Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Mon Dec 02, 2013 5:33 am

Ok, this is my first time posting in this forum. I have a poem I'm writing for my almost-3-year-old son. It's loooong. So I'm going to post it piece by piece. Here's how it starts:

Hello, and let me introduce myself,
I'm two years old, and small as an elf.
I'm a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.

I have two parents--a mom and dad,
Sometimes they scold me for being bad,
They tell me "go to sleep!"
And not to make a single peep.

But I can't help it, I swear,
For I feel like playing with my teddy bear,
Rather than going to sleep,
And falling into a dream so deep.

For me and teddy will go on adventures,
And take bold risks and great ventures,
If only we could break free,
Of this crib and its bars surrounding me.

Why, if we could, we'd try, teddy and I,
To climb aboard that rocket in the sky--
The one on my mobile hanging above me
With planets, stars, and comets floating free.

We'd climb aboard, I say,
And we'd fly far far away,
Out of this crib and to the stars,
No longer caught between these bars.

The first place we'd go, in our rocket ship,
On this adventurous space-bound trip,
Is to the Moon, that bright round ball,
That I see outside the window on my wall.

We'd land and right away,
Right on the very first day,
Meet an alien, some weird moon-creature,
Someone who was strange to look at for sure,

For he would have the head of a dog,
And the arms and legs of a frog,
And around his belly and on his back,
Would be stripes yellow and black,

For not only a dog and frog would he be,
But a bumble-bee, plain to see.
Strange indeed would this alien appear,
This Moonian, this creature so near.

I'd introduce us I would, teddy and me,
To this half-dog, half-frog, some other part bee,
And I'd kick things off right,
And try at all costs to avoid a fight:

"Hello, and let me introduce myself,
I'm two years old, and small as an elf.
I'm a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.

This here is my companion and good friend Teddy,
For a long time has our friendship been steady.
We are traveling through the stars--that's right--
For how could we not on such a beautiful, clear night?

And what may your name be, Mister Alien?
Or would that be "Sir"? But then again,
I think you might go by "Moonian," no?
You are a Moonian, isn't that so?"

"In fact, young Earthling, I am not.
I'm actually stuck--kinda caught.
I only crash landed here, you see.
I'm really a Martian--yesseree.

I'm from Mars; I'm your neighbor next door,
I was exploring the planets and so much more,
Until my stupid ship crash landed here,
Because I suddenly forgot how to steer!

Luckily, I found a few helpful locals,
Who were kind enough to answer my calls,
My calls of distress and frustration,
And so they came to assess my situation.

There were three of them to be exact,
And, oh, how quickly they began to act.
I'd say "Scientist," "Philosopher," and "Engineer"--
That is, if I were to name them by career.

The scientist, Hubert, studies quantum mechanics,
And listens very closely to those annoying tics,
The ones my ship has mysteriously been making,
Ever since the crash from which I'm still shaking.

The engineer, Sally, has begun,
Eagerly and seemingly having fun,
To fix the plumbing on my ship--
First order of business on a space trip!

And the philosopher, Immanuel, has been thinking,
Thinking long and hard, sometimes blinking.
Trying to figure out the justification for why
I crashed rather than soared through the astral sky.

Come, let me introduce you.
Maybe you can join the crew.
I'm sure that you and Teddy,
Have something to offer at the ready."

"Why, that would be splendid," I'd say,
"I'm so glad that in my bed I didn't stay,
For this is already way more exciting,
Than I expected, and, oh, how inviting."

Teddy and I would follow Sir Martian,
Back to his friends at the station.
It wouldn't take long--no, not at all,
For the Moon is a tiny, eensy-weensy ball.

We would get there speedy quick, and I would see,
Hubert, Immanuel, and skinny little Sally.
They would be hard at work indeed,
Taking care of Sir Martian's central need.

I'd see Hubert knocking on the ship, on the door,
And then listening for something, maybe a roar.
He was studying something for sure, testing.
A lot of concentration he seemed to be investing.

Sally would be there too, getting a shock--
After fixing the wires in the cockpit clock.
She'd like it though, it'd be a buzz,
She'd smile, and do it again just because.

Immanuel would be busy too--he'd be walking--
But that's not all--he'd also be talking--
Talking to himself, of course, speaking out loud,
As though, in his mind, he were preaching to a crowd.

"My good friend Hubert," Sir Martian would say,
"How goes the work on this bright sunny day?
Have you figured anything out about my sorry ship?
Could it be the quantum flux booster rocket has a rip?"

"Highly doubtful, Sir Marsion," would say Hubert,
"But I did find, in the ventilation, this shirt.
You must have lost it some time ago,
How or why, well, I don't profess to know.

What I do know is what's causing those annoying tics,
Those one's we've been hearing since quarter to six.
You must have dropped your watch in the toilet,
Accidently, of course, and I think you've spoiled it."

"After I pulled apart the plumming," Sally would interject,
"Ripped it up, I did, to see what was wrecked.
Pulled the tube out of the poddy,
And out poured your watch, looking shoddy."

"Do you know what this means?!" Immanuel would intrude,
"How depressing, how bismal, how utterly crude.
For now, not only is his ship a wreck,
But his shirt and watch too--we're up to our neck,

In troubles, that is, in dilemmas and puzzles,
For I can't figure out how one guzzles,
Three and a quarter gallons of salt water,
Without pestering a contemptuous otter.

But that's a different problem, a digression,
What's important now is to answer the question,
Of why this terrible event did happen.
We know it wasn't because Sir Martian was nappin'.

The only conclusion I can come to about this curse,
Is that we live in a deterministic universe,
Which can only mean it was written in the stars,
That on this day you would crash, traveler from Mars."

"Now wait a minute," Hurbert would stand up,
"If determinism were tea, I'd throw away the cup,
For as an expert in quantum theory,
Talk of determinism makes me weary.

For it is false--and that means not true--
That everything we see and everything we do,
Has been written in the stars since time began.
Can things happen randomly? Yes they can!"

So Hubert and Immanuel would shout and dispute,
That what the other was saying does not compute,
But before things would get out of hand,
I'd propose something we'd all understand:

"Excuse me, for I don't mean to interrupt,
But if it's a ship you need that isn't corrupt,
I, and my companion Teddy here, have one.
It's ready to go and it's a whole lotta fun."

So I would invite everyone aboard,
And immediately we would all strike a cord,
A cord of friendship, that is, of team spirit,
Before we got to our ship or even near it.

It would be a wee bit crammed at first,
It might even seem my ship would burst.
But it wouldn't take long to get comfortable,
And off we'd fly without any trouble.

Next on our agenda: Mars of course,
For we'd have to return Sir Marsian to his source,
His home, that is, in order to call AMA,
And report the accident in all its disarray.
Last edited by gib on Tue Dec 03, 2013 3:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby Helandhighwater » Mon Dec 02, 2013 12:05 pm

The new world.
"smoke me a kipper Skipper I'll be back for Breakfast."

Arnold Judas RImmer V2.0. AKA Ace.

Helandhighwater wrote:Feel free to tell me what happened today to your sphincter, and at length, I am very interested in your ass. Pun intended. :evil:

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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby Gamer » Tue Dec 03, 2013 12:14 am

that's awesome Helan

It starts out a bit simple, fit for a three year old, and unexpectedly veers into very charming, smart and inventive territory. Nicely done, several rhymes had genuine entertainment value to an old salt like me. And gabriel, he's lucky to have you, enjoy
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby Helandhighwater » Tue Dec 03, 2013 1:28 am

Gamer wrote:that's awesome Helan

It starts out a bit simple, fit for a three year old, and unexpectedly veers into very charming, smart and inventive territory. Nicely done, several rhymes had genuine entertainment value to an old salt like me. And gabriel, he's lucky to have you, enjoy

Quite. :)
"smoke me a kipper Skipper I'll be back for Breakfast."

Arnold Judas RImmer V2.0. AKA Ace.

Helandhighwater wrote:Feel free to tell me what happened today to your sphincter, and at length, I am very interested in your ass. Pun intended. :evil:

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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Tue Dec 03, 2013 3:06 am

Gamer wrote:that's awesome Helan

It starts out a bit simple, fit for a three year old, and unexpectedly veers into very charming, smart and inventive territory. Nicely done, several rhymes had genuine entertainment value to an old salt like me. And gabriel, he's lucky to have you, enjoy

Thanks Gamer, but Gabriel isn't my son. He's a character based on my son. By the time I'm done this, my son will probably be 4 years old.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby Gamer » Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:18 pm

One time I sat down with a three year old to finish a cupcake and when I was done he was a 6-foot actuary named Mr. Peterson.

I got your name wrong, too. Apparently it's gib. Nice to meet you gib
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby Helandhighwater » Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:21 pm

Gamer wrote:One time I sat down with a three year old to finish a cupcake and when I was done he was a 6-foot actuary named Mr. Peterson.

I got your name wrong, too. Apparently it's gib. Nice to meet you gib

"smoke me a kipper Skipper I'll be back for Breakfast."

Arnold Judas RImmer V2.0. AKA Ace.

Helandhighwater wrote:Feel free to tell me what happened today to your sphincter, and at length, I am very interested in your ass. Pun intended. :evil:

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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Tue Dec 03, 2013 4:20 pm

Gamer wrote:I got your name wrong, too. Apparently it's gib. Nice to meet you gib

I don't think you got my name at all. Nice to meet you too.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
resident exorcist
Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
Location: in your mom

Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Thu Dec 26, 2013 6:36 am

Next installment:

It would take a while to get to Mars,
Much longer than to the Moon amongst the stars,
For Mars is 150 times the distance in space,
And we'd have to go faster as if in a race.

Unfortunately, we couldn't land just anywhere,
For my ship couldn't land on the rocks down there.
I forgot to tell you what my ship doesn't feature;
It doesn't have landing pads, the cheap creature.

So, of course, we'd head for the North Pole,
That white spot that sticks out like a mole,
The ice cap on the top of Mars,
That reflects light brighter than the stars.

At least that way, we'd slip and slide,
As opposed to a roller-coaster ride,
That goes off the tracks and crashes,
And burns into flames and ashes.

And, well, whose assistance would we seek,
At this Martian icicle: the Pole, the Peek.
We'd seek out the Ice Queen! Her royal highness,
In the hopes of inciting her genuine kindness.

You see, she'd have a palace, the Ice Queen,
It would glisten in ice, sparkly and clean,
Inside, on her throne where it'd be most cool,
The Ice Queen sat and over Mars would rule.

"Your Highness," I'd say on behalf of everyone,
"I come from that planet a bit closer to the Sun,
The one they call Earth, and I come bearing my crew,
One of which lives here on Mars like you.

But first, allow me introduce myself,
I'm two years old, and small as an elf.
I'm a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.

This here is Teddy, my companion and friend,
And that's Sally, my engineer to the end.
And this is Hubert and here's Immanuel,
My scientist and philosopher who serve me well.

And finally, this here is our companion,
The one we all call Sr. Martian.
He lives here, as I said, with you,
And we're bringing him home to where he grew."

"Like, oh my God," would say the Queen of Ice,
"You guys are, like, totally nice.
And awesome and, like, really cool,
And, aaaw, your Teddy's so cute! You rule!"

"So, like, do you need anything? What can I give you?
Gold? Silver? A hug for each member of your crew?
Oh, I'd love to give you a hug, Gaby;
You're, like, a totally cute little baby!"

"I'm a toddler, thank you very much,"
I'd say, trying to look mature and such,
"And like I said, we're dropping off our friend,
Sir Martian, for to him our helping hand we lend."

"Now, hold up," Sir Martian would say,
"I never said I wanted to come home to stay.
As I understood it, I'm here to call AMA,
And after that, to continue my travels far and away."

"Oh, that's no problem," would say the Queen,
"I totally love to help, I'm so not mean.
You can use the royal phone, hanging there on the wall,
Dial 9, then 1, then X, numlock's optional, then make your call.

And if you're all, like, going for a ride,
Can I go with you? I mean, I have to confide
That I, well, that is, I'm really bored.
There's things to do, yeah, but they can be ignored.

I'm sure Mars can deal with itself,
At least for a short while, self-proclaimed elf,
For, really, the most pressing issue of late,
Has been what color nail polish I love or, like, hate.

I work totally hard as my subjects, I'm sure, have seen.
So I think I deserve a break; I am, after all, the Queen!
So is that OK? I mean, I hope I don't seem like a creep.
It's just, I'm so bored, I often just fall asleep!"

At that, Immanuel would step up and nobly say:
"Your highness, your excellency most beautiful and sweet,
It would be our pleasure--and our honor--
To bring you aboard before we're a goner."

Meanwhile, Sir Martian would be trying to figure out,
The phone: "Did she say 'optional'?--that I doubt.
She definitely said numlock was required,
So I'll keep pushing it 'til I get tired."

So Sir Martian would push numlock 50 times,
And for good measure, would insert a few dimes,
And when he'd get tired, and his fingers hurt,
He'd call his mom and dad, and would assert:

"Mom? Dad? Uh, well, I have something to say.
You see, uh, it's like--it's been a bad day.
And, well, you know the ship you let me borrow?
It's, uh, well, it's--this will fill you with sorrow.

It was an accident, ok? It's wrecked, it's bashed.
I totaled it. I'm sorry, but I crashed.
I need you to call AMA and sort this out.
I swear I'll make it up, without a doubt."

So while Sir Martian would undergo,
This ordeal with his parents, disappointed so,
The Ice Queen would become inaugurated,
Into the crew and to the stars, with us, be fated.

When Sir Martian would be done,
His parents taking care of their son,
He'd catch up with the rest of us,
And board the ship, now more like a bus.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Thu Jan 30, 2014 5:47 am

Part Trois

We'd start to lose room aboard the ship,
But I'd shove and push with my hip,
And make myself comfortable and cozy,
So that the rest of the trip would be rosy.

Where would we go now?
We'd have to plan our trip somehow.
I would have been to the Moon,
And we'd all have been to Mars since noon.

Well, Jupiter, of course, would be the next logical place.
It's definitely way out there in space.
So why not? We'd set our course for the great red giant.
Would everyone agree? Of course, they'd be compliant.

"But should I bring it to your attention,"
Would interupt Hubert, in his voice an inflexion,
"That after consulting the Weather Network,
It seems a storm, a hurricane, on Jupiter does lurk.

