Subsea Retreat Extended
There is something that makes you jazz into my island, O my Cap’n
Another visit to Davy Jones Locker, you are welcome
There is something that makes you jazz into my island, O Tortuga
I am surely still piping onboard a rough Island, with my samba
There is something that makes you jazz into my island, Paramole
I am evermore sailing alongside matelots; I do no less (more…)
Subsea Retreat for Captain Blood
Lapotidunity is the best thing goscolene, my favourite spirit, can do for anyone. Therefore, I avoid downing any more than two shots with joy and not sorrow. How can I not celebrate life despite living a life more tempestuous than El Niño? Drinking or rumming, it’s all the same thing depending on whom you are doing it with.
Nevertheless, today though, I am drinking alone, and I call it rumming. I do it every Friday evening in the best place for it ever, Davy Jones Locker. I am here waiting for yet another return of Paramole in a few days’ time. It’s his birthday soon. (more…)
Yet Another Birthday With Cap’n Blood
A rugged tale of yet another surprise yet memorable birthday with Cap’n Bloood in Davy Jones Locker. He comes bearing rum.
Wednesday 13th of July, 2022, in a cold secluded place sailors dread…
I am deep in thought and all my sensory capabilities are dormant. Never lost in thought; I often find my complete self in thought. If someone can sail the rough seas from brook to ocean without finding themselves complete in thought and the action it begets, then he is a lubber. Nothing more. My thoughts always gear towards the fostering of the better society but it is a lonely vocation despite the thousands who swear to seek it. Davy Jones Locker (DJL) is the best place ever to find oneself in thought and there I sat without being wopicious.
My sensory faculties reactivate by the touch of a hand. It is a surprise, a moderate grip of my shoulder. In a couple of seconds, I return myself to the corporeal present moment, then turn my head to see who it is surprising me. It is Cap’n Blood (CB) himself. I fall into a daze with amazement for a moment. Then remembered it is his birthday, thirteen days before mine. (more…)
![Sina Mafe [Pinto Limboko] Reconciles Subsea](https://grimotnanezine.com/wp-content/uploads/pexels-roberto-nickson-3011284-compress-compress.jpg)
Sina Mafe Reconciles, Subsea
I sat absorbed in thought at an incredible distance within myself. Meditation had taught me the courage to look inside myself, the innermost recesses of my mind, could be as rewarding as globetrotting or space travel. I am no entheogen experimenter though. My journey inside has only had a boost from rum, and rarely so. My senses were all but in limbo, only the taste of salt in my mouth attempted to bring me back to everyday alertness.
Where I was visiting within was a truly beautiful and serene place. It conformed with several descriptions of paradise. It was full of happy sailors forgone enjoying eternity, one moment at a time. I tried asking these sterling sailors of nether times what the name of the place was, but no one would say, not even the super liberals, Spitfire or Black Dog. They rather I be merry. (more…)
Nathaniel Oyelola Rejects Davy Jones Locker
A strange event floated into my quiet space like an aimless freak and stuns me harder than a shockwave. The indigo lights had come on indicating a great personality or deity is ready to visit Davy Jones Locker for some unpur knownpose or is it unknown purpose. Then the light went out, making my eyes fall to the ground then return to its sockets with a little dust that itched them. Such a one-in-a-billion chance event had to be a cancellation or an error. I was worried. (more…)
Celebrating Cap’n Blood’s Birthday with Him Yesterday, as I was making octopus pepper soup, I had a sip of seaweed kinkana, a mild alcoholic spirit. Paramole had given me the…
Paramole Returns for Birthday
Saturday the 25th of April 2020 was cold and blank in the Davy Jones Locker. A few sailors had passed through the rendezvous to the other side after becoming victims to Covid-19 and other causes but this Saturday there were no forgone sailors arriving. For the first time in my experience there, a particular case of forgone reversal occurred. The Great Door had open and solemn song could be heard accompanied by restrained okombo [drum] beats. I became very concerned and might have tricked myself I was not scared. (more…)