Seafaring Women (like me)


Why do mariners blow kisses through deadly, desirous storms?

Narratives are always dripping dreams, mantras for damsels and maidens timidly indexed and awaiting content at wharfed bays.

Imagination can ride any vessel patterned by men who love the sea. Husky moods, courageous tones and an aire of mispronunced words, salted by the taste of the ocean fauna.

Hue was his name, illustrated by treasures unearthed, a collateral of rainbows along a stretch of false impressions.

So often, romantic destinies are paraphrased thru delusional transformation and mystical recurrences.

There are no landscapes between emotions and seduction, only water. Becoming a mermaid is a cheap tradeoff from onshore to offshore into the arms of the open sea. Any hopeful maiden like “me” would honor the vow of compatibility with designer coral reefs”.

But, his sea-filled heart was boastful, a curdling deceit of crushing rip tides, unscrupulously lusting for squirmy slimey urchins, leeches and eels.

Let me exclaim, he was painfully “X’d” and scarlet tempera seeped from the outlines of my freezing rage. Sure, I was out-of-character, and even more so when revenge met the challenges of many short-lived thrills. They were edited in a quandary of trenching sequences. And, I spelled each one of them “out”, one-by-one.

Never no more a commodore, nor a lifeguard, or any surfers; no fisherman of illusory flights nor harnessings of skippered boat captains from erie canals whose grimaces freckled like stories of pirates.

As you may have concluded, I was lured by this series wannabe special characters, who were unauthored and who were writing their own adventures.

Now here I am, a breathless muse, subsiding, twirling in an ocean upstream, then downstream cringing amongst the clamors of glassy, gritty, grainy confetti, pearls and seashells. Then, a hurl of dips bottles me afloat. Why do winds of an abusive ocean keep reaching out for me, like the hands of mad men? Oh how badly I want to get to the mainstream of solid land, ship-to-shore.

A rush of drowning memories pour from the left side of my incoherent heartbreaks. My liquidated silhouette splatters allover the shorelines of an awakening sunset. I am an undefined wet scribble. That is, until the season’s gentle solstice trace the lines of my origin. Alas, I am recaptured. No plans, would I ever have to contact any of those thematic characters, even with small letters. And, at this point, I have decided that all of my scripts should be cached, and in “ALL CAPITAL$”. Yes, I had finally reached the “BANKS”. It was here that a longshoreman messaged his love directly onto my keyboard. I was his “Type”. And, it was poetry published.

Vigils of fluttering seagulls, swallows and yearlings with contrasting pelican croonings, plumaged into the skies above the pages of the open sea.

©2019 TheBubblyTipsyMermaid All rights reserved

Old Lahaina Maui Mermaids



There are fabrications, tall tales, folklores, legends and myths:

Here are two separate Hawaiian families who similarly, had three daughters. In each family, As sisters, the three daughters were close. And these sisters from both families were all in love with three brothers, who were sons of the Island Chieftain Kapu pu’u.


Kapu pu’u’s sons were strong, handsome fishermen and wild-game hunters who could have their pick of any tribal beauty.


Woefully, the three sons of Kapu pu’u were torn because, it was a tribal custom that their choices be made from only one family of sisters.

The three brothers loved watching the beautiful, exotic three sisters of one family dance the hula, while enjoying the cooking of the other family of three sisters who noble and made food for luaus.

All were irresistible to the chieftain’s sons, and the sisters from both tribal families were aware of it. Competition between the two families of sisters was an eye-catching situation.

The three hula sisters tried their hardest to cook better luau dishes than the three noble sisters. And, the three noble sisters tried their best to enticingly dance the hula. Both families of sisters never attempted crossover to the talent of their rival.

Which family of sisters would win the hearts of chief Kapu pu’u’s three sons?

The story ends with Kapu pu’u’s three sons marrying the three sisters who were noble cooks.

The hula sisters were so sad and shamefully heartbroken that they shed their garments and took to the depths of a Hawaii’s shoreless, blue-coral Seamount lagoon.

There is a rumor that a mermaid has been seen wiggling around, in the depths of the nearby ocean, entertaining sea life, in a hula dance motion.

