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June 1, 2009

Poem: The City In The Sea

The author writes: I have thought much about  a seasteading concept in which the economy of the entire seastead is based on the manufacture of hydrogen, from windmills, wave and stream energy.  I picture it as  a modern day oil state, except it makes no oil, but it instead hydrogen and sell it to the big markets as fuel, for the benefit of the people who life there and take care of the installations. And as we all agree, it myst be in the sea.  It will be in the north sea, between Norway and Iceland, where the waves are big, the storms frequent and the streams are strong. And i want it to be a bustling city, that people visit for the design, the art and the nightlife. Just like Reykjavik on Iceland is today.

**The city in the sea**

_By Jens Tandstad_

And so it is reborn
the city in the sea
another sunburned father
throws his shackles to be free


A clean slate for a new life
was towed into alignment
the crankshafts dipping slowly
but with promise of abridgement

The newcomers, a family
would rent away their base
use only what they needed
to maintain a restful pace

The neighbours came with welcome gifts
and the children said hello and played
They greeted in the shimmer from
the brand new rotor blades

They helped connect the bearings
and then they greased up all the sleeves
the gridded up the newcomers
and heard the first sputter from the leaves

And so another family
arrived upon our shore
they shall not want of nuts and bolts
to build upon their floor

Who were those that came here first
what did they seek to find?
Their gardens, houses, shiny cars
they left it all behind

She was a mother stuck in life
He was one who forgot his wife
Birthdays came, they got it done
partyhat consumption won

The oilprice only soared again
And yet another year in vain
The cost of heat and energy
a shackle, ball and chain

Theres nothing wrong with working hard
but still for some it means
less time for your children
and less time for your dreams

No, our life is not for everyone
most people do not want to run
for some there´s life within a box
for some this box is chained wih locks

But let us all remember now
how it all began
before the art of seasteading
before even the plan

A dream it was for centuries
to conquer the high seas
to live aloof at liberty
without laws and decrees

But then fate itself would throw the dice
a man discovered heat and ice
in the compression and release
of cold atlantic breeze

A privy base was what he built
the first, our city hall to be
he named it Leviathan
and released it to the sea

Trailed by ice and shrugged by waves
It lay there, breathing, in the sun
with the humming windflow and whittle of steam
its breath was hydrogen and dreams

And suddenly, a flock of men
concerned with wealth and size
commissioned a great enterprise
to replenish dwindling gas-supplies

And our founder soon, was left behind
by shortsighted business minds
But he remained, in secrecy
maintaining plans for liberty

Whilst tanker ships arrived each day
Fate itself jumped ship to stay
Custodian to citizen!
Employee to free!

Revolution in the steamworks!
Independence, liberty!
Suddenly the shore was no more
assets of a company!

Listen! Hear our island sing
this is how we quench the thirst
the whistle of steam and and the crackle of ice
and in the midst our children plays

We make steam from ice cold water
And fresh water from the breeze
We take water, make it burn
How the rules are twist- and turned

The pistons, rattled by the waves
the windmills, turning in the wind
the ice we´re leaving in our wake
the steam we make for our own sake

And we shall keep an open shore
to those that want our gift
the ticket is a privy base
enthusiasm and thrift

And we shall open up our homes
to all that come to see
they will remain at liberty
with us here in the sea

For we shall build a city
for those who dare be free
from multitude, with courage
to liberty are we

Yes, we shall build a city
unlike anything on earth
and twenty thousand artists
shall supply us with rebirth