Blackbead

I can think of no better quotation than the one that makes up me signature line . . . "In the end, it's not the gold that sets our sails; 'Tis freedom and the promise of a better life That raises our black flags." Blackbead

Congratulations, Steve!! That's GREAT!! I iwsh you even more success in the future! Blackbead "The OTHER Steve"

I'm baaaa-aaaaack! Scarborough Faire's pirate invastion weekend was a blast!! But now it's time to get back into action. First of all, it appears that "Pirate Soul" may be taken as a title. The title has been used by Pat Croce in a previous book. We now have approximately 29 pages of material!! Once we get up to sixty, then I intend to put it all together and send copies to everyone. We'll do exactly like the original pirate crews did - we vote on each work to see if we want, as a crew, to include it in the book. If a poem is not voted in initially, that doesn't mean that an author can't work on the piece and then resubmit it. I'm still shooting to have a book ready for publication by the beginning of November. I want to make the Christmas season so that we can sell copies as gifts to the piratically inclined! Keep working, folks!! Blackbead

Ahoy, everyone! Looks like we're getting somewhere - at least seven poets and three artists have indicated interest! We are currently up to 28 pages of material with more on the way! We need to start thinking about a title and there is brainstorming going on as we speak. So far, the discussion has netted some very interesting ideas - 1. The Soul of the Pirate (or something like that) 2. Running Out the Guns 3. Raising the Black Flag 4. Poets of the Sea 5. Pirate Poets But the list can go on and on. Keep thinking, writing, painting and creating! This weekend I am off to Scarborough Faire to wander through their "Long John Silver Pirate Invasion" Weekend. I'm sure there will be plenty of inspiration out there! Talk to you soon! Blackbead

Well, Monday it was homemade jaeger schnitzel with pan-fried potatoes and green beans, last night it was beef medallions with scalloepd potatoes and corn, but tonight is the night I hang out with the young man that I mentor so we'll probably wind up at Bennigans. That MIGHT break up the "meat and potatoes" regimen! Blackbead

Rumba, I'll add it to the list! How 'bout Pirates, Poets, and Privateers? Blackbead

AH-ROOOOOOOOO!! Great! Then send me a couple of pirate poems by email and we'll get going. Red Bess and I are already working on the project (and there are a couple of other pirate poets and artists also slaving, uh, I mean laboring away) and we're currently working on coming up with a title. Let's do some electronic brainstorming and see if we can come up with a title. Glad to have ye aboard, matey! Blackbead

Welcome Black Rory! Play us a tune that we can all sing to! And to wet me whistle, stand me a pint o' black on the harper's account! Blackbead

10 of 12! But two of them were just lucky guesses. As Napoleon said, "Give me a general who is lucky!" Blackbead "In the end, it's not the gold that sets our sails, 'Tis freedom and the promise of a better life That raises our black flags." Stephen Sanders 2008

Ahoy, Rumba! Be ye interested in joinin' us on this mad adventure?!?!? I hope so, lass, as I'd love to carry ye with us! I'll PM ye . . . . Blackbead

Just a bump to get the thread back in action. WHile I'm here: Some pirates had parrots for pets, Some monkeys, some frisky ferrets. But as for me crew, Only an elephant will do: They're HUGE but they never forget! Looks like we have four poets and two artists interested in creating this work of literature. Anyone else? Blackbead

No worries, mate! I had a feeling that you were looking for a different venue but I wanted to ask. Good luck in your search! Blackbead