According to Tom, the weather man,
It blows wind stronger than any fan,
It's even colored red like a great swirling fire,
And it's as big as Earth times three, maybe higher."

"Oh, oh, oh!" would perk up Sally with glee,
"Is there any lightening, can you see,
Can you, Hubert? On the screen? Out the window?
Oh, electricity excites me so, as you know."

"Yes, my dear," Hubert would answer,
"Where there's a storm, you can be sure,
There'll also be lightening galore,
So much, it'll throw you to the floor."

"Woaw, you, like, totally love electricity,"
Would comment Icy, the Queen from the Martian city,
"So do I. It totally powers my equipment sure enough,
My hair blower, my crimper, and all this other stuff.

Some I have to, like, plug in," she'd go on,
"Some need batteries that must last long.
In fact, I have a rad trimmer right here in my pocket,
And, like, Oh my God! There's batteries in the socket!

Here, why don't I, like, give them to you,
After all, it is the least I can do,
If it means befriending you and then some,
For your kind and bodaciously warm welcome."

And with that, Icy would remove the batteries,
As Sally would light up from all the flatteries.
She'd take them and apply them to her tongue.
She'd howl and yelp with every breath in her lung.

"Well, if electricity Sally likes so,
Then let's aim for the red spot and go,"
I'd say, "Headlong into the storm,
Whether cold, hot, or luke warm."

And so into the eye of the storm we'd head,
And though we'd be scared, we wouldn't end up dead,
Not with me and my piloting skills at the helm,
Though my ship the gale winds would certainly overwhelm.

Into the red thick we'd disappear,
The howling winds would deafen the ear,
And as sure as we'd expect, and to Sally's delight,
Lightening flashes would give us an awful fright.

But a little too soon, or a little too late,
I would somehow slip up and sealed our fate.
It would happen too fast for me to react,
But out the window I'd see the wing cracked,

Under the pressure of 1.21 gigawatts,
Traveling at the speed of a billion kilonots,
A bolt of lightning would have struck our ship,
And through the wing tore a great rip.

It would send us spinning, swirling, out of control,
And send us flying down an abysmal hole,
Through the great fog, that is, through the mire,
Through the hydrogen cloud that covers Jupiter entire.

And where would we land, you wonder?
Into a dirty old shack we'd crash like thunder,
Like a rusty old barn abandoned and forgotten,
Grey and crooked, with wooden boards rotten.

We'd crash right through the wall,
Into what would look like a bathroom stall,
With sewer lines broke and water erupting,
The spectacular mess would sure be something.

We'd step out of the ship, Sir Martian shaking,
And immediately we'd smell something baking,
It would be like turkey, bacon, or something dicy,
No, more like chicken wings, hot and spicy.

Indeed, in would come walking a greyhound,
Carrying a tray of eaten wings, about a pound.
He would look at us with those puppy dog eyes,
And on his face, a look of utter surprise.

He'd say: "Woof! What have you done?
Who awe you to wuin ouwe fun?
We were pwaying cawds and eating dese,
Chicken wings, wat is, wiv cwackews and cheese.

But now we have a meff to cwean,
De biggeft meff I evew seen."
He'd be right, I would have to admit.
I wouldn't want to just stay there and sit.

I'd want to help him, of course.
I'd owe it to him to work like a horse,
For it would be the least I could do,
After bursting through his wall with my crew.

So I'd say "I'm terribly sorry, Spot,
Or is it Sparky, or Rex--well, maybe not.
Whatever your name is, I and my crew apologize,
For creating a hole in your wall of enormous size.

Now, please allow me to introduce myself,
I'm two years old, and small as an elf.
I'm a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.

And this is my crew whose names I will assert:
These are Sally, Immanuel, and Hubert,
And these are Teddy and Sir Martian, and that,
Max, is Icy, Queen of Mars--isn't that phat?!"

"I'd say she wooks waver fin, and my name's not Max!
It's Bustew--nevew guess names, stick to facts!
And if you'w so sowwy, why don't wou hewp,
To cwean dis up," he'd bark at me and yelp.

"But of course, Buster, and sorry about the name.
I have a real problem," I'd say to ease the pain,
"Of guessing people's names"--and Sir Martian would say:
"In fact, he guessed my name 3 times just the other day!"

And with that, Buster lead us into the game room,
Where, to our stupifaction, we found what, I assume,
Were four other dogs playing poker,
I would not believe it: "Okay, whose the joker?"

I'd below out, "Whose brilliant stunt is this?
Do you really expect us to think nothing's amiss?
I mean, what dog really plays poker, really?
This is obviously a facad, it's just silly."

"You, my fwiend," would retort Spot, the great dane,
"Awe a doggyist--denying it would be in vein.
You assume ouw names awe de typicaw doggy names!
You give in to steweotypes and to sinistew games."

"He's wight, wou know," Rex would add,
"To fink we can't pway pokew is just sad,
We'w human too, you know, we'w intewigent,
Pwus de advantage of a nose wif awsome sent."

"Yup," would pipe up the twins, Puddles and Sparky.
The Poodles who, whether sense or malarkey,
Would respond together, at the same time,
Brother and sister were they, like rhymth and rhyme.

"Mawe," would say Sparky, "Or femawe," Puddles would say,
And then together: "We have wights dat awe hewe to stay,
Wheder spotted or pwane<sp?>, stwiped or pwad,
We take pwide in doghood, and it makes us gwad."

And at that, all would howl and yipe,
For with doggihood they would have no gripe.
They'd be proud and exuberant, they would,
And of this, we'd make sure we understood.

"Wew, come on, I'w show you de bwoom,"
Buster would say, leaving the room.
He'd come back with brooms and hand them out,
From Rona or Home and Garden, no doubt.

"Now, as I was saying," Rex continued,
From the conversation into which we did intrude,
"Dis pwobwem has been wiv us fow a whiwe,
And evew since it stawted, I haven't seen a smiwe,

Fwom any one of you, now fwom mysewf,
De probwem, dat is, dewe on de shewf."
"You mean," would yelp Sparky, "aww dat noffing?
De empy spafe, de void, de abfenfe of someffing?"

"Yes, Spawky, de wack of snacks on ouw shewf,
De wack of chips, cheesees, cookies fwom the Keebwe ewf,
De noffingness--except de empty bags,
Stwewn about amongst diwty wags."

"Wex is wight, dis is a cwisis," would say Spot,
"An de wowst is--an dis shouwd not be fowgot--
None of us awe vowonteewing,
Not even fow dis bootifuw eawwing,

Which I wiw offew anyone who goes,
And gets some mowe chips made fwom potatoes,
As wong as it's not me,
Fow I'm in de middwe of a game, you see."

"But we'we aww in da middwe of a game,
Evwyone's pwedicament is da same!"
"Exactwe, Pddwes, dat's what I'm saying,
But at weast, wiv dis eawwing, I'm paying."

And at each other, all would bark and hollar,
For only by being dragged by the collar,
Would any one leave the game to go,
To buy chips, crackers, and sugar covered dow.

"Now, wait a minute, guys! Heel!"
I'd say and abruptly did their clamor keel,
And all puppy dog eyes looked my way.
Having their attention, I'd continue to say:

"If you need someone to go to the store for you,
Why don't I go--er, that is, I and my crew.
There'd be no need for you to get up at all,
As soon as we get unstuck from that wall."

"But you awe stuck," would remind old Buster,
"And de fwoow stiww doesn't have its shiny wuster,
So keep cweaning, and weeve de doggy buisness to--
Unwess..." Buster would pause and turn to his doggy crew.

"Say... what if we wet de kid dwive ouw ship,
We could wet him take it for a spafe twip,
To go get snacks, of couwse, not just fow kicks.
If you did dis fow us, kid, I'w give you wicks."

"What?! Awe you out of youw mind, Bustew?!?!"
Would protest Puddles, speaking for the doggy cluster,
"Twust dis kid wiv ouw ship? Absowutewy Nevew!
Not now, not evew - not even aftew fowever!"

"Weww," would suggest Sparky, "One of us could twavew awong,
Someone to dwive ouw ship made compwetewy of tefwon.
Why did we get a ship made of tefwon?
As a matewiaw, its weawy not dat stwong."

"I pwopose," would say Puddles, "Dat be you,
You came up wiv de idea, isn't it twue?"
"I did, but I'm in no position to go.
Fow to weave dis game would bwing me woe."

"Same hewe," would pipe up Rex,
And Spot'd add, "It'd bwing me vex."
"Weww, I'm not going." Buster would assert.
And they'd bark and howl so much, it would hurt!

"Okay, okay, okay, woaw, woaw, woaw!"
I'd calm things down and make them slow,
"Here's a brilliant idea--if I may--
You have a ship, or so you say.

Why don't we all go?
Buster, Puddles, the whole show?
Plus me and my crew, unless of course,
Your ship is smaller than a horse."

"Say..." would say Buster, "Da kids pwetty smawt,
Ethhhpeciawwy considewing he's 2, the widdow fawt.
And it's not a bad idea, in fact it's smawt.
Not wike de ting I push outa my butt--a fawt."

"Well," I'd contort, "My idea's worth more than fart,
But you are right about one thing--I am smart.
And I'm serious too--we should all pack together,
And fly in your ship, through sun or stormy weather."

"Da kid's wight," would say Spot,
"Wet's stwike de iwon when its hot,
And take the oppowtunity to eawnestwy decide,
Dat by dis pwan, we won't have to divide."

"But we muft stiww divide," would interrupt Rex,
"Fow whose gonna dwive? Puddles of de opposite sex?"
"Now, Wex, we poddwe giwls can dwive just as weww,
As you mawe dogs--don't make me waise heww!

But, be dat as it may, I'm not dwiving."
Spot would concur: "To dwive, I'm not stwiving."
"Neider am I," would insist Sparky,
"Not me," Buster would say snarkly.

And of course, the barking and yelping would begin,
But again, I would arbiter, and bring back a grin,
On Buster's, Spot's, Rex's, Sparky's and Puddle's face.
And sooner than later, we'd be back up in space.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Mon Mar 03, 2014 5:15 am

I would be at the helm, quite naturally of course,
For this solution was simple; it would be the source,
of how we could all go to get snacks as one,
While all doggies play poker and have fun.

In fact, we would bring the whole table,
Plus chairs, cards, and whatever we'd be able,
To fit on this spacious and roomy ship,
For there'd be several rooms besides the cockpit.

The dogs would be in the back room playing,
And in the bathroom, we'd hear something spraying,
It was only Icy, spraying her hair with gel,
The pantry was the next room, the next cell.

And that room, the pantry, would be our goal,
It'd be the room that, right then, would be a hole.
And our mission was to fill it with snacks,
Goodies that would help the dogs relax.

But where in the vastness of interstellar space,
Would we find snacks with which to stuff our face?
To search aimlessly would seem our only choice,
Until over the intercom came a doggy voice:

"In case you didn't know, Satuwn is de pwace,
Whewe you can buy cheesies by de case."
So we'd fly off this big red ball,
And be at Saturn in no time at all.

But unbeknownst to us and as a surprise,
This attempt to reach Saturn would be our demise,
For about half way there, we'd crash on Mars--
That's right, Mars, way out amongst the outer stars.

As it would happen, Sir Martian's mom and dad,
Would feel, towards their son, so incredibly bad,
And while they would be dealing with AMA,
They just had to visit their son. Mom would say:

"We were worried about our little Marshy-Warshy--
And don't take this to sound too harshy--
You might get into trouble so far from home,
And so we brought you lunch, cash, and this comb."

Marshy would ask: "You drove Mars way out here?
Way past Jupiter? That's quite queer."
"It's the least I, daddy, could do for my boy.
Plus there seems to be some kind of ploy.

For the Queen has gone missing, it appears.
Notification of her absence reached no one's ears,
And, well, since there was no one to authorize it,
We made an executive decision to take Mars out for a bit."

"Did I forget to put in a notice?" Icy piped up.
Mr. Martian, alarmed, dropped his coffee cup.
"Silly me," she continued, "I, like, totally forgot.
But now I'm assigning you--please forget NOT;

Don't forget, that is, to, like, send out a broadcast,
To all of Mars--and, oh yes, when they go past,
Maybe to Phobeus and Deimos too,
So that no one will, like, construe,

My absence for a ploy, like what you just said.
No, I'm not kidnapped, I'm totally not asleep in bed,
I'm just, like, conducting some important politics,
Some foreign affairs, that is--I'll return on, uuuh, June 6."

"Well, uh, er, yes, your majesty," would say dad,
"To relay your message would make us glad."
"As soon as we're done with our son, your highness,"
Would add mom, "granting your permission, your kindness."

"Now hold on, wait up!" I'd interject,
"Do I understand this? Is this correct?
That you, Mr. and Mrs. Martian,
Took Mars out for a leisurely spin?"

"Not only that," dad would say, "but your ship,
Marshy-Warshy, did we repair--not a scratch or rip.
We had it toed from the Moon,
At about a quarter to noon."

"We then fixed it up, free of charge," mom added,
"Martian AMA has all the perks, they even made it padded."
"It's ready to go son," continued dad, "if you want it.
Here's the keys--crash it again, and you're in deep @$*%."

"Well," Marshy-Warshy responded in utter surprise,
"Our ship is a bit crowded, despite its size,
So ummm... yeah, I'll take the keys,
Driving my own ship would put me at ease."

"What?!?!" I'd protest, "We're not sticking together?
Like the coat of a bird, feather to feather?"
"Hey, I didn't say we'd go our separate ways,"
Would say Sir Martian, lowering my eyebrows raised.

"Why don't you follow me? Or I could follow you.
Your call, captain--I'm still a loyal member of your crew."
"Well," I'd say, "I guess elbow room is a virtue,
And like sardines, I don't want to sit and stew.

Okay, we'll fly in tandem, a two-ship crew,
But I'm still taking the lead, it's true."
"Fine with me," Sir Martian would happily conciliate,
"And a few members into my crew, I'll need to consummate.

For I'd prefer not to go it alone,
For it would leave me cold as a stone."
"I'll go with you!" Sally would volunteer,
"So will I," would 2nd Hubert, "I'll steer.