The unfounded two bodies of the three hula sisters remain a mystery!

Originally posted on: TheBubblyTipsyMermaid

©2019 TheBubblyTipsyMermaid (TIB) – all rights reserved

“Its a Mermaid!”


Girls Singing through the Ocean’s SoundWaves

Mermaid Duets – Villanelle

by PenAllen

Mermaids love to sing shanty songs
in two-part descant harmony.
Sailors can’t tell bights from gone wrongs.

They don’t care to hear buoy gongs
for ding-dongs hold no mystery.
Mermaids love to sing shanty songs.

The maids have no need of sarongs
because their fishtails swim fancy free.
Sailors can’t tell bights from gone wrongs.

They’re heard over forty furlongs
and Poseidon is filled with glee.
Mermaids love to sing shanty songs.

Seal’s flippers clap hammer and tongs
when their friends sing songs of the sea.
Sailors can’t tell bights from gone wrongs.

You won’t find them in bilabongs
or at any landlocked party.
Mermaids love to sing shanty songs.

Sailors can’t tell bights from gone wrongs.


Your Highest
potential in truth and love,
is a
gift from God.

Know that God’s treasure

within you!

Pray and cast away Satan’s deceptions,
his blinding from your eyes,

the hurt that embitters your heart,
your dark thinking
and careless misdeeds.

Open up your heart and soul to the bird of Paradise,
the inner nesting
and birth of your enlightenment!

©️2020 TheBubblyTipsyMermaid (TIB) – All rights reserved

“The kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21)

Porthole (Part 3) The Challenge


Beheaded armories appeared out of nowhere, crews of them were rigidly lined up. Upon my first sight of them, I was quite fearful.


Then they stared at me and I at them. Our observances became exchanges of wild guesses. Annoyed, I turned away showing no fear. The only possible opinion they could form of me , would be that I had an air of aloofness. The assemblage continued in their collective stance of configurative prominence.

Then, right beside me, came a whisper “you called checkmate with your food–” Startled, I turned around, and there appeared an alabaster Knight who did not have a leg to stand on. He continued, “tell me your version of set”?

And I wondered why would any contention I may of had, concern him? I was a bit ravished, but I listened to the Knight as he continued, “A numerical set, is a better platform board, 2 sets plus 15 , double cube cups”.

Confused by his forwardness I interjected, “Is this your cause to be at sea”? He shrugged his stiff shoulders. and scurried away. But then, I became beset as a jaded Emperor came over in a blithe of suddenness and he too began talking. His manners were solemnly expressed as he introduced his traditional lineage as being from Mongolia.


A cascade of colorful gems trailed behind his excellence. “Jade! Jade”! He frowned, as he continued on a disparaging course. Then he blurted out admittedly, that all sets were not original. Seeing an apparatus in his hand, I realized that the scores were being kept on an abacus. But still, I gave no response at all to the Emperor’s need of cultural restitution. My facial expression should have been a clear statement of, “I have no interest in your challenges”

When the Emperor left, I again stared out through the porthole. Observing the winds, I was sure that neither the easterly nor the westerlies purported waters that were not troubled by ship wreckers. Neither did I believe that throne challenges endured under the sea. I began to feel a lucid aching from the recent persuasions, and I sighed.

That’s when the wizard appeared and gave me his version of contest.


He spoke of a spiritual platform. He threw down a pallet of coded ivory dice, and said “success is bosomed, bountiful, and accented in series of numbers”.

“Ivory” he declared “originated from every creaking jungle, and components were ideally coconut sculpted. He paused, sighed and said, “there are still a lot of unresolved problems”.

So why was the Emperor, and counselors coercing me? All were hollows chasing dimensions, borders, on marginal throws and contemplated brocaded guesses as bids. I looked at the wizard strangely knowing I did not want to be involved with none of their marathonic kingdoms. No, I did not! Then in a low tone of voice he, the wizard asked,”What is your name”? I whispered back…”Solitaire”!

I then quietly turned my view thru the porthole, onto the deck and the calming sea.

Immediately, the wizard understood that I did not want to play or be played, but wanted the full deck.