Good day to ye, Cap'n Bones, I be currently working with two of the other folk here at the pub on a book of poetry that will include illustrations. This may not be what you be lookin' for but here be a sample of the work that be makin' up the book: THE HOMECOMING OF DANNY FRY It was a cold, stormy night at the Rose & Crown But all of me regulars were there; The village of Tween is a proper English town And I serve proper English fare. A soul can live a long, hard life Without traveling from home too far, A few snotty brats, taxation and debt Are fair substitutes for the plague and war. Sitting in the corner was a proof of me point It was Tom Johns, our town’s overworked tailor. With a family of four and a poor clientele He barely stayed ahead of the King’s gaoler. Most of his pints he drank for free - He mended me pants and shirts instead. I felt sorry for the lad: he couldn’t sew his taxes And he couldn’t pay his rent with thread. There were others in the Crown that night And all were cut from poor Tom’s mold. Clutching their mugs and staring into space, They stayed to keep out of the rain and the cold. I was standing back of me bar, pondering all of me friends, When there was a sudden commotion outside; With a bluster and a curse and a cold wet wind The front door of me pub burst open wide. In strode a man in a tricorn’ hat Sporting a long beard and a cutlass at his hip, Wearing buckets, a sash, and a seaman’s coat He looked like the captain of a pirate ship. With a twinkle in his eye and a toothy gold smile He took in me pub and the sad-looking crowd. Shivering off his wet jacket then turning to the room, He bellowed out a greeting clear and loud: “I’ve sailed with brigands, black, brown, and white; I’ve drunk whole wine kegs dry; I’ve taken gold prizes from the Spanish and the French; And I’ve cheered as me guns let fly.” “I’ve sailed ‘neath starry, Caribbean skies; I’ve rounded the Cape to the Horn; But after spending half me life at sea I’ve returned to the village where I was born.” “Chests of gold and jewels have I And I have stories from where ‘ere I roam, So come, me hearties, the drinks are on me, ‘Cause I’ve come back to make Tween me home!” His gaze met a room of glazed-over looks, These men who life had beat down, So the pirate strode to the center of the room, And cast his weather eye all around. “Well, well, lookee there, it’s little Tommy Johns, I remember ye from when I was a lad. Remember stealing milk from Squire Hunt’s cows? Right little imps we were, but never really bad.” “And look over there! It’s me ‘ol friend, Pat! I hear ye left the Army late last year. I’ll bet your mother was glad to have ye home; Now there’s a lady I always held dear.” One by one, he called us all by name And reminded us we’d known him in days gone by, And it soon dawned upon me that ’neath that shaggy beard, Was me old friend and neighbor, Danny Fry. Rising to their feet me regulars let out a cheer And all came forward to shake Danny’s hand. Then he tossed me a pouch of silver and gold And ordered up a feast both great and grand. As the cook went off to prepare the huge meal, I poured out the pub the first round of beer, Then stoking the fire, Danny began to regale us With tales of his life as an English privateer. He told us of sacking great cities As he plundered the enemies of the Crown And he told us of taking a galleon After bringing it’s mainmast down. Danny made us feel we were with him As he talked of a ruby necklace and more That he took from a willing French lady, After safely putting her ashore. Danny knew how to tell a story And we would listen again and again As he told of his grand adventures And the treasures he shared with his men. Everyone ate and drank their fill that night, As we devoured Danny’s tales of the sea. We forgot all about our troubles - We were happy, we were men again, and we were free. With laughter and smiles and friends arm in arm, We all stumbled off into the morning light, But none of us cared as we faced our red-eyed day: Because of Danny, we’d all become pirates that night! Stephen Sanders © 2008 The book will be entirely poetry so that may not be something you be interested in; if not, no harm done and I'll wish ye fair winds. But, if ye have a mind to discuss this further, drop me an epistle and we can take up a talk. Blackbead

Ahoy, Matt! I talked with both NQG and PW about publishing some of my work and Steve suggested that I talk to someone at your magazine. This idea, however, came up. I've already published two other books of poetry through this company and this one should be easy by now! Looks like there are at least two other people interested, maybe three. I have enough pirate poetry to get almost 25 pages of copy and I know Red Bess is going to add some excellent stuff! I'll let everyone know when it's available. Blackbead

Same Bat time? Same Bat channel? Are we dating ourselves?? Yes.

Aye, m'Lady! If ye have some artwork that you'd like to get out there in a book Red Bess and I are working on then we'd love to talk with ye. It's going to be a self-published work through an online company. If ye are interested, all we'd need is a .jpg of it. If you want, I'll send you the poems that we've collected so far and ye can get an idea of the type of book we're doing. Blackbead

Wonderful, Red Bess! I don't think this will make any of us RICH but it will definitely make for a good time! When you get the time, drop me a line with the poems you are interested in putting in our book. I intend to submit "Danny Fry", "Prize Island," and am currently working on a poem called "The Captain's Coat." I think if we can get fifty pages of poems and B&W illustrations we should be good to go. Let's see who else wants to sign on . . .