For I'm experienced in many-a-piloting lesson,
And I'm sure your father would agree that his son,
Should allow someone who doesn't typically crash,
To drive your ship in a manner not so rash."

"Then it's settled," I'd conclude,
"The manner in which we've been 'crewed,'
That is, how we're to be partitioned,
Split up, divided, as it were, fissioned.

You, Hubert, will drive Sir Martian and Sally,
Close behind me and my awesome posse.
We'll head East towards the source,
Of our destination--that's Saturn, of course."

"East, did you say?" Mrs. Martian would point out,
"I'm sorry, but it's West--you need to do a round-about.
Saturn, at <i>this</i> time of year,
Is two light hours away from here.

It's not next door to Jupiter--
That's a fact that's for sure--
For Saturn is on the opposite side of the Sun,
From where we are now--sorry to ruin your fun."

"But you'll have to travel quite a ways,"
Dad'd continue, "Maybe even for several days.
You'll have to travel past the Earth,
Past the Moon and, for what it's worth,

Past Venus and Mercury, and around the Sun,
Then straight 'til morning, young padawan,
And then you'll reach Saturn--
You need only follow that pattern."

"That's mighty helpful, Mr. and Mrs. Martian,"
I'd say with all due courtesy and passion,
"And if there's nothing more to address,
We should begin this unexpected regress."

But Hubert, Sally and Sir Martian would already be aboard,
And this news about East and West would have been ignored;
They wouldn't have caught that Saturn was West,
And would set their course East--really not best.

"Now let's see," would say Sir Martian, "what ma packed,
Hmm, a sandwich--peanut butter and jelly--it's a fact!
And look at this--cheesy fish crackers--my fav!
And hey! An apple! This one I definitely won't save."

"I'll eat it right away, apples are so yummy,
Why, to eat peanut butter or cheesy fish is funny,
If it came first, before something sweet,
Like something fruity, for the sake of Pete."

So Sir Martian would bite into the apple,
the first of mom's foods to sample.
Just as on the dashboard, he'd put his feet up,
He'd noticed something so foul and corrupt.

For in the apple, under the first bite,
Would be a nematode--a worm--a horrible sight,
"Yeeeuuwghch," would yelp the green man from Mars,
The grossness, leaving in his mind, many scars.

He'd toss it out the window, onto my ship,
That's right--about a twenty yard trajectory trip.
It would get lodged somewhere on the wing:
On the part of Sir Martian, it'd be a magnificent fling.

Then we'd both take off--in opposite directions--
Neither of us realizing our opposite projections:
Sir Martian, Sally, and Hubert at the helm going East,
While we'd go West--to Saturn that great ringed beast.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Jun 22, 2014 2:48 am

We'd both just assume that the other,
Wasn't far behind, like a Siamese twin brother,
And so we wouldn't fret, we wouldn't worry,
After all, to catch up, there was no hurry.

After passing Jupiter one more time,
Gazing at it's colorful stripes sublime,
Icy the Ice Queen would need some air,
She'd need a break, which was only fair.

She'd wonder out onto the left wing,
Of our grandiose ship full of doggy bling.
There she'd sit and look at the stars,
As we'd travel further away from Mars.

Immanuel noticed her leave the room,
And after giving his hair a plume,
He'd follow her out the door,
And walk 10 feet, plus a bit more,

Before sitting down next to her,
And politely, a conversation he'd stir:
"I certainly hope I'm not intruding,
And I don't mean to cause any brooding.

But I couldn't help but notice you,
That you left the group, the crew.
And, well, I hope everything's all right,
I hope you're feeling well on this night."

"Hey, you," would respond Icy,
"That's, like, so sweet, even spicy!
But I'm totally OK--I'm just chillin',
Come, sit with me--that is, if you're willin'."

"My lady, it would be a pleasure,
It would be an honor and a treasure,"
Would say Immanuel, putting on the charm,
And sitting down, arm pressed against arm,

"For on such a clear night such as this,
And with so much time to just remiss,
There is so much to talk about--
Anything--nothing should we flout.

So why don't you pick a topic--
Hugely significant or microscopic--
From the deepest mysteries of nature,
to the banalities of agriculture."

"Well, I do like the stars,
I kinda wish I had binoculars,
That way, I could, like, see what they are,
Suns, planets, or alien space ships afar.

Oh, they're, like, so pretty and bright,
Like sparkling diamonds in the night.
I wish I had wings, you know,
So I could fly amongst them so."

"Your curiosity is enchanting, my dear,
Your lust for knowledge is very clear,
But if you want to explore,
You'll need something more--

More powerful than binoculars, that is to say;
I recommend a telescope--that is, if I may.
Why, did you know, by Galileo it was invented?
In his genius mind, the idea had fermented.

Along with a theory of relativity,
Though not Einstein's--that's silly.
Einstein was several years ahead of him;
He made Galileo's theory look rather slim--"

"Umm, you're, like, totally missing the point, dude,"
Interrupted the Ice Queen, trying not to be rude,
"I think it's, like, totally rad,
That this science stuff makes you glad,

But I, like, don't even know those guys--
Well, I heard of Einstein; I heard he's very wise,
And Galileo rings a bell--isn't he a science guy,
Who, according to you, looked up at the sky?

But I, like, think that's boring--no offense--
I'm just totally stunned by how awesome a sense,
I get when I gaze into the sky,
It inspires questions like 'why?'

'Why,' for example, 'Do the stars twinkle?'
They're like pixie dust that I might sprinkle,
On cupcakes or cookies, or chocolate pudding pie,
But why, Immanuel? I'm always asking why?

And how far away are they, anyhow?
And though they seem fixed right now,
Can they move? Or were they always there?
Pinned to the night sky without a care?

I'm sure those science guys figured it out,
About your knowledge of them, I have no doubt,
But I don't really care for a history lesson;
To find the answers would be the real blessin'."

"But of course," Immanuel would respond,
"How silly to think that you would be fond,
Of old geezers like Galileo and Einstein.
If its answers you seek, that would be fine.

Those stars, my dear, are burning balls of gas,
A billion and some years would have to pass,
Even if we traveled at the speed of light,
To get to them in a long and boring flight.

That's why they seem so small,
Smaller even than a ping-pong ball.
They're just that far away,
But make no mistake, not on this day,

For they're really no different than our Sun,
Hot, bright, and weighing well over a ton.
You ask if they move--well, they do!
Oh, you can't see it--this might be true.

But you wait a couple centuries or so,
And then for sure you'll know,
That a few of them have indeed shifted,
A few inches would they have been lifted.

It seems so slow, I understand,
But, oh, how much space does expand--
This great big universe that we live in,
Is so vast, our knowledge of it so thin,

That what seems to us so slow,
Is a thousand times faster than we know.
For did you know, my dear,
We travel 150 million km per year?

That's the distance the Earth travels,
Around the Sun when another year unravels.
Now that's fast, wouldn't you say?
Yet the stars by night, and the Sun by day,

Seem fixed in the sky, perfectly still,
As though we're not moving, our speed nil.
Such are the wonders of our cosmos so great,
At least, according to my knowledge to date."

"Well, that's, like, really cool, Immanuel.
So each star isn't like a little granule?
They're each, like, totally humongous?
Huger than a big red double-Decker bus?

I never knew that. I totally had no clue.
You see, Immanuel, what you can do,
When you, like, inspire my imagination,
How it totally fills me with elation?

That's the stuff that inspires me,
That's what sets my imagination free.
Almost as though my soul were to fly,
Through this awesome and bodacious astral sky.

I would travel past our Sun and to the stars.
I would see if other planets exist, like Mars.
Planets that orbit these other stars, as you say,
These huge burning balls of gas that give us day.

I'd visit these other planets, cousins to Mars and Earth,
I'd meet with other people, and for what it's worth,
Their kings and queens--and presidents too.
Oh, it would be exciting and all so new!

You see, Immanuel, that's why I got into politics.
I get to go to parties, mingle and mix.
Some say I just never grew out of high school,
That I never studied much--as a rule,

And though I can't deny--because it's true--
I never could get into math, and science too,
I did study--ardently, to the bone--
I studied 'til I made it to the thrown.

I studied people, I studied how they interact,
I figured out how boys and girls attract,
I learned how to form alliances, to make friends,
To be positive, and about the message that sends.

That's what I'm good at, you know,
It's a talent that rids me of woe,
It's what brought me political success,
Which helped back when I was a princess."

"Indeed," Immanuel would say with soft-spoken voice,
"I can tell--for you would be my first choice--
Anyone's--should it come to a decision,
Made with absolute care and precision,

Of who I'd want to lead this great big world,
For if ever into war or peace we were hurled,
I'd trust you, above any other person,
For only then would things never worsen."

"Immanuel," Icy would say, "You are sweet,
And I'll tell you a secret, a little treat:
If I ever needed an adviser, It'd certainly be you--
You could be my muse, my one-man inspiration crew.

I'll ask you questions, and you'll enlighten my world,
With you by my side, all mysteries will be unfurled.
I'll use your wisdom only for good, I swear,
And I'll reward you justly, which is only fair."

"My lady, the pleasure would be mine,
To act in your service would be divine.
You may come to me with any question,
Concern or problem; I'll give my suggestion."

Then on his cheek, Icy would kiss him,
And say "you're a darling," just on a whim.
Immanuel would blush, and chuckled a little,
And would feel warm right in his middle.

But then: "Aw, you guys suck!"
Would say a voice, ruining their luck,
"Gits youselves a room, don' make me sick!
That lovy-dovy stuff is jus' ick!"

They'd both look toward the ship.
Startled, Immanuel would clasp Icy's hip.
There seemed to be an apple,
Moldy brown with a bit of dapple.

The voice would seem to come from there.
And protruding from the apple would be a hair.
At least, it'd look like a hair at first,
But a closer look would reveal something worse.

It would be a worm, slimy and pink,
With a scowl that'd make you shrink,
From fear of its grumpy demeanor,
For you would too if you'd seen 'er.

"This is mushy-wushy poop--
It is!--I'm givin' you de scoop,
So snap outa it you 2,
Kisses make me grumpy, it's true.

Say--whewe de heck am I?
A set a' Martian teeff being nigh,
Is the last ting I seems to recalls,
Since retreatin' into my apple walls.

It waz a close call, dat's fo suwe.
Da rest iz aw' jus' a bluwr.
Ya know--I tink I must'a fainted,
And 'cause a' dat, my memowy's tainted.

But whewe da heck am I?
I appeaw to be way up high,
In outa space dat is--on a ship!
Goin' fow an unexpected space twip!

Who ordewed dis? Cewtenly not me!
My home of Maws I nevew wanted to flee!
So take me back wight now--I command you!
In dis festewing apple, don't make me stew."

"I'm afraid, Mr. Worm," Immanuel would say,
"Returning to Mars is not an option today.
I tell you this with sincere and heartfelt regret,
For we're headed away from Mars--please don't fret."

"Now, wait a minute Immanuel," Icy would retort,
"That, like, depends, in a manner of sort:
I mean, don't you think, Immanuel my friend,
That Mr. and Mrs. Martian would tend,

To putting Mars back into place?
On the move, wouldn't they be, through space?
Back to the place where Mars should belong,
Which is where we've been headed all along?"

"Why, yes, my dear--how clever you are,"
Would say Immanuel lighting up like a star,
"So then, Mr. Worm, we may get you home yet.
We'll make a pit stop when, to Mars, we get."

"And how long will dat take? Yeas?
By den, I'll pwabably gwow ears!
Nah, jus' pick me up an' chuck me,
Pwease, like a bottle into da sea."

"Like, dude, you want us to chuck you?"
Icy would question his intentions true,
"Like, launch you forward, like a throw?
Why? To make you go, like, less slow?"

"Yea, gib me a bit mo' momentum or someth'n,
Some oomph--heck, it's betta' dan noth'n.
Jus' pick me up, wind yea' arms back,
And Swing foward wit' yo elbows slack.

Oh, and remembe to release you grip,
Oderwise, I ain't leavin' dis snail-paced trip.
If you could do dat for me.
You can weturn to yo' kissy-kissy."

"Well, I suppose it's worth a shot,"
Would conclude Immanuel, hesitating not,
"If that's really what you want,
I'll do it--it'll be like a space jaunt."

So Immanuel would scoop up the apple,
And like tying himself to a rappel,
Mr. Worm would sink into his hole,
Inside the apple, like a mole.

Immanuel would throw back his right arm,
And with the left, keep Icy away from harm.
Then for practice, he'd count to three,
Before setting Mr. Worm and his apple free.

"One for the money, two for the show,
Three to get ready, and four... to... go!"
And as Immanuel would utter those last words,
Mr. Worm would be sent flying like the birds.

"Well, I'm getting chilly. How 'bout you?"
Immanuel would ask, "Shall we return to the crew?"
"Why, yes," Icy would answer, "It is rather cold,
Space tends to be like that, or so I'm told."

"Yes," Immanuel would agree, "minus 270.45 degrees,
To be exact--pretty cold, thus the knocking of my knees."
"Oh," Icy would reply, "you space guy you,
You're such a science nerd, it's true."
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Posts: 8773
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sat Aug 16, 2014 7:10 am

"Woof!" they heard over the speakers,
Immanuel removing his sneakers,
"What's taking so wong?!" Sparky would bark,
"When is dis ship finawwy gonna pawk?

When is it gonna wand, dat is to say?
We shoulda' been to Satuwn in wess dan a day.
Ouw tummies awe wumbwing and making weiwd sounds.
In fact, we'we woosing weight by sevewal pounds."

At just that point, it would occur to me,
That we'd have forgot to tell them, you see--
Those doggies playing quietly in the back room,
Quietly as a dark and old forgotten tomb--

That our course had changed since Friday,
Which means they would be in for a long stay.
After regretfully informing them of this news,
And listening to them howl from their blues,

They'd say, "Ah, if Satuwn is not in ouw fate,
We'ww teww you of the neft cwosest pwanet, my mate--
A pwanet known fow its dewicious snacks,
A pwanet on which we can stop and wewax:

Venus is wewe we want to go,
Venus is da pwace to be, you know.
So if you set ouw couwse for da white pwanet,
I pwomise we'ww get back to ouw game and can it."

