Untitled Titanic Poem

I originally wrote this on April 15.  I posted it on another blog of mine, where I have been selecting a poem (or two) a day for National Poetry Month.

I wrote three, but only two are worth reading.  This second one is a bit longer, and is based more on the 1997 film.  It’s told from the point of view of a first or second class female passenger.

The night she sank
I was in my stateroom,
Writing in my journal.

When she struck the iceberg,
It slightly resembled an earthquake.
I felt like I was in San Francisco again.

The atmosphere was calm,
As if nothing untoward had happened.
And then, it was chaos.

People screaming,
Climbing into lifeboats,
And first-class ladies
Requesting their best coats from their maids.

The ship begins sinking at an angle
As my lifeboat is lowered.
People are crying out
To whatever God they believe in,
For help and mercy on their lives.
Women and children are forcibly ripped,
From husbands and fathers.

My lifeboat floats far from the fray.
And with frightened eyes, I watch
As the majestic Titanic
Sinks beneath the Atlantic.

The cries of those unfortunate souls
Bobbing and struggling in the icy water
Chills my body more than the cold air outside.
A few of us urge the crewman to save them,
But he refuses.

Eventually, the screams stop.
Hundreds of people dot the water,
Lifeless and cold.

Absolution comes in the form of the Carpathia.
No Titanic, but she is warm;
And I am grateful to be heading home.