Welcome back, lass! It was incredible getting to meet you and sharing some booth time. I hope to see some of your pictures soon and I'll be sending some of mine your way. Steve

Ahoy, everyone! I have a proposition for all poets (and artists) who have not published before but who would like to see if they can make a ducat or two from their poems or artwork. I've recently self-published two books of poetry and am adept at the process it requires. One of the poems is entitled "The Homecoming of Danny Fry." It tells the tale of a young Englishman who goes to sea, becomes a member of a privateer crew (at some point becoming captain), and then, after years of being at sea, he comes home to live out his life in the village where he was born. His first night home he goes back to a friend's pub and spends all night drinking and feasting with his old friends and telling tales of his life at sea. That would be the first poem in the book . . . All of the rest of the book would be filled with poems about pirates and their adventures. These poems (and any accompanying artwork) would represent the tales that Danny Fry told to his friends. Danny Fry would not have to be a character in any of these other poems or would never even have to be mentioned and the tales could be about ANYTHING so long as they had a pirate connection. Here's an example: Prize Island We were sailing in the northern latitudes, A day off the Florida Coast. Water we had, and limes and bread, It was a prize that we needed the most. The crew had come aboard at Holetown , A fine bunch of salts if ye ask me, But a man signs articles for treasure. It’s the reason we all put to sea. The war with France had lingered And Spain had come into the fight; With so many enemies to choose from There was still nary a foe in sight. The men were restless and weary, But I feared no mutiny from below, For these were good English sailors, Men from Cardiff, and Portsmouth, and Wicklow. But a captain has to keep his reputation By making sure he finds gold for his men. A captain that can’t find prizes Will never get a crew again. I was on deck talking to me helmsman, A good lad from near Aberdeen, When the lookout shouted down a sightin’ And it was the prettiest sight that I’d ever seen Me spyglass caught a sail on the horizon And I ordered on more canvas for speed. We had the weather gauge in our favor, We’d have all of the wind we would need. We soon gained ground on our quarry, We’d be on her before the morning was out, And with the crews that were manning me cannon The outcome was never in doubt. As we came within safe hailing distance, I caught a stench that I can still smell: The ship was a filthy French slaver, Carrying poor souls straight to Hell. Me men realized it was a slaver And the ship went as silent as the grave; In me crew were many a Redleg And even a runaway slave. I called down from the quarterdeck But me crew had already stood to. This was a decision for all of us And I asked them what they wanted to do. “Men, we’ll find no gold here, Not till they’ve sold off their slaves; We’d be fightin’ to free men from bondage And for that I won’t wager your graves.” “This is a decision for all of us, One we must make to a man. Do we sail away from the danger Or do we do what little good we can?” The cheer with which the crew answered Must have caused the French to turn white, ‘Cause they loosed their sails and their colors And gave up to us without a fight. My men seemed a trifle disappointed, Especially the ex-slave Shombay . We all wanted to do a little cutting But we’d save it for some other day. I’ll never forget crossing onto that vessel, The smells, the sounds, the blood; So many of the poor wretches were dying But we did whatever we could. We freed near two hundred that morning, Many women, some children, but mostly men. Some just stood on the deck in silence, Others shed tears to be free again. But some danced wild savage dances And called out to their gods in the sky, Those white smiles in those inky black faces I’ll remember till the day I die Both ships got underway before nightfall And we sailed south-southeast all next day, Till we spotted an island off of Cuba, A proper place for these people to stay. It had fresh water, wild pigs and some coconuts And not another soul that we could see. If our friends were going to survive here The world would have to let them be. The Frenchies we left on the island, After making them bury the slaves who had died, And I can’t think of a more proper memorial Than the tears the big Shombay cried. What happened, you ask, to the French slavers? Well, your guess is as good as mine. But I may find out in the future: I mean to visit that place again sometime. After three days we left the island, Without gold or anything we could spend, But there wasn’t a single member of me “bloodthirsty” crew Who didn’t feel that we were richer men. Stephen Sanders © 2008 For the purposes of the book, the poems would be tied together with this artifice but the true nature of the book would be a compilation of pirate poetry and each poem would be ascribed to the poet who wrote it as in any compilation. AND EVERYONE WOULD SHARE IN ANY SALES THAT WE AMASSED. We would take the total income for each book and divide it up amongst us per the number of works each person submitted. I will foot the bill for the original publication and do the work of putting it togther. Everyone who had work chosen to be in the book would get to see the completed work before it went out and we would not publish anyone's work without their approval in the final product. I intend to have three, possibly four, poems in the final work but I WOULD ALSO INTEND ON TAKING AN ADDITIONAL 10% UNTIL MY EXPENSES ARE PAID BACK. That means that from the very beginning, even with the first book published, each writer would begin to amass proceeds. For instance, say each book netted $3 for the group (after the publisher's costs) - I would take thirty cents to go to the repayment of the approximately $100 that it's going to cost to publish and the other 90% would be split up between the authors involved dependent on the number of works that each author supplied. If someone was entitled to 25% of the remaining profit, that would entitle them to approximately 68 cents. If we sell 100 books then that means you get $68. And once the expenses are paid, I no longer will take the additional ten percent. ANd the accounting books will be open to everyone. I'm in this for the long haul and I don't expect to sell a million of these in the first year. But I would carry copies at each of the shows that I do and I've already sold several of my own books at these shows. It would be on my website and there could be links on any websites you wished to the publisher's website. If we ever do sell a few thousand of them then who knows where this can go. BUT AT THE VERY LEAST, YOU WOULD HAVE YOUR WORK PUBLISHED. This is just the basic idea - if anyone is interested, please respond here in the topic and we'll go from there. I hope to hear from you, MANY of you, and I hope that we can put together a book that we are all proud of and which will make us all a little money! Blackbead AKA Steve Sanders

