Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Migrating poems from Myspace

DateCreated12/1/2007 4:37:00 AM
PostedDate11/30/2007 4:32:00 PM
We packed our bags to go to Mars.
We packed them tight and neat.
We caught the ship from Liverpool.
It was a special treat.
We had been good throughout the year,
as good as gold you see.
We'd potted all the garden plants,
and kept the stairwells free.
The Captain greeted us with pride
outside his gleaming ship.
Presenting us his trusty crew
who'd help us on this trip.
We'd watched the films,  we' d read the scripts,
we'd talked of it at school.
But nothing could prepare us for
that ship from Liverpool.
The doors would open with a swish
and close with just a sigh.
And whereso on the ship you went
the crew would be nearby.
The crew were gruff and hardy men.
We should have found it barmy,
why on a ship that steered itself,
you needed a small army.
We should have been suspicious of
the weapons that they carried.
But on these inconsistencies
our thoughts they never tarried.
So as the ship set off that night
and we slept in our room.
we had no expectation of
our close impending doom.
They came and got us one by one
and marched us to the hold.
They chained our feet in manacles.
The metal felt so cold.
And that was how we got to Mars,
chained up within a hive.
Not knowing what fate had in store
or if we would survive.
Oh curse the day we got to Mars,
so far away from home.
Across the gulfs and voids of space,
to destinies unknown.
I find myself within a storm that's raging.
The rain is pounding down upon my soul.
The wind a gruesome war is waging
and on this coil begins to take its toll.
To show that to despair I am not ready,
I climb a hill amidst the howling storm
and there I see a rainbow strong and steady,
its power does to peace my heart transform.
This rainbow has a very different being,
it is not crafted from the sun's own warmth.
It takes a while to ken what I am seeing,
that from the moon its essence is bought forth.
I wonder how the moon can thus configure.
Perhaps this is not everything it seems,
for on the rainbow now I see a figure
a dancing and a twirling through the beams.
As it draws near I hear my heart beat pounding.
I feel the music through the dampenned soil.
It starts off faint but then becomes resounding,
as if the very ground's about to boil.
And suddenly she's standing there before me
bedecked in all the colours of that bow.
She smiles and takes my hand quite softly
and dancing through the storm we start to go.
We tango through the forest,
do a jig upon the dale.
We breakdance in the bracken
and we shimmy in the vale.
We jive under the starlight,
and through the streams we bop
and though the storm still rages,
the dance we do not stop.
But now the moon lies still on the horizon.
The rainbow though still grand is growing dim.
I now that on the time she has her eyes on
and soon she must go back to join her kin.
She takes my hand and squeezes it quite gently.
I try to thank but words are not enough
and though her exit's looming imminently
we smile for things are no longer as rough.
And all around me now there is a calmness.
An eye amidst the everlasting storm.
This eye will give me strength that I will harness
so that my dreams of peace will start to form.


A happy carefree youth.
He is liked for who he is,
and can hold his head up high
He feels a certain dignity,
just like anyone should.
They treat him with respect.
It is different in the whorehouse.
They do not see a man.
just someone to be pitied.
He is made to feel ashamed,
No one meets his eyes,
Its as if he isnt there.
Heading for the street,
he gets into his wheelchair.
The truth is read backwards.
The truth is read backwards.
He gets into his wheelchair,
heading for the street,
its as if he isnt there.
No one meets his eyes.
He is made to feel ashamed,
just someone to be pitied.
They do not see a man.
It is different in the whorehouse.
They treat him with respect,
just like anyone should.
He feels a certain dignity,
and can hold his head up high.
He is liked for who he is,
A happy carefree youth.
MARS PART 2 will appear here

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