Well, how would I argue with that?
Venus was, after all, where we'd be at,
In a matter of hours, maybe minutes, for sure,
For Earth would've just passed by in a blur.

In fact, I'd see Venus blinking on our radar,
I'd even see it out the window--it wouldn't be far.
"Let's take a break," I'd command,
"Let's go there, to that star, and land."

So to Venus covered in white cloud,
We'd aim to go, as I'd announce out loud.
We'd cut through the fog like a knife so slick,
And then smell something in the air so thick.

It would smell like chicken cooking,
Or something burnt and charred-looking.
Something on the barbeque anyhow,
Like pork tenderloin, or steak from a cow.

Then the ground would start to appear,
As the dense mire would begin to clear.
And after a few seconds more,
We'd see strange objects galore.

They'd be like metal cubes scattered about;
Billows of smoke, they'd be spewing out--
No doubt the source of all this fog,
Polluting the air like city smog.

We'd get closer still and begin to make out,
What these curious machines were without doubt.
And after a moment, we couldn't deny it--
We couldn't be mistaken or wrong, not one bit.

It would be clear what covered the landscape,
Maybe all Venus, like whip cream over a crape.
Venus must be home, it would seem,
To hot dog vendors, millions, a whole ream.

There they were by the legions--
With nothing in those in-between regions--
Except for the rocky grounds,
That covered Venus to its bounds,

Each one puffing out clouds of smoke and steam,
Loaded with buns and condiments it would seem.
And Each one would have a vendor at the helm,
Someone so big, fat, and greasy, it would overwhelm,

Anyone in their presence, in their haven,
For they'd also be bald and kinda unshaven,
They'd wear a greasy white muscle shirt,
And out their mouths would occasionally spurt,

One or two little rings of smoke,
After inhaling a manly toke,
From their cigars which no doubt added,
To the pollution with which Venus was padded.

"Well," I would say at last,
"They were right, the puppy cast,
For indeed it seems clear to me,
That snacks galore do I see.

Inform the dogs that we have arrived,
That they will no longer be deprived,
Of the tasty treats and yummy snacks,
That help them play cards and to relax."

On the rocky ground, we would land,
About 10 yards from a hotdog stand,
And upon stepping out, Rex would sniff,
The savory air--a mouth watering whiff.

"Now dat's what I caww," he would say,
"Da beft dawn sewvice we had today,
We asked fow snacks, and boy did you dewivew,
Young Gabwiew, wike watew fwom a wivew."

"And would you wook at dat," would add Spot,
"It's Fwanky, da best vendow in da wot."
"Fwanky?" would light up Puddles in surprise,
"Da vendow who offews fwee fwench fwies?"

"Dat's wight, Puddwes, but as you know,
Of couwse, only when we buy chips-a-la-potatoe,
Awong wiv a pop-a-la-soda, any fwavow,
As wong as da taste you wiww savow."

"Weww," Buster would add, "what awe we waiting fow?
Wet's say hi to ouw owd time fwiend Fwanky,
Fwom whom we've bought many-a-dewicious snack,
Wike da speciaw 'wewease-da-gweece-heawt-attack'!"

And before even a step they'd take,
From his daydream, Franky would awake,
For he'd notice them through the fog,
Thick and opaque like a muddy bog.

He'd say "Well, if it ain' my favuit cuients--
What's up dogs?" as he'd wipe clean his appliance.
"What c'n I getcha guys? What's yo' pueasue?
I got whateva y'want, like a chest a' tueasue."

He'd hold up his fist and pound theirs down,
Welcoming them with an up-side-down frown,
Being sure, of course, to put out his cigar,
Clearing the toxins like exhaust from a car.

"How 'bout da usual," he'd continue,
And then think for a second or two:
"Wha' was it again? I can't quite remembeu.
My memouy's bin' failin' since last Septembue."

"Don't fwet it, Fwanky," Sparky would reassure,
"Fow we wemembew what we wike fow sure,
"Da'd be 5 hundwed smokies, aww dwessed,
Aaaah, dose smokies--dey awe da best."

"And don't fowget my favowit, Fwanky,"
Puddles would interject, sounding swanky,
Nachos wiv chicken, jawapino, and cheese,
And don't fowget de sawsa, pwetty pwease."

"How could I foget, Puddues," Franky would reply,
"And if memouee seuves, if it doesn't lie,
Dat would be de buwk oudue, am I uight?
De cuate fue of cheesy nacho deuight?"

"Vewy good, Fwanky my boy, I'm impwessed,
Nachos in buwk would put my tommy to west."
Then Buster would pipe in, adding to the order:
"Make dat a doubwe buwk, Fwanky, pwus a qwuatew,

Fow I'm in da mood for nachos too, you know,
Even if, to you Fwanky, a wot mowe money I'd owe."
"So a tousand owdues of de bugues wit' cheesy doubue bacon,
Wit' a side a fuies isn't de decision dat youe makin'?"

"No, Fwanky, not dis time,
Today, nachos awe mowe subwime."
"Weww, Bustew," Rex would chime in,
On his face a great big grin,

"If today you'we having a change of heawt,
And to owdew youw usuaww you won't even stawt,
Den dis time I'ww take youw pwace,
And wid buwgews stuff my doggy face.

So keep dose buwgews on de tabwe, Fwank,
Ow wadew on de gwill so dey don't get dank,
And don't fowget to add extwa cheese,
And you know what? Twippwe de bacon pwease."

"A tousand cheesy doubue bacon bugues comin' up,"
Franky would confirm in response to Rex the pup,
"And what'll it be fo' you, Spot?
Pizza? Chicken stuips? Hesitate not."

"Just chips fow me, Fwanky," Spot would say,
"And I heawd twough de gwape vine back in May,
Dat you have a new fwavow--is it twue?
Dog biscuit fwavowed chips (cowewed bwue)?"

"Indeed, Spot indeed. I have 10 million of 'em!
10 million bags, dat is, which I bought on a whim.
In fact, I'ww give you a speciau deaw,
Which I know to you it wiww appeaw:

You can pay de ueguwar pwice: 50 cents a pop,
You can have as many as you want, non-stop-
Or you can have aww 10 miuuion fow a dollau.
Now I know dat's a deaw to which you wiuu hollau."

And indeed they would--holler that is--
For in the hot dog and greasy snack bizz,
A million bags of chips for a dollar,
Is an order that couldn't be taller.

But it would be real--as they'd plainly see--
For Franky would repeat it for no extra fee:
"So le'me get dis stuaight, jus' to be cleau--
Fow messin' up you'we oudou we shouldn't feau:

Dat was a miuuion doggy buscuit chips,
All fow a dollau (not includin' tips).
Den dere's de tousand cheesy doubue bacon--
er, tuipue bacon, dat is, buegues I'm makin'

Aftue dat, dere's de ordeu of cheese covued nachos,
A whow' cuate fuww, tall as yo' head to yo' toes.
And last but not least, dere's de 500 hot dogs,
Aww duessed, of course, made wiv beef, not fwogs."

"Not hot dogs, Fwanky," would retort Sparky,
"Smokies! What's wif dis 'hot dog' malarchy?
You know vewy weww how doggist it is--
Dis tewm 'hot dog'--how it fiwws us wiv rizz.

I tought we had dis dithcussion befow,
Did we not, Fwanky? We awgued it to de cowe!
If you want us to wemain faifull cwients,
You haf to maintain, upon you, ouw wewiance,

And fow us to compwetwy wewy on you,
You must be kind and undoggist too,
So pwease, pwease, pwetty pwease,
Awways say "smokie," okie-dokie?"

"Souuy 'bout dat, Spawky, I meant no offense,
But to tell you de twuf, lately I've been dense--
At least my memouy has--it's been failin' me--
Fow I can't wemembue what I did at a quatew to tuee,

Let alone de discussions we had 'bout doggism--
But I tell you what--I'll fix dis antagonism:
I'll make you guys an offeu you can't refuse,
Though to weject it is a decision you can choose.

I'll climb abowd yo' ship oveu dere.
I'll seuve you guys widout a care.
Wheneveu you want, whateveu you want.
I swea on da guave of my favowit aunt.

It would suwe beat lazin' 'round here,
Where de economy is dismal--it's cleaw.
I mean, don' get me wuong, don' misundeustand,
You bwing good business, but on de oder hand,

You'we my only cwients, and you don' come of'n,
And it's bwinging me cwoser to de economic coffin.
I mean, I appweciate you'we business, it keeps me afwoat,
Unwike Walter dere, whose stand is wike a sinkin' boat."

He'd point to Walter, the hotdog vendor closest by,
Who, upon closer inspection, was about to cry.
He'd be packing his stuff, stowing away the relish,
He'd be out of business, and feeling hellish.

"So whadya say?" Frank would continue,
"Is it OK fo' me to buing my venue,
On boad yo' ship and seuve eveuy one'a'ya?
I'll can de doggism and stop makin' fun'a'ya."

"Hmmm..." Buster would think,
But then before anyone could blink,
Puddles would jump in and speak:
"If it's fwequent business you seek,

Den by aww means, Fwanky, cwimb aboawd!
I can't wesist youw offew. It has me fwoord."
"Howd on now, Puddwes," Buster would assert,
"Ouw captain, I tink we should first awert.

Gabwiew cawws de shots awound hewe,
And we must wemain faiful, it's cwear.
Wet's bwing Fwanky to ouw honowabwe weadew,
Wet's not get in twoubwe, for de sake of Petew."
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Nov 09, 2014 5:52 am

And introduce Franky to me, they would,
Just as a good and loyal crew should.
Franky and the pack of dogs would climb aboard,
Plus the hot dog stand--that couldn't be ignored.

And before Frank would even start paying rent,
We'd all immediately smell the yummy sent,
Of the greasy, juice, cheesy-BBQ-flavored aroma;
So yummy, Immanuel would almost fall into a coma.

But we'd catch him and stand him back up,
Just before Franky would greet us: "S'up?
I mean, I hope you don't mind my intwudin'.
I swea' I'm not a teaf intent on stealin'.

In fact, I intend to bwing you and you' cwew,
Much seuvice and enjoyment--it's twue.
So I hope you don' mind dis here contuaption.
Foa it's de souace of you' futua satisfaction."

"Future satisfaction can't be all that bad,"
I'd say in response, making Franky glad,
"And by the looks of it, I'd venture a guess,
That satisfaction will come from nothing less,

Than whatever's brewing under the hood,
Of your so-call contraption--it's understood,
And by the sent in the air, I'd have to say,
It's hot dogs galore--most joyous and gay!

But, oh, allow me to introduce myself,
I'm two years old, and small as an elf.
I'm a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.

And this is my crew whose names I will assert--
Some of which are absent, like Sally and Hubert,
There's also Sir Marsian--they're on another ship--
We'll rendezvous on Saturn at the end of our trip.

But as for the one's that are here,
The ones you can see so very clear,
This is Teddy and there's Immanuel, and that,
Frank, is Icy, Queen of Mars--isn't that phat?!

The dogs you know, I will presume,
But as a formality, I will resume,
This well rehearsed introduction,
For as the captain, it is my function.

From left to right, and front to back,
From top to bottom, from white to black,
That's Buster, Rex, Spot, and Puddles,
And finally Sparky--I hear he likes cuddles."

"It's a pleasua to meetchya,
Wid all sincewity, I greetchya,
And I pwomise I won' be in yo' way,
If only you'd show me a pwace to stay."

"Wight dis way, Fwanky," would usher Buster,
"In de back woom, next to de wocket twuster."
The dogs would lead Franky to the game room,
He'd keep them fed and their game would resume.

Well, at this point, I would decide,
That before we'd continue on our ride,
Before we'd cross another planetary border,
A refresher on our mission would be in order.

I'd grab the mic firmly in my palm,
And I'd announce over the intercom,
(Even though we'd all be within ear shot,
But that's what captains do, is it not?):

"Hear ye, hear ye, one and all!
Loyal members of my crew, hear my call.
This is your captain speaking.
Your attention I hope I'm peeking.

Whether you're well or got indigestion,
It is time I posed the following question:
Is it time to rest our weary heads?
To laze around, to relax in our beds?

Nay--I say--never for a moment!
We will not tolerate postponement,
Of our journey only beginning,
Worlds await us, out there, spinning.

Why, who among us could sit by,
And do nothing but watch the paint dry?
Not I, not me,
Not when there's a universe to see,

A cosmos full of stars and wonderful worlds,
Some dark and sinister, others white as pearls,
Some desolate and barren of benevolence,
Others teaming with life and intelligence.

So let's move on, let's move forward,
Let's blast off and head starward,
Let's not waste another minute,
Let's gear up and get to it!"

Well, that ought to do it, I'd think,
And before anyone could even blink,
I'd command us to blow this popsicle stand,
Away from Venus and towards another land,

That land being Saturn, of course,
Now would not be the time for remorse,
No crying over pit-stops or delays,
A path to Saturn we would now blaze.

But the strangest thing would happen,
About an hour or two into our travellin'.
Along side our left flank,
Looking like a great big tank,

Would pull up our old ship,
The one whose wing had a rip,
The one that crashed and burned,
On Jupiter, and our fate overturned.

But somehow it had lodged free,
And there beside us it would be;
There'd be no sign of a dent in the wing,
No crack, no rip, shiny and new like bling.

Whoever would be driving that beast,
Would honk the horn--3 times at least,
So I'd roll down the window and stick out my head,
The solar winds freezing my face beat red.

"Hey, roll down your window!" I'd shout,
And what'd happen next, I couldn't help but doubt,
For who would be at the helm, at the wheel?
It would be Sir Marsian--how surreal!

"Gaby, my old friend!" he'd hollar at me,
"Long time no see--wouldn't you agree?
I was on my way to mail a letter to you,
But now that I've stumbled across your crew,

Why don't I just hand it over,
And bring to my trip some closure."
He'd grab something from his lap,
And reach his arm out across the gap,

I'd grab the object from his grip,
And pull myself back into my ship.
What could it be, this mysterious gift,
From Sir Marsian out there adrift?

Why, it would be a post-card,
Figuring that out wouldn't be hard,
And by the looks of the image on the cover,
It'd be from Sally, Hubert, and one other:

Could it be? But surely it could!
The Travelocity Gnome with them stood.
They seemed to be at an amusement park.
The Ferris wheel would be the defining mark.

