Disolve the ceiling above my head
With an outstretched arm
So that I can speak to the stars again
Not to say goodbye
Or to say goodnight
But to welcome them back into the darkest corners of my life
So that I can lay here and not feel flat
With my head tipped back to catch the slight
That way I could be in line with you
Underneath the distant stars tonight
Away amongst the dappled sky
You see me racing swiftly by
And harken to my engines cry
The heavens ever speeding nigh
For thrust will push me swiftly high
Tis skyward that I fly!
The jet stream takes me rapidly
The form aerodynamically
To the place I mean to be
A bullet shot from barrel, me!
So fast a blur is all you see…
To lofty places I ascend
The constellations to befriend
And through the space which has no end
I strike the fabric, make it bend
Before spacetime itself I rend…
I land in distant years behind
My eldest kin I hope to find
For in their strength they’ve become blind
A warning have I in my mind
“Beware, the future is not kind…”
And when my purpose here is done
They hear my mighty engines run
I launch once more toward the sun
My sonic blast, all hearing, stun
Like bullet shot from smoking gun!
Then back through rift I must return
Slowing by my retro burn
But soon a dreadful thing I learn
A comet speeding struck my stern
Stranded now, defeat I spurn!
For though my state is more then grave
Tis home my soul doth wholly crave
And so a plan I start to pave
A burnished sail my life will save
For I can ride a solar wave.
Now close to earth I soon will be
Approaching far too rapidly
For burning is my craft, yes she
The one who swiftly carried me
Crash! I plunge into the sea.
My ship is recked but I survive
Drifting eastward half alive
When to an island I arrive
And on said place, for life I strive.
Then after months of living there
Illness I take through lack of care
But then a ship, tall sailed and fair
Picks me up, off island bare
And gives me drought of spirit ere
Death claim me or age hoar my hair.
And when I am safe home at last
Infirmity from me I cast
Recalling engines mighty blast
My journey to the distant past
And galaxies rushing toward me fast!
I write it down, just how you read
And tell it true to all who heed
And now conclude, for I am freed
With brand new rocket, lightning speed
What a wondrous life I lead…
I AM SITTING IN MY CHAIR
IN MY RETIREMENT HOME
WONDERING WHY I ALWAYS
SHOULD BE ALONE
I CANT REMEMBER WHAT
I USE TO KNOW
NOT EVEN IF I THINK
AND GIVE IT A DAM GOOD GO
MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS
DON'T COME VISIT ANYMORE
WHY DO THEY THINK I
HAVE BECOME A CHORE
ALL I NEED IS SOMETHING
TO PASS THE TIME AWAY
WHILE I AM SITTING IN MY CHAIR
AND MY MIND MAY STRAY
THINKING OF A TIME
OF A YOUNGER MAN
WHO COULD ALWAYS DO
WHAT EVER HE CAN
BUT WHILE I AM SITTING
HERE IN MY CHAIR
I AM THINKING THAT THE
WORLD DOSE NOT CARE
BUT NOW SITTING IN MY CHAIR
I HAVE A FRIEND NAMED MARK
HE IS A BIT OF A CHARACTER
AND A BIT OF A LARK
HE COMES TO VISIT ME
AND WE HAVE A CHAT
WHILE SITTING IN MY CHAIR
WELL HOW ABOUT THAT
You were the breeze
The one that I once embraced
And imagined I can hold and keep
One night in that fine summer
Like a ghost you stayed for a while
I felt your kisses and hugs
I was in love the way we were
But that was one fine summer night
Another summer has come
And I can do nothing but to trace
Where I felt your hugs and kisses
And when the love started
I came back to this shore
To find whatever has left
But it only hurt me, just like before
Knowing that the breeze had passed
And won't come back anymore
From a distance behind glass doors
There he moves elegantly
Then disappears from my sight.
Suddenly at a time and a place
Quite in synch
He smiles at me
A shy smile like never before
Behind no glass door.
Then disappears from my sight
Multiples, multiply, infinitely, indefinitely---
Definitively developing the cosmos.
How lonely was that marbled world,
teetering on the weight of one star's gravity?
Looping, lunar, longevous, lengthening--
the essence of what year in a measure?
Short thought of one species on a land,
near a star, by far, far away---even further.
Furthest still, from the mass in the center.
Of a Matter Sink, sinking, swirling.
Away, away, away... What is time?
Dark age lands, dotted with castles, peasants, and pestilence.
The poets of times of old, revered as bards for their skill.
Instruments a rarity, the feeling to sing even rarer.
Poets and songsmiths sharing common muses.
The color of the endless sky, Trees stretching up and bunching in the forest.
The stories and fables were written in ancient edicts,
Tales and rumors of dragons and griffins,
Songs and sonnets dedicated to heroic knights.
Poets the mouthpiece of artistic expression.
Bards the hands of the instrument,
Allowing the item to sing its song.
And play its crystal clear hums,
Vibrating from its heavenly strings