©2019 The BubblyTipsyMermaid (TIB) All rights Reserved

PORTHOLE (Part 2) Deck Hands


Suddenly, I noticed a strange platform of conflicting characters coming upon the deck. Their abrupt presence could only lead to a rush of unsound mental distractions.

But, here is where the joker went wild and dealt me a full-hand of suspicions– I had an instinct that this weird boarding was a maneuvering of props for mind control. Why? Because they all had a staggering gait that was stylishly commemorated as bidded gambles.

Ironically, they were just in time for early crumpets.

The Courtesy of Pinterest

The charmed passengers began to sit in sets, and oddly, they were served by a set of waiters, whose name tags read “Freddy Fish” for the first, and, “Floyd Fish” for the second. Things were looking a bit sketchy. I hated symbolic compositions anyhow, especially those that represented sea life and catered to the status of Royalty. I saw them as part of a game and a mockery of honesty.

The Courtesy of Pinterest

Not having been choiced with a menu, the cooks smilingly served me, on an all inclusive, the cost that violated a real meal ticket.


And, it was a horrible fish platter. I yelped, in refusal,”Remove” this grimacing portrait of immortality”!



Immediately, a chef scurried over to give me a choice of prime vegetables with roasted taters. He then motioned his apology. I thanked him. In contrary, I felt that my reception was unequal to the haughty status symbols. Why should they be served immediately and with notable cultural garnishings such as savoury stew, gravy, diced rolls and cobbler? I could tell by their style and rationings, these suspicious boarders were on a medieval spree.


The Courtesy of Pinterest

Monarchs? Queens over kings? These were positionings for reputable oppositions. Potential mayhem is what I thought. Ummm– strategy I assumed. But, what gains could there be on an ease at sea? This excursion may end up as a brutal overthrowing of powers.

Aristocracy annoyed me with its statures and distant chords. Always they had blockings that were contemplative manner

The eating was done, and, with dominion over her capella of crowns, the Lady of Cantebury cleaved to her gathered corsette. I was vexed but I never moved from spectating my hollow, impartial cruisemates, as I interchanged my view of the marine spectaculars thru the porthole.

The cruise boarders were strange carvings of life’s strifes, that were coordinated in colors, and others were beheaded extractions of expressions. Every one of them was grouped within a strategic arrangement of backhands, lefthands and underhandedness.

I would soon learn that kingdom challenges were fierce at initiating a ploy of relentless and most deceptive steps to attain prominence. Hegemony would be used as one of the gaining factors.

To be continued.

©2019 The BubblyTipsyMermaid (TIB) All rights Reserved

“Celestial Castings”

image source

I had an audition with the “Scouting Moon”, which took place on a quiet edge of morning,

The Moon was fully seated across shoreless waters within a rippling showcase of translucent colors, a skying recruit of powdery pinks, precipitating purples and spills of outrageous oranges.

The Courtesy of Pinterest

“What do you know about me and the stars and all of the planets?” asked the moon.

My answers were a continuous flow of endearments. “When the nocturnal divides into your nightcap mode, Dear Moon you slant over the mockingbird cusps but the repeats of the mystical bird’sPeaceful Hymn’ goes unanswered.”

“Unrested on vigilance, the old owl promises not-a-hooting trace to the stool pigeon about any wisdom versed within the perfect secrets of airwaves, nor the true characteristics of the winded seas, nor the real understanding about emotions of the mind that leaches onto the worldly ponderance of geniuses, lunatics, philosophers, stoics, and stooges”;

“Traditions walk following beamed up beliefs and take dips into horrific scifi, an eerie casting of moonings, orbiting and shifting as manmade sentinels transcend and modulate. The good news is that, the sky is one big, Heavenly screen…

Twinkling stars fall into ominous straits, ways, galaxies, constellations, where threads of comets in volumes, blast the runways of time”.

“And, just as I every drop of rain, every earthly element, every mineral, and every precious stone, I want to be “a real star“, said I, the Starfish“!

"The glow is a curated mystery!"

Originally posted on: TheBubblyTipsyMermaid (TIB)

©2019 TheBubblyTipsyMermaid – All Rights reserved