Cotton candy would be in Hubert's left hand,
While Sally held a huge teddy bear, and,
The Travelocity Gnome would stand right before them,
Holding a yummy looking candy apple by the stem.

"Why look!" would exclaim Immanuel with glee,
"That's Hubert and Sally--don't you see?"
"And, like, is that the Travelocity Gnome?
Or am I trippin', being so far from home?"

Icy would question with stupefaction,
And I'd respond with a gut reaction:
"I betcha we'll all find out,
By reading the back, no doubt."

"Let's read what they wrote,
"Eh-hem," I'd clear my throat,
"'Dear Captain Gabe and your loyal crew,
That is, the half away from which we flew,

Inadvertently that is, unintentionally--
If you are reading this, then eventually,
Sir Marsian must have caught up with you,
Most likely, right out of the blue.

Well, you're probably wondering:
What's with this sundering?
That is, this separation, this dividing,
Between your ship and the one I'm riding.

Well, I take full responsibility--blame me,
Not Sally, not Sir Marsian--for you see:
I volunteered to man the helm, to drive,
It's my fault that together we did not arrive.

I was an imbecile, a nimrod, a dunce,
For it should have occurred to me at once,
That of course it's the Fall season,
Which means that Saturn, for that reason,

Is on the opposite side of the Sun,
From which we enjoyed our travellin' fun.
So I went the wrong way--silly me--
Which is why away from you we did flee.

But never fear--we made it to our destination--
That's right--Saturn--that awesome ringed nation;
In fact, have a look at the imagine on this card,
Go ahead, I'll wait, like a Swiss Guard."

So I'd flip the card over to have another look:
Same old image, like reading a familiar book,
But of course, Hubert wouldn't continue,
Unless I'd oblige him--this I knew.

"That park, that fair," he'd go on,
"Is Saturn--we've been here since dawn--
We have no choice, we're trapped, we can't escape--
This amusement park covers the whole landscape,

Not that I'm complaining--
My enjoyment I'm sustaining--
And Sally's too, that's for sure,
For she smiles something pure.

But that's Saturn for you:
One big amusement park--it's true--
Rides galore and corn dog stands everywhere,
Mascots and haunted houses here and there.

Clowns and carnies, games and shows,
Cover Saturn like white winter snows,
Snows that fall and cover the ground,
On polar ice caps where it does abound.

Oh, and you were probably just now wondering,
How, after all our space travel blundering,
We met up with that little guy so far from home--
Well, indeed, it's him--the Travelocity Gnome.

But before we get to that,
I must digress from this chat;
I must give some background,
Some explanation that is sound.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Feb 01, 2015 8:20 am

But before we get to that,
I must digress from this chat;
I must give some background,
Some explanation that is sound.

You see, we were on our way to Saturn--
Or so we thought--but soon did learn,
That we had gone the wrong way;
We figured that out after about a day.

We figured it out because of Uranus--
For the sight of it was most heinous--
Not that Uranus is ugly, not at all,
But that we missed Saturn by a long haul.

For that's what it implied,
Seeing the blue ball which we spied,
Out the window of our spaceship,
Learning that Saturn gave us the slip.

But what else could I do,
But land my trusty crew?
We were low on gas, after all,
So landing was the best call.

But about half way to landing us,
Neptune rammed us like a city bus,
Which was quite odd to say the least,
For it was in the wrong place, the beast.

You see, on a typical day,
Which this was, you could say,
Neptune would be further out,
Further than Uranus, no doubt.

So why it was between Uranus and the Sun,
Was a question that answering was no fun.
In fact, I couldn't answer it if I tried,
It was so puzzling, that I almost cried.

So Neptune hit us, like I said.
Luckily, no one was hurt or dead.
Yet the impact launched Sally far away.
It threw her to Uranus, there to stay.

Sir Martian and I, on the other hand,
Remained planted on Neptune's soily land.
Stepping out of our ship, now a glorious wreck,
We looked around and thought 'What the heck?'

'What do we do now? And where's Sally?' I asked,
Two more questions with which my mind was tasked.
'Beats me. And beats me,' answered Sir Martian,
Which, on my worried face, did not put a grin.

Then all of a sudden, blaring our eardrums,
Causing me to stick, in my ears, my thumbs,
A deafening sound blasted from a speaker--
I wished like pickles it would have been weaker.

It said: 'GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!

(They must have meant my shirt--
For I think I forgot to assert--
I was wearing blue that day--
I like blue--what can I say?)

Turning my head, I looked and I spied:
A parascope with which we had been eyed.
It was sticking two feet out of the ground,
And attached to its side, a speaker I found.

Obviously, that's where the voice came from,
Blaring loudly like an electric guitar strum,
And with the parascope looking down on us,
Sir Martian started to make such a fuss:

'What? Who said that? Who goes there?
You frightened me so much, I lost my hair!
Not that I had any to begin with, of course,
But if I did, I'd lose it, and feel remorse.'

Yelled the voice, deafening us to the nth degree,

ONE, TWO, THREE... oh boy, this won't be fun.'

All of a sudden, and to my utter surprise,
The landscape disappeared before my very eyes;
We were falling--falling down, down, down--
The ground had given way--it skipped town--

That is to say, the ground on which we stood,
Must have been a trap door--and that wasn't good--
For they meant business--that is, the voice--
And they followed through--they made their choice,

To take action, like they said they would,
And release the trap door on which we stood.
Thus, free falling were we, down a dark abyss,
Sharp objects and solid ground I hoped to miss.

But we landed on a cushion, or something soft,
And it left us dizzy, our heads very much aloft.
We stood up straight--as straight as we could--
With our knees shaking as anyone's would.

We managed to step off, onto solid ground,
And upon looking around, guess what I found?
It was like a central control station,
That spied on everything across the nation,

With monitors, wires, and computers galore,
With circuit boards, flashing lights, and more.
People in uniforms everywhere did abound--
Busy, hussling, working hard all around.

And there was one guy in the middle,
A parascope with which he did fiddle;
He held the handles with his two hands,
And with his eyes, he spied on the lands--

The landscape above, that is--
For it wouldn't take a math whizz--
To figure out that this parascope,
The very one which his hands did grope,

Was the same one which we saw a minute ago,
The one way up on the surface, you know.
This guy looking, peering through it--
And this, I can't explain--I just knew it--

Was the voice that spoke and almost deafened us,
And hurt our ears so bad, it almost made me cuss.
He was down here, spying on the world above--
But to know the reason why--that I'd love.

'welcome, strangers, welcome,' he warmly did say,
From the parascope, pulling his face away,
'Sorry I had to do that, but you were warned;
I couldn't see, my view was forelorned.

My name's Bill, nice to meet'ya both,
And I swear as though on an oath,
That though I must have given you a scare,
I didn't mean to dislodge you from up there.

You see, I'm at the helm here,
Driving Neptune, trying to steer,
We're in a race, Uranus and we,
It's our annual Olympics, you see.

Now, there's something I have to confess:
We just cheated, but it's no distress;
These games of ours were never that strict,
Following rules is a habit we long ago kicked.

We try not to let it get out of hand,
Some rules have to stick, you understand,
But the minor ones are quite loosy-goosy,
In fact, it makes playing more fun and juicy.'

'Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude,'
I interrupted, trying not to offend the dude,
'But in what way, may I ask, did you cheat?
What kind of rule did you fail to meet?'

'We cut a corner, took a detour,
We slipped beneath the orbital contour;
We stepped outside of our lane,
For it causes us much trouble and pain.

You see, my guests from far away,
Since our orbit is, on an ordinary day,
Much wider than that of our competition--
We can calculate with mathematical precision,

That in a race around the Sun,
The time it would take would be a ton,
Compared to that of Uranus, our competition,
To do a full lap, a complete revolution.

For you must understand, foreign strangers--
Of losing this race, we are in many dangers;
Since our orbit is wider than that of Uranus,
It is also longer--and this is most heinous--

And thus, so is the amount of time--
And this is our reason and rhyme,
For why we cheated, why we enhanced our pace--
That it would take us to finish this race.

We jumped out of our orbit, in other words,
And even flew past Uranus, like the birds,
Then we made a b-line straight ahead,
And put ourselve in the lead instead,

For it makes sense, wouldn't you agree,
That the shortest distance, don't you see,
Between two points is a straight line--
For that is a logic both flawless and divine.

It sure beats rushing around a curve,
An arched path around which we must swerve.
I hope that answers your question, Sir,
I hope that explains what just now did occur.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must resume,
In order to avoid our early doom,
My surveillance of the surface up there--
Or rather the space above it, the one we share--

Uranus and us, that is,
For we aren't done this bizz;
Uranus is bound to retaliate--
That's a certainty as sure as fate;

So I must turn this gadget around,
See what on Uranus is to be found,
I must spy on her and see her reaction,
And thereby be ready for any action.

But on second thought, why don't you--
Friendly strangers who appeared out the blue--
Have a look yourselves--please, don't be shy--
Step right up to the visors, give 'em a try.'

'Don't mind if I do,' I eagerly said,
And dragged over my silver haired head,
And stuck it right in the spot for the eyes,
And wouldn't you know it--it was just my size.

'Now, let me instruct you, my good friend'
Bill said, his helping hand he did lend,
'Right now, you're looking straight ahead.
Where you need to be looking,' he said,

'Is in a totally different spatial section,
In the complete, total, and opposite direction;
You need to turn around 180 degrees--
Just do an about face--it's a breeze.

For it's Uranus that you're looking for,
And she's not ahead, certainly not on the floor,
We just whizzed by her like a speeding winnabego,
You must recall the tail I told a few seconds ago.'

Of course, I recalled, and I understood,
So I followed Bill's words as best I could,
And turned my body, pulling with me the parascope,
Bringing Uranus into view being my hope.

But did I find Uranus?--no, nothing of the kind;
What I found instead almost made me blind,
For it was Sally's face that I spotted,
Her hair all tangled and knotted.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
resident exorcist
Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Mar 22, 2015 1:54 am

Her face was all dirty and covered in soot,
Something messy anyway covered her head to foot,
She looked like she was pulling herself out,
Of a garbage pile, a trash heap, junk all about.

I twisted the handles to zoomed out a bit more--
Sally's face is pretty, but I wanted to explore,
More of her surroundings just to get a feel,
For the predicament which around her did congeal.

In other words, I wanted to understand,
What she was doing in that far off land,
Which, by now, I surely realized,
Was Uranus--or at least I theorized,

But what else could it be?
The land of Honolee?
Of course not--that's silly,
It had to be Uranus--I mean, really.

So there was Sally brushing herself off,
Regaining her balance, letting out a cough,
Almost as though she had just fallen,
From the Heavens and then started crawlin',

And then stood up as best she could,
Grabbing onto something made of wood,
And wiping away the hair from her face,
She looked around the smelly old place.

It was junk as far as she could see,
Rolling hills of garbage and stinky debris,
The landscape was filthy and covered in rot,
Mountains of scrap and waste--it was a lot.

Banana peels and apple cores covered the ground,
Here and there, scrumpled up paper did abound,
An old broken television sat beside her,
And to her left, a rusty bent screwdriver,

Straight ahead was a caked up frying pan,
It was leaning against a busted electric fan,
Someone musta' thrown them out, Sally thought,
I mean, they're probably worth diddly squat.

Strewn about them were a hundred soup cans,
One was squashed: chowder made with clams,
A few made a trail--they lead to the next mound,
The junk in that pile would surely astound,

It contained a patch of spilt kitty litter,
Leaking out the bag that no longer fit 'er,
The litter partly covered a Barbie doll,
Missing an arm with which she could call,

Using the cracked phone, if she only could,
Which was inches away and would do her good,
If she could reach it and make a call,
Maybe to Ken, or even anybody at all,

And ask someone to clean up this mess,
But alas, one would have to confess,
After taking in the full mass of it all--
The landfill, Uranus, in the shape of a ball--

That this was just the way it was,
That Uranus was a mess just because,
Because what? Because why?
Well, who knows, by and by,

Why Uranus got covered in junk,
Covered in gross disgusting gunk,
But it was clear to see for sure,
That this was a planet of waste pure.

So that's the mess Sally found herself in,
She'd have to deal with it--thick or thin--
But what did she care for getting dirty--
She was an engineer, even quite nerdy--

She was used to greece and grime,
With messy jobs, she spent a lot of time,
So she dusted herself off and stood straight,
As straight as she could at any rate.

Meanwhile, still beside myself I was,
Why was Sally there? Just Because?
I even uttered my thoughts aloud:
'That's Sally! Up there, like a cloud!

What in Heaven's name is she doing there?
Why, to see her there gives me quite a scare.'
'What?' Sir Martian spoke, 'Sally, did you say?
Move over, Hubert, get out of the way,'

For Sir Martian was eager to see,
Sally, our friend, who from us did flee.
With his hip, Sir Martian gave me a nudge--
Just to make room, but I didn't hold a grudge;

I was hogging the parascope, after all,
And he was only concerned for Sally, the doll,
So I let him look through the parascope,
Rather than just sit there and mope.

'Yeah,' he said, 'there she is all right,
On top of a garbage heap. What a sight!
Oh, and look: what's she doing now?
Looks like she's climbing down--oh, wow!

She's almost at the bottom, and--oh!
Oh my Gosh! Oh my Heavens! Oh, no!
She just... she just disappeared.
Like she vanished into thin air--weird!'

'Disappeared?!' I questioned with alarm,
'Into thin air, you say?! Did she incur harm?'
I pushed Sir Martian out of the way,
And peered through the visors as Bill did say:

'Don't worry--I know what it was;
Here, let me throw this switch because,
Well, because it's the X-Ray vision switch,
And with it, your vision will be twice as rich--

That is to say, you will be able to see,
Right through anything--believe you me;
If this friend of yours--this Sally--
Has disappeared, as though down an alley,

Then it was probably a trap door;
At least a million of them, maybe more,
Cover Uranus like a case of chicken pox,
Or a messy bedroom covered in dirty socks,

But if X-Ray vision we simply turn on,
Then all our troubles will be long gone,
For then we can see beneath the surface,
Which will certainly help with your purpose.'

