have tried to silence my heart.
The muscles and bones
have always healed.
 
You keep striking
however, I have a divine purpose
that you are selfishly to blind to see
and I am protected silently.
 
Dark Figure and the Queens of Fate
keep coming with your assault.
Until my path is completed
my time with you will not come.
 
November 18, 2021
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021
 

People around here call them Trash Pandas.
Visitors that come in the silence of the night
so, no one can hear or see them.
Searching our garbage for food.
 
See the remains of the search
every Wednesday morning.
They try so hard to clean up
however, it is impossible.
My broom picks up the remains.
 
I was up late one Tuesday night
when I heard the cans
being shuffled, searched through.
Quietly, I looked out the window.
Surprised by what I saw.
Always assumed it was animals
that made the community mess
but it was not.
 
In the dark, there was a shadow of two.
It looked like an adult and a child
trying to be quiet, invisible
as they went through the cans.
I watched however did not say a word.
 
After seeing this
I started making too much food
for one person to have on Tuesdays.
Made sure it was in a bag
on top of the curbside trash can
so, it could be easily fond.
 
I do not care what brought
these two to our nighttime neighbourhood.
That was not my business.
Never approached them either
so, I did not scare them
and they could keep a bit of dignity.
Everyone needs food.
 
I have heard neighbours grumble,
complaining every Wednesday
about the animalistic Trash Pandas
with a snarl on their faces.
 
Makes a person think to themselves
what would happen
if they ever became Trash Pandas themselves
how would they feel?
 
October 20, 2021
Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021

I feel you slithering around me
as I lay here, shaking, broken.
You only come around during these times.
When it is believed 
I am at my weakest. 

You and your other demons
have been hoping for this moment. 
I should have expected you
when the snap occurred
and my bones became weak.

The scream must have been 
your signal to try
what you and your kind
have attempted so many times before. 

Lessons should have been learned
each time you believe I am broken.
I am gathering strength to stand
against the demons you bring. 

One day you will learn 
I am not broken.

September 25, 2021
@Andrew Scott - Just a Maritime Boy 2021

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