Red Bess and Joe, Ahoy there, and thank you both for your kind words! I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner but I failed to do a search for the latest postings since I logged on. I've sold several copies of the book so far but I've just recently done a "black and white" version which reduces the cost to only $7 a copy! It doesn't include the pictures but I think most people are going to want to read the poems, not look at the pictures. I've also come up with an idea . . . how many other pirate poets do you think there are on the forum? Do you think anyone would be interested in compilation book of pirate poems? Let's see . . . Blackbead

Did you sell the coat?

I still think Depp should do a version of "The Scarlet Pimpernel." After doing Jack Sparrow, Si Percy should be a "dog fall."

M'Lady: I bespoke these exact same queries to the proprietor in chief of this most excellent festival. He says to me, he does, "we're looking into several options, one of which being a larger place with one big room for the vendors and smaller rooms for the various talks, and the like. The tradeoff there being that this would require more coin, if ye be gettin' me meaning." There be a lot of discussion going on right now with all sorts of factors floatin' in the breeze - how far do we want to stray from the Vieux Carre? How much is too much to ask the vendors to pay for booth space? What's the value of having a bigger place if the rooms are too expensive for most of the folks who want to attend? I think it may be some time before we hear anything new unless there be a miracle occur and some incredible sponsor appear on the horizon to make all of these questions moot. Your humble servant, Blackbead

Ahhhh, Rumba Rue! It was such a genuine pleasure making your acquaintance in "feel" life! Captain Japser and I were overjoyed that we could add a little bit of coin to your purse by selling your booty . . . wait, I hope that among this scurvy band of pirates that they won't be taking that last comment in the wrong way! Anyway, God bless ye, me girl, and I hope and pray that you can be there next year and many years to come! Love and light to you and yours! Blackbead

Congratulations, Mungo!! I wish you success in your writing endeavors! It's a hard life being an author, at times. I have to admit, last weekend was one of those times when it pays off in spades. I had a couple of copies of me book on display at PyrateCon and had an experience every author dreams of - a wonderful woman stopped by me booth and after reading one of me poems, looked up at me with the book in her hand and said simply, "I'll have this." Cockles warmed, I even got the chance to autograph it for her. It's a great feeling having someone "get it." I wish you innumerable moments like that! Blackbead