So Bill flicked the switch,
And I all of sudden did twitch,
For the sight I suddenly saw,
Was enough to put me in awe,

For what I saw was the interior,
Of Uranus--it was certainly superior,
To just skimming the surface for sure,
For our troubles were over--this was the cure!

For now I could see Sally--in fact I did!
Down a whirly-twirly slide she slid,
Round and round in circles she went,
To the land of dizziness her head was sent.

Into a mine car the slide plopped her out;
All the while she would scream and shout,
She landed abruptly in a mine car, as I said;
The landing was not like a soft comfy bed.

With a sore bottom, she held on for dear life,
For not only around her were flames and heat rife,
But to her fright, the mine car started to move!
It started slowly, but soon did it prove,

To be quite the speedy little demon,
Leaving Sally to keep on screamin',
For not only was this a roller-coaster ride,
But on each her left and right side,

Were flames leaping high, like I said,
With blinding light, yellow and red!
They were even behind her and in front;
Avoiding them would prove quite a stunt.

'OK, OK, calm down Sally, keep in together,'
Sally consoled herself, despite the hot weather--
Not that I could hear anything she said,
But lip-read did I, and figured it out in my head.

Uh, um, uh... ok, ok... what to look for...
This thing must have something in store,
Something to control this rapid pace,
Something like breaks to save my worried face;

Um, uh, oh, looky here!
Is this thingy meant to steer?
No, it's the breaks, it is, of course!
So I'll pull it, like the reigns of a horse.'

So she pulled on that lever of a machanism,
Thereby avoiding any precarious schism,
Any schism, that is, of her mine car running wild,
That would tear it assunder and cause it to be defiled.

She pulled on the lever--that is, the breaks--
Anytime when suddenly--for Heaven's sakes--
Flames would blaze and rage before her,
The harsh burns she would almost incur;

Or if she'd all of a sudden,
Find herself a-plumittin',
Down a terrifying decline--
Quite clever, like Einstein.

In fact, after a while,
On her face appeared a smile;
For the fear began to subside,
As it became a fun ride.

So Sally slowed down and sped up,
Holding tight like in giant tea cup;
She veered left and she veered right,
While at the same time, holding on tight.

Right before the end of this bumpy ride,
She saw that she was about to collide,
Into a wall at the end of the tracks--
It just ended, stopped--who could relax?

She had too much momentum to stop in time,
And this thing didn't exactly stop on a dime,
'Yikes!!!' she yelled and at least tried,
To apply the breaks as she continued to slide.

But all that did was make the wheels squeel,
A deafening sound that made her skin peel,
And caused a burning smell to fill the air,
As smoke spewed out from the wheels down there.

And right when she was within arms reach,
Of the wall, she let out a blasting screach--
She screamed at the top of each lung,
And then crashed so hard that she was flung.

She was flung from the car, that is,
And it wouldn't take a physics whiz,
To figure out that the force of the impact,
Would crush poor Sally, like a potatoe sack,

Hitting one at a thousand miles and hour,
Or being crushed by a great falling tower;
But this wasn't what happened--not at all,
For precisely on that spot on the wall,

Where Sally would have hit her head,
Was a hole that saved her from being dead;
It was just her size too--lucky girl--
And so even though the car did hurl,

Sally, like a humongous spit ball,
Sally didn't get hurt at all;
Instead, she landed onto a slide,
And went for another wild ride,

She slid in circles, 'round and 'round,
Down a dizzy spiral, no end to be found;
But finally, there was an end, of course,
One which hit her without as much force,

As the wall she hit just previously,
The wall that snuck up so deviously,
And threw her through the hole,
And caused her to tumble and roll,

Down the spiral slide slick,
Making her dizzy and almost sick,
Until she landed on something soft--
What an adventure--like Lara Croft!

She landed on an old dirty pillow,
It felt soft like a pussy willow,
And although her bum felt a bit sore,
It could have hurt a whole lot more,

If she landed on something hard,
But that wasn't played, not that card,
Instead she was dealt a different hand,
One that promised a very easy land.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Posts: 8773
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Location: in your mom

Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sat Jun 27, 2015 6:28 am

'Huh? Vat's zat? Who?... Oh, guten Tag!'
Said a stout and obese old hag,
'Nice of you to drop in, ja--
To 'drop in'! Get it? Ha! Ha! Ha!'

Sally rubbed her disoriented eyes,
And after, they took her by surprise,
For what she saw opened them wide,
And now I will tell what she spied:

The first thing she saw was the old hag,
A stout and obese woman, with many-a-rag,
Covering her all over, head to foot,
And like Sally, covered in soot.

Not only was she covered in dirty rags,
But cardboard cut outs and plastic bags,
They had emblems, logos, and familiar signs,
Colored Blue, yellow, and red like aged wines.

There were even pictures that looked fun,
Pictures like Tony the Tiger for one,
Obviously cut out of the side of a cereal box,
Hanging from her waist by a belt made of socks.

That's right--about three or four of them--
Each one, at the end, sown with a hem--
And cut outs from cardboard boxes hung,
From the sock-made belt to which they clung.

And it looked as if she wore goggles,
Made from dirty cups--the mind it boggles!--
For one was broken--it had a crack,
And the other was pink--it was so wack!

For a shirt, she wore a garbage bag,
So loose, beneath her belly it would sag,
And on her feet she wore tissue paper boxes,
Not what you'd expect--namely, a pair of soxes.

Not exactly the the most trendy fashions--
At least, not what'd sway an Earthling's passions--
'But perhaps,' Sally thought, 'that's just the culture,
Here on... uh, where am I again?... I'm not sure.'

'Velcome to Uranus,' continued the old hag,
'Ze most beautiful planet--I don't mean to brag--
For ve host ze most beautiful junk zat does exist--
At least in zis solar system, if you catch my gist.

For I can tell--you're not from around here--
You don't dress like us judging by your veneer--
But please, make yourself comfortable,
Explore our home into which you did stumble.'

Sally, at first, didn't know what to say,
But that was fine, it was okay,
For she simply followed the old hag's advice,
And explored her surroundings, trying to be precise,

Precise, that is, in observing all the details;
There were many to be reported in her portrayals--
For example, she looked around and saw this:
A great ball of fire--that, she couldn't miss.

It was huge, right before her,
It was blinding--she could only see a blur--
But it was definitely hot, that she could feel,
For the sweat on her face was certainly real.

And surrounding this great ball of fire,
Was a rail that circled it like a tire;
It prevented anyone who got near it,
From falling in like into an infernal pit.

Plenty of people did Sally see,
Some near the rail, at least three,
Who were taking notes, as if doing a test,
Like scientists working at their best.

Some were even using instruments--
That is, tools for making measurements--
Some held them up as simple detectors,
Others just pointed, like mathematical vectors:

That is to say, they pointed to the flame,
Like an arrow focused with its aim,
But without touching it and getting singed,
In reaction to which they would have cringed.

The old hag said: 'You see my people, darling?
Zey're hard at vork on ze flames snarling,
For you see, darling, how zey hussle,
Und also, darling, how zey bustle.'

Sally couldn't deny it--it was true--
For it was a busy place with a busy crew;
Everyone working hard and moving about,
On some important project, no doubt.

It was funny--Sally thought--
For when she looked around the lot,
She saw they were all wearing garbage,
Whether cardboard boxes or bags of porridge,

Old beaten scraps of rusty metal,
Or dirt rags that, on the skin, itch and nettle,
Garbage was obviously the latest fashion,
Which the locals wore like a trendy passion.

'But I forgot to introduce myself--how rude--
My name is Gurtrude,' continued Gurtrude,
'You are most fortunate to have dropped in,'
Gurtrude held in her laughter, with only a grin,

'Sorry, darling... to have--dropped--in,
At zis very moment, for ve are about to vin,
Zis race ve are in, zis race against Neptune,
For soon zey vill be singing a different tune,

Neptune, zat is, for ve are only avaiting,
Ze results of our final tests, and stop debating--
About vezer or not zis vill vork, our plan:
Zat by tomorrow morning, ve vill have outran,

Uranus, our competition, and left zem in our dust,
Even if zat means cheating--for cheat ve must!
For zey on Neptune do it too, of course,
Zey cheat wizout hesitation or remorse.

So vat else are ve supposed to do,
If ve are to vin zis race--is it not true?
Ve must tap in to our most abundant energy source:
Ze core at ze center of Neptune, of course!

For zat is exactly vere you are, darling,
You are at Neptune's core, little starling.
Vere it is hot und on fire, don't you see,
Wiz zis great flaming ball before you und me.

Zis great ball of fire, my dear,
Is ze key to our dilemma, it is clear.
Ve vill tap into it, its energy ve'll harness,
Use it as a booster rocket to gain farness--

Farness, darling, beyond Uranus, zat is,
Und take ze lead in zis racing bizz;
Ve have only to avait, as I said,
Ze test results, and put zis to bed.

Vonce zey are in, ve vill have ze cure--
As zey vill prove positive, I am sure--
Ze cure to all our losing woes,
And fly by Uranus like ze crows!'

'Ze results, mine kapitan!' a voice interrupted,
'Zey are absolutely, positively, 100% uncorrupted,
For ve ran ze test srough anozer test--
A test-result-corruption test--at your behest.'

'Sank you, herr Otto,' Gurtrude replied,
And upon reading the results, almost cried--
'I'm sorry darling,' she apologized,
'I am overvelmed, but not surprised,

For ze results prove positive,
Und zat is acting causitive--
Zat is, zey are causing me to cry,
Out of joy--need I explain vy?

But of course not--you understand--
Und besides, time for action is at hand!'--
'HETZEEEN!!!' Gurtrude bellowed out, giving Sally a jolt,
Which meant, in German: Get to work, you dolt!

Everyone responded like an organized team,
And like a busy locamotive blowing off steam,
Each one ran into his and her position,
So smoothly, there was not one collision.

They each strapped themselves to the wall--
Literally! They did! With a seat belt and all--
Each one leaned up against a vertical mattress,
And buckled themselves up to avoid duress;

That's right--a mattress, a bed--
Not flat but standing upright instead--
For what would soften the blow,
Better than a mattress-to-go?

What would cushion the impact,
Of what was undubitably a fact,
That Uranus was about to accelarate,
At an incredible and unprecedent rate,

Than a soft mattress, a comfy bed,
With which to rest one's weary head,
Plus, of course, a seat belt to boot,
For safety reasons, not just a hoot.

'I suggest, darling,' Gurtrude suggested,
'That in zat bed zere you vill have invested,
By ze time we complete our operation--
In ozer vords: get to your station!'

Sally promptly looked where Gurtrude pointed,
Where she saw a mattress, and as if anointed,
There was a sign right above it with her name--
Literally--it said 'Sally'--was this a game?

But no matter--she knew what to do:
She made her way through the chaotic zoo,
To her station, her cushiony mattress,
And did it without panicking, without distress.

She buckled herself up, like a bug in a rug,
And laid back against the mattress all snug,
All she had to do now was watch and wait,
While everyone buckled in at a speedy rate.

As soon as Gurtrude saw everyone in position,
Strapped to her own mattress like a cushion,
She raised what looked like a remote control,
Or a garage door clicker which she stole--

Or, no doubt, found in a pile of junk,
And after cleaning out the smell of skunk,
And getting rid of all the grit,
Made it work--tweaking it a bit,

To suit her purpose, that is to say,
That purpose being, on this very day,
To turn on this humongous, gigantic fan,
That towered above each woman and man;

It was at least as big as a house,
Not at all small like a mouse,
And it loomed above them, like I said,
About twenty feet above Sally's head.

Gurtrude pushed a button on the control,
And right away the fan started to roll;
In place, of course, but it started to spin,
And created a breeze cool to the skin.

It sped up, spun faster, accelerated,
And just as Sally anticipated,
This created a blazing trail,
A stream of fire beyond the rail,

It blew the flames, that is, like a brush,
Combing through hair long and beautifully lush,
Such that it created a trail long and flowing,
Of fire from that blazing ball brightly glowing.

The flames blew down a tunnel, long and dark,
A tunnel suddenly lit up like a spark,
The end of which Sally could not make out,
Despite the light that now shone all about.

'Release ze secret veapon!' Gurtrude announced,
As her echo, off the walls, bounced,
Two mattresses down on Sally's right,
A man held a stick of dynamite.

Obeying Gurtrude's resounding command,
He lit the stick held in his hand,
And after counting to three,
He threw the stick, flying free.

It flew right into the burning flame--
For the man had pretty good aim--
At about the same time that it burst;
The explosion was loud but it wasn't the worst,

That Sally ever did witness,
But this was still pretty serious business,
For this eruption of heat and fire,
Would have singed the room entire,

If it weren't for that wonderous fan,
Blowing the flame as best it can,
Away from all the frightened faces,
Saving them all, even their shoe laces.

It blew the flames down that dark tunnel,
Like a booster rocket's exhaust funnel,
Like a turbo engine egniting its fire,
The blasting flames launching it higher.

In fact, this is exactly what it felt like,
To Sally, strapped there like a locked bike--
She was pressed up against the seat belt--
The inertia pushed her forward, or so it felt.

But only one thing could this mean:
This rocket blazing red, yellow, and green,
Was propelling Uranus at an accelerated pace,
Obviously to give them a leg up in this race.

They were moving faster, in other words,
Faster, much faster, than the birds,
For as Gurtrude said, and as Sally understood,
They were in a race, and did everything they could,

To win, to go faster, that is to say,
For Sally realized amidst all the fray,
The reason for this whole operation,
Why everyone got into their station;

She now understood that this whole affair,
Had but one purpose, had but one sole care:
That Uranus must win the race at any cost,
In order to say that they had not lost.

It was brilliant! It was sheer genius!--
For to go even faster than Venus,
By transforming the core into a rocket,
Would guarantee the win in their pocket.

'In exactly 10 point 4 minutes, darling,'
Gurtrude explained sounding not so yarling,
"Ve vill overtake Neptune,
Very soon, darling, very soon.

For zat's about ze time,
Since zey committed zeir crime,
Of pulling ahead--by cheating--
And zerefore began beating,

Us und our planet--it's true!--
For I don't know if you knew,
But zey cut into our lane,
For it was zeir wish to wane,

Ze distance zey had to travel,
And now zat zis story I unravel,
I realize it vas 10 minutes ago,
Ven here you landed--is it not so?

About ze same time, in ozer vords,
Ven Neptune passed us like ze birds...
Hmm... darling, do you recollect,
If upon your memory you reflect,

Vere you came from?
Before landing on your bum?
Zat is, landing here on our soil,
As your pants it did spoil?'

Sally thought for a moment,
And in her mind, tried to cement,
Her thoughts and memories,
Which really wasn't a breeze.

'You know,' Sally finally said,
'No memories come to my head,
Of how I got here or why,
For as hard as I try,

All I can remember,
On this day in November,
Is being aboard our ship--
Going on a space trip--

With my two good friends--
Friends to our bitter ends--
And then suddenly--BAM!!!
Into something hard we did slam,

Or so it must have been,
For you should have seen,
What happened next--
You would have been vexed!:

I was jarred, shaken up and launched--
My fate was definitely staunched--
I was thrown through empty space,
And landed on Uranus, this very place.

But you don't suppose, do you,
That...' Sally inhaled, 'You do!--
That it was Neptune that we hit?
That's what you suspect, isn't it?!'

'Yes, darling, how quick you are;
From Neptune, that brightly glowing star,
I did surmise you vere from,
But that you crashed... well, um...'

'Yes,' said Sally interjecting,
'For what were you expecting?
That I jumped on a trampoline?
Of course not, you silly bean,

We must have crashed there,
We should have taken more care,
But then again, how could we help it,
If Neptune stepped out of orbit?

So we crashed into Neptune,
Like dust into a broom,
And thus I was thrown,
Towards this planet, your own.'

'Hmm, you seem quite clever,
Und I vonder vezer,
Your companions know,
Vere you did go.'
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
resident exorcist
Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
Location: in your mom

Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Dec 13, 2015 9:49 pm

'Well, of course we know,
I know exactly where you did go,'
I exclaimed puzzling the others,
My brothers from other mothers;

For I forgot they couldn't see;
Even if they could, it was only me,
Who could lip read after all,
So I told a tail that wasn't tall--

That is, I explained, before they inquired,
What, on Uranus, had just transpired--
The important bit being, of course,
That Sally, like a galloping horse,

Was fast approaching--very fast--
And would soon drive passed;
'If we don't act now,' I warned,
'This opportunity will be forlorned--

This opportunity to reunite, that is,
With our friend, the engineering whiz.
In exactly 9 minutes, When they fly by,
We must somehow, in some way, try,

Wearing our best thinking cap,
To jump across the spacious gap,
Between Neptune and Uranus,
When the distance between us,

Is at a minimum, at its smallest,
Definitely not at its tallest,
For precisely then--only then--
Is exactly and absolutely when,

This plan, whatever it may be,
Will work best, I'm sure you see.
But we need to work fast,
For our time will not last.'

It was clear what we had to do:
A plan had to hatch out of the blue,
So we put away the parascope,
For it offered no hope,

And focused on our thoughts,
Thinking logically, like robots.
Bill was a little reluctant, actually,
For he was against the idea, naturally,

Of counting on Uranus passing us by,
For then Uranus would win--which is why,
He had to remind himself,
To put his concerns on the shelf,

And remember what comes first:
Friendship does, for it's the worst,
When over friendship, winning you choose,
For then you most certainly lose.

So Bill put aside his aim,
Of beating Uranus in this game,
In order to help his new friends,
To meet up with Sally and make amends.

Meanwhile, back on Uranus,
A plan most cunning and perilous,
Was being hatch by the two:
Gurtrude and Sally--that's who.

'You gotta help me,' Sally pleaded--
Gurtrude could tell that help she needed,
'You gotta help me get back,' she repeated,
'To Neptune with which you have competed.'

'So, darling,' Gurtrude responded,
'You vant to, vonce again, be bonded,
Viz your friends up zere on Neptune,
Vell, I sink ve can arrange somessing soon,

It vould have to be soon--
For unless you are a baboon,
You vould know zat time is short--
8 minutes exactly, or so I report.

Lucky for you, darling, ve have just ze sing:
Ve have a contraption made wiz ze latest bling--
A device made by our leading experts,
Or so our top engineer asserts.

HERR GUSTAV!!!' Gurtrude belowed out,
Gustav appeared as she ceased to shout,
'Javol mein kapitan,' he replied,
Standing with arms straight at each side,

'Bring out ze heat resistant space pod,'
He saluted and acknowledged with a nod;
'Don't vorry, darling, your in good hands,'
Gurtrude reassured Sally, 'For in all ze lands,

Gustav is ze best inventor, our top engineer,
Und he has somessing just for you, my dear,
Somessing which vill get you back,
To your friends, whom you currently lack.'

'Oh, thank you so much, Gurtrude,'
Sally expressed her gratitude,
'If you can get me back to my friends,
The debt I'd owe you would know no ends.'

'Sink nossing of it, darling,' Gurtrude replied,
When Gustav returned from where he did hide;
He pushed before him the oddest contraption,
Sally looked at it and had the oddest reaction--

For it looked like a bathtub on wheels,
To push it, Gustav dug in his heals,
For it wasn't only a tub he pushed,
But a tank that would have smushed,

Anyone over which it rolled,
If it were to lose its hold,
On the tub to which it was hooked,
For it was that heavy, or so it looked;

It wasn't obvious what filled the tank,
It just stood up right and was banked,
At the end of the tub, on the outer side,
Almost as big as the tub, and just as wide.

The whole thing looked like an L,
With something that looked like a bell,
Jutting out from the top of the tank--
Deep into it, Sally's focus sank--

It didn't take long for her to figure out,
What the object was that spouted out,
From the top of the tank, like a bell flower--
Of course, it was the head of a shower--

And that must mean, Sally reckoned,
After thinking for another second,
That the tank must be filled,
With water--was it chilled?

'Zat,' Gurtrude continued, 'Is your vessel,
Your escape pod into vich you'll nestle,
You need but get in und sit down,
Und from above your pretty crown,

A shower of cold vater will poor--
BE FORVARNED!!!: it vill chill you to ze core--
But zis is important, darling, trust me,
For it must freeze if it is to be,

Zat vich counteracts ze blazing heat,
Vich ve feel from our heads to our feet--
Ze heat eminating from zat ball of fire,
Ze one whose flames reach ever higher--

For vat ve must do, darling, is zis:
Ve must aim carefully so as not to miss,
Ve must aim for zat flaming core,
Und throw you in--need I say more?

Of course I do, for I'm not done,
Explaining to you all zis fun:
Ve vill srow you into ze flames zere,
And so zat ve don't set ablaze your hair,

You vill turn on ze shower und cover you,
Head to foot in vater ice cold und blue;
For only by freezing you to shivers,
Vill you survive, zough you'll get ze quivers.

So you see, darling, how zis vorks:
Ve srow you into ze fire, but zere are perks:
You get ze comfort of ice cold vater,
Vich balances, like a son to a daughter,

ze heat from ze flames, of course,
Und zese extremes vill enforce,
A comfortable middle ground,
For vich you vill be bound--

So you vill be fine,
Young darling of mine,
You vill be comfortable,
Neizer hot nor cold, but stable--

Zat is, in an equilibrium state,
For zat vill be your fate--
Keep ze vater flowing,
Und all you'll be knowing,

Are room tempurature sensations,
From ze vaters pooring like libations,'
Gurtrude concluded with Sally nodding,
For she understood with some mental plodding.

'Now, darling, you'd better get in,'
Continued Gurtrude, 'For time is thin;
You have but only a few minutes more,
Before ve srow you into ze core.

So get in ze escape pod zere,
Sit your bum down like in a chair,
Hold on tight and get comfortable,
Get going, darling, on ze double.'

Sally knew this was her only chance,
So she didn't dilly-dally or prance,
She got in the tub and sat down,
Held on tight, ready to skip town.

Then four burly men picked her up,
Like lifting an over-sized cup,
'On ze count of sree,' said Gurtrude,
'Ve vill launch zis contraption crude,

Into ze fire, zat blazing ball of heat,
Und you vill be in it, darling sweet,
So you better be prepared,
You better not be scared.

Just remember to pull zat chain,
Ze one hanging beside your brain;
It vill release ze vater, dear,
Chilling your left and right ear,

It vill chill every inch of you,
From your head to your right shoe,
Vich is vy no sooner zan sree--
Not two, not von, you see--

But only ven to sree ve have counted,
Must you pull ze chain zat is mounted,
On ze shower head right above you--
Only zen vill it take only a second or two--

Not four or five--to endure ze cold,
So be prepared, my darling, be bold.'
Sally listened with focused intent,
And before she knew it, the men went:

'EINS!' forward they swung the bath,
'ZWEI!' now swinging it on a backward path,
'DREI!' swinging it forward straight ahead,
They let it go as Sally pulled the thread.

Out poored the ice cold water,
'YIKES!!!' she screamed, wishing it was hotter;
But she was off, flying through the air,
And after only a second, she was there,

Plunged into the inferno red hot,
'Aaah,' she sighed, for cold she was not--
Not any longer, no way, no sirree,
She was now at a comfortable degree--

20 degrees celcius to be precise,
For Gurtrude was right, which was nice:
The hot and the cold cancelled out;
Of that, Sally had no doubt.

But as soon as comfortable she got,
She was thrown back--and why not?
The forces of this make-shift engine,
Took hold and again she was plungin'.

She was pushed ahead, that is--
By the rocket whose nature 'tis,
To blast anything in its path,
With all the furry of its wrath,

Out of the back end of Uranus,
Kind of like someone's $&%#&--
She was spat out fast from the flames,
At Neptune, her pod hopefully had its aims.

After being spat out of the fire,
Sally's comfort began to expire,
Space was getting cold, she did realize,
Turned off the water, and dried her eyes.

And after drying them, opened them and saw,
Something that put her in absolute awe,
It was a gigantic, bright, and deeply blue,
Great big ball about the size of Peru--

No, it was bigger--the size of Earth--
No, not even that--for what it's worth,
It was the size of Earth times four,
It threw her to the bathtub floor!

It must have been Neptune!
All over was it strewn--
All over her visual field,
It was all she saw, eyes peeled.

It was just that close--
Enough to give her an overdose,
Of wonder and awe at the sight,
For the timing must have been right,

Gurtrude did say, after all,
That waiting was a bad call,
Less than 2 minutes, Gurtrude did warn--
Or at least, Sally could have sworn--

Before time left her,
For it passed by in a blur,
The 2 minutes she had remaining,
Before Neptune started waning,

For at the time Sally was spat out,
Neptune was roughly about,
The closest it was going to get,
To Uranus passing by like a jet.

That's why it was so big,
So huge like a plump pig;
Uranus had just passed it by,
Exactly when, out of Uranus, she did fly.

And so gravity did pull,
On the tub and tank so full,
And the vessel in which Sally flew,
Towards Neptune big and blue.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Dec 20, 2015 6:19 am

Meanwhile, on that very planet,
At the moment when Uranus outran it,
Hubert and Sir Martian were jumping,
On a trampoline were their feet thumping.

For it was Bill's suggestion,
That they forge a connection,
To Uranus when it passed by,
By jumping really, really high.

But they couldn't do that,
With feet on the ground flat,
For their legs weren't that strong,
Nor were they exceptionally long.

A trampoline was the way to go,
Bill decided, and he should know,
For it was the primary means,
For Neptunian men, women, and teens,

To travel amongst the stars--
It sure beat traveling in cars--
For cars can't even get off the ground;
But with trampolines, there is no bound.

Of course, one couldn't do it alone,
One needed something extra to be thrown,
Into the air and then interstellar space,
Something that would double the pace,

At which the jumper soared,
And this could not be ignored.
The Neptunians call this something,
A "bouncer"--it had a since ring--

A "double-bouncer" to be exact,
For it was an undeniable fact,
That in order to soar extra high,
Double bouncing was key, which is why,

Bill volunteered--he'd double-bounce them--
He'd be from whom their height would stem;
How does double-bouncing work, you ask?
Well, it's a difficult and intricate task.

First, you must find a trampoline--
A feat that's not at all mean--
Then you must get on and bounce,
Gravity, it is you goal to trounce.

Repeat two times, three, or four,
High above the ground you will soar;
The double-bounce comes next--
Nothing over which to get perplexed.

All you need is a buddy, a friend,
Someone with a pair of feet to lend,
For you will need those extra feet,
To get this double-bouncing trick beat.

And what does your friend need to do?
Listen closely, I'll give you a clue:
Both pairs of feet must make contact--
Your own and your friend's to be exact--

With the trampoline surface--both at once--
For timing is key in these kinds of stunts;
You must both land at the same time,
And then twice as high will you climb.

That's a double-bounce for ya--
Just repeat the following mantra:
Two jumpers and four feet,
Landing at once can't be beat.

So Bill, as I said, was our guy,
He'd double-bounce Sir Martian and I,
For only with his help on our side,
Would we cross the inter-planetary divide.

'Quickly, quickly,' Bill urged us on,
'This window of time won't last long,
For Uranus is just passing by now,
We must reach escape velocity, and how!'

'Geez Bill,' Sir Martian did protest,
'Enough with the pressure, unless you jest.'
'It's no jest,' Bill assured, 'I'm serious,
For it'll certainly make you delirious,

If you were to miss this opportunity,
Due to not reaching escape velocity.'
Sir Martian turned to me and said,
'What's escape velocity?' turning beat red.

'Escape velocity,' I began to explain,
'Is a concept that's simple and plain;
You see, to soar through the astral sky,
It's not enough to jump extra high,

But we must jump extra fast too,
For without speed--it is true--
Gravity will pull you back down,
Before you get far, before you skip town,

So you must soar up at a fast enough rate,
Fast enough to crash through gravity's gate--
Too slow and those gates will crash you--
But soar fast enough and you'll break through:

Jump fast enough, and we'll jump high enough,
So high that, way up there, gravity isn't tough--
That is to say, high above the stratosphere,
Where gravity is weak, though it sounds queer,

But it's true: gravity gets weaker,
The higher up you go, the meeker,
Its hold you on becomes, my friend,
Which is why our speed we must extend.'

'Less talk, more jumping,' reminded Bill,
'Hubert's right but we have a goal to fulfill;
You're almost there--at escape velocity--
But to slow down now would be an atrocity!'

'How many more jumps, Bill,' I inquired,
Bill looked at his contraption, looking mired,
'Well,' he finally said, 'Judging by my readings,
3 more jumps before you pay Uranus your greetings.'

So three more jumps it was then,
For after the third jump was when,
Bill would leap onto the trampoline,
Becoming a lean, mean, double-bouncing machine.

We counted: 'One!' Sir Martian yelped first,
As his feet hit down with a burst,
(We were jumping in tandem, of course--
Double-bouncing each other: an extra energy source).

'Two!' I shouted, taking my turn,
Feeling in my legs the painful burn,
From exercising every muscle therein--
Trying to jump faster, through thick or thin.

We soared up high, and came down low;
Bill got ready to double-bounce us so,
And half a second before we landed,
He leaped onto the trampoline single handed.

'Three!' he exclaimed a bit nervously,
Landing with sir Martian and I simultaneously--
That was the double-bounce which sent us,
Sir Martian and I, into space, a real plus,

For that was exactly what we needed,
That extra oomph to which gravity conceded;
It sent us soaring way beyond escape velocity,
Especially once in space, which has no viscosity.

So there we were, Sir Martian and I,
Flying through the cosmos, the astral sky,
On our way to Uranus, still within reach:
It looked like this trip would be a peach.

But all of a sudden, to my surprise,
I saw something and rubbed my eyes,
For I wanted to be absolutely sure,
It wasn't a dust particle causing a blur,

Something in my eye, that is to say,
For I swear there was something far away,
Some entity approaching us fast,
And once I recognized it, I asked:

'Sir Martian, my eyes may deceive me,
But I swear that ahead by 30 feet plus 33,
Is our good friend Sally, is it not?
And is that a tub in which she is caught?'

Verily it was, for there was no need,
For Sir Martian to reply--no need indeed--
For Sally came into view, clear as day,
As quickly as the travels of a sun ray.

'Oh, hi Hubert!' she shouted with glee,
'Why, hello Sally,' I said on behalf of me,
'And you too, Sir Martian,' Sally continued,
'Greetings,' replied Sir Martian, not to be rude.

And as quickly as we met, we departed,
And it wasn't because anyone farted,
But because of Newton's first law,
That anyone travelling suffers this flaw:

When in the void of space,
If you're moving at some pace,
You can't just stop on a dime,
You must keep moving through spacetime.

And that's what Sally did,
As she passed through the mid--
That is, the middle, the in-between,
She passed between us, slick and clean.

'Bye Hubert,' she said while passing by,
'Bye' I said as a knee-jerk reply,
'See ya,' Sir Martian said with sorrow,
Hoping, perhaps, to see her tomorrow.

And again, into the distance,
Without any air resistance,
Sally continued on her way,
To be seen again some other day.

Same went for Sir Martian and I--
For again, Newton's 1st law did apply:
That is, unless something stops you,
Then no matter what you say or do,

You'll just keep on a-speedin',
You'll just keep on proceedin',
In the same ol' direction,
That, upon a bit of reflection,

You'll remember having traveled,
The one on which your trip unraveled,
So while Sally was Neptune-bound,
We headed for Uranus blue and round.

We streamed down to the soil below,
Like a meteor with a bright glow,
Towards the debris and the junk,
Smelling something awful like skunk.

But did we land in a junk pile?
No, we didn't! Not by a mile!
Instead, we fell through a trap door,
Which meant we fell for a bit more,

We eventually landed on a slide,
Like the one that saved Sally's hide,
Round and round and round we went,
Who knows where we'd be sent?

Well, I do--because I remember:
It's not like it was last November--
The memory's still pretty clear,
It's not like it fell out of my ear.

I remember that after the slide,
We went for another wild ride:
We flew a distance that wasn't far,
And landed in a dusty old mine car.

Then the car proceeded to move,
On some tracks like in a groove,
Down a decline we began to plummet,
Like from the top of a mountain summit,

On a roller-coaster ride were we,
And even though after falling free,
We were on an incline, climbing high,
Sir Martian couldn't help but cry.

Sally found herself plunging, meanwhile,
Plunging Several kilometers plus a mile,
Through the atmosphere of Neptune,
The ground she'd hit quite soon.

The impact was cushioned, lucky girl--
Though it still sent her head into a swirl--
For she crashed right through the trampoline,
Where Bill could still be seen.

She ripped a hole right through it,
It was destroyed and Bill knew it:
'MY TRAMPOLINE!!!' he exclaimed,

Sally pulled herself to her feet,
Though she felt like she hit concrete,
And tried her best to stabilize,
And ignore the stars before her eyes.

'What did you do?!' asked Bill,
And after managing to stand still,
Sally responded with the reply:
'Uh... I'm not sure. Did I just die?'

'I wouldn't say so, young woman,
Unless I'm dead too and still loomin',
But assuming that I'm still alive,
You must be too despite your recent arrive.'

Then, all of a sudden, Neptune sneezed,
In a snot bubble, Bill was ceased,
And just by the force, Sally was thrown,
Through space and, once again, was alone.

But not for long, certainly not forever,
For it was as though Neptune was clever,
As though the sneeze was not accidental,
As though Neptune planned a way so gentle,

For Sally to reunite with her friends,
For on getting to Uranus, that depends.
Not only did Neptune get the job done,
Not only was the ride a whole lotta fun,

But its sneezy aim was impeccable,
You might even say it was delectable,
For Sally shot straight for a trap door,
And crashed right through Uranus's floor.

She went spiraling, round and round,
Downward, downward she was bound,
Just like last time, Sally was on a slide,
Against something hard, hoping not to collide.

But a collision wasn't what occurred,
What happened was worse, even absurd,
The slide ended in the middle of nowhere,
She started free falling without a care.

She screamed a piercing scream,
She hoped this was just a dream,
Or at least that she'd land,
On something cushiony ready-at-hand.

But no, she didn't, not today,
Even harder than a bale of hey,
She landed on the floor of a mine car,
Which hurt her bottom and left a scar.

At the sudden impact of her butt,
Sir Martian and I exclaimed 'What?!'
That's right, it was the same car,
The one we'd been riding in so far.

Our duo was now a trio, it would seem,
We were together again, like a team,
But we were still in trouble, of course,
Still barreling down the track with force.

'Hubert? Sir Martian?' Sally did question,
'Sally?' said Sir Martian with inflection,
'Sally, is that you?' I said in doubt,
'Is it really, really you?' is what came out?

'What? Huh?' Sally replied a bit shocked,
Still trying to resist being rocked,
'Uh, er, sure it's me, I think,'
Clearing her vision with a blink.

Well, as surprising as this was--
For us to be reunited just 'cause--
I knew this was not the time,
To catch up over a juice with lime,

We were in the midst, I thought,
of a crisis in which we were caught,
So I had to focus on the track ahead,
To make sure we didn't become dead.

'Sir Martian,' I shouted out loud,
'What?' he replied as ahead we plowed,
'Come up here and take the break--
Watch it on the curves, for goodness sake,

Or we'll fly right off the track!'
'OK' he said, picking up the slack,
But as soon as we switched places,
I noticed on both their faces,

The look of fear, of what-to-do,
For ahead of us was, it is true,
A fork in the road, a split;
Upon indecision, we could not sit.

So I made a decision: we'd go right,
As we neared the switch, with all my might,
I gave it a good wack, and it switched,
The track ahead onto which we were hitched,

'Short cut,' I announced,
The utterance onto which pounced,
Sir Martian with the following objection:
'Left Hubert!' pointing in that direction,

'Short cut...for goodness sake,'
'Big mistake, Hubert, big mistake,'
Warned Sir Martian for whatever reason--
Be it the stress or maybe the season--

But it turned out he was right,
For it gave us an awful fright,
To see the obstacle up ahead,
On the track I chose instead,

Of Sir Martian's suggestion,
Which was a totally other direction,
For ahead of us was a wall--
No way to avoid it at all--

The track ahead just ended,
No turns around which it bended,
On the breaks, Sir Martian applied,
And so I had to say he at least tried,

But the break came loose in his hand,
Which was not exactly what we had planned,
'Oh oh, big mistake, Hubert,' he pointed out,
'That I can stop us now, I seriously doubt.'

Well, there was only one thing to do,
One thing I could think of, it's true:
I had to climb out the front end,
My whole self, I had to extent,

I had to hang from the front--
It was, I admit, quite the stunt--
So that, on the wheel, I could put,
With great pressure, my left foot.

I pressed my foot, that is to say,
Against the wheel, and I did pray,
That the pressure would slow the wheel,
Though it certainly caused my heel,

To start smoking from the heat,
But the burning pain I had to beat,
For it would be a lot more pain,
If our speed continued to wane,

That is, if I couldn't stop us,
And we crashed like a speeding bus,
So the burning pain, I had to endure,
On behalf of us all, for sure.

'Hubert! Get back in, get back in!'
Sally urged gripping my skin,
Trying to pull as hard as she could,
Pulling me in as well she should.

'No, Sally, I must apply the breaks,
Otherwise we'll crash for goodness sakes,'
I insisted with stubborn conviction,
Our bone crushing demise being my prediction.

'No, Hubert, trust me, we won't!
Unless you stay there, but please don't!
Climb back in and we won't get hurt,
Here, let me pull you by the shirt.'

'But Sally, no,' I insisted,
But Sally, with her tug, persisted,
And I was pulled back into the car,
Just in time, the wall wasn't very far.

We slammed into the wall,
Like a bat to a baseball,
And just like last time,
When Sally stopped on a dime,

We flew right through the hole,
The mine car taking a toll,
And just like the time before,
Another spirally slide was in store.

We went round, and round, and round,
Waiting for the spiral to be unwound--
That is, go straight, or at least end,
Instead of this and that twisty, windy bend.

The slide did come to an end eventually,
And we felt it in our bellies sensually,
For once again, we were in free fall,
Hopefully, the last wild ride, once and for all.

We landed on three old dirty pillows,
They felt soft like three pussy willows,
It coulda' hurt a whole lot more,
But still, our bums were sore.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
resident exorcist
Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sat May 28, 2016 1:52 am

'Ah, you have returned,' said Gurtrude,
'Just as I expected,' not minding being rude,
'Und your friends, I see you brought,
For zey are your friends, are zey not?'

'Uh, why, um, yes,' Sally said,
Trying to restore focus into her head,
'Yes, Gurtrude, yes, my friends are they,
Let me introduce them to you, if I may:

This is Hubert, dashing and smart;
This is Sir Martian--who works at Walmart.'
'It's true,' Sir Martian piped in,
Putting on a most fabulous grin,

'It's just a part time job,
Working for a guy named Rob,
Until I go back to school, that is,
Maybe learn to be a math whiz.'

'Vell, darling, ven you do,
Come vork for us, von't you?
Ve could alvays use a math vizz,
In zis here engineering bizz.

But now, darling, I expected you back,
But not quite so soon, in fact,
I expected you to get home first,
Drink a soda to quench your thirst,

Zen come back to return ze pod,
You vill return it, no?--if so, nod.'
Well, what else could Sally do?
She nodded, and made a promise true,

Right then and there, in her mind,
To return the pod, or else get fined.
'Now as I vas saying,' Gurtrude continued,
'And I don't mean to pry or be shrewd,

But vy are you back so soon?
Before ze next full moon?'
Sally sighed with a breath of despair--
If she had to explain, she'd lose her hair.

'Oh, it's a long story, Gurtrude,
Not that you were the least bit rude,
But I'd rather skip the pleasantries--
Not interested in shooting the breeze,

You see, we still need to get home--
Through space, we wish no longer to roam.'
'Vell, darling, if I had a pod,
This moment vouldn't feel so odd,

But I'm afraid ve'll have to vork out,
Somesing else, somesing clever, no doubt.'
Gurtrude was right, to be fair,
For an odd silence filled the air.

But then, suddenly, out of the blue,
They felt something stronger than glue,
They felt an impact that shook the ground,
And their ears deafened from the sound.

After regaining our balance,
Plus our standing talents,
Gurtrude noticed a change in inertia,
A change in momentum, enough to hurt ya.

'I get ze most peculiar feeling,
Zat wiz a collision, we are dealing.'
'A collision?' Sally exclaimed,
'With what? A poor bird now maimed?'

'Most likely no,' Gurtrude replied,
'Probably, with a planet, did we collide,'--
And then, Gurtrude's eyes opened wide,
For a revelation hit which she couldn't hide--

'But of course,' she said,
Her face turning beat red,
For she felt embarassed to say:
'Darlings, we goofed up today!

I mean, my crew and I;
It almost makes me cry,
Zat somesing ve missed,
And omitted from our list:

Ve Forgot to factor in,'
She said scratching her chin,
'Ze consequences of going faster,
Wiz our turbo-rocket flame blaster:

Ze consequences are two-fold--
First, ze Sun has less of a hold,
Ze Sun's gravity, zat is to say,
Vich means ve are going astray--

Ve are venturing out into space,
Because of our faster pace--
You see, darlings, ven ve speed up,
As ve did in order to vin ze cup,

Ve also pull avay from ze Sun,
Our orbit videns, vich can be fun,
But not on a day like today,
For zat only leads us astray.

For a risk not only do we run,
Of losing zis race around ze Sun,
But ve are bound to collide,
Wiz sings zat, in ze dark, hide--

Und zat brings me to ze second,
Of ze consequences I have reconed:
Namely zat judging by ze date--
If I recall, it is Vinter, quite late--

Pluto should be around ze spot,
Assuming I am mistaken not,
Zat ve are headed, or at least vere,
Before ve passed Neptune in a blur,

Und so, my darlings, you can see,
If you put togezer, sree and sree,
Zat vat ve must have collided into,
Vaz none ozer zan Pluto, or so I construe.'

'Pluto?' I exclaimed in alarm,
'Is it OK? Did we cause it any harm?'
'Unkown, Hubert, unkown,' Gurtrude replied,
'But one sing is for certain, I do confide:

Our course has now changed,
Our natural orbit is now estranged,
Ve are now heading in a new direction,
Und if I calculate our current trajection,

Ve should be heading in ze vissinity-- <sp?>
Out of ze vastness of all infinity--
Of zat planet ve all adore und love,
Ze one zat looms in ze Heavens above:

Saturn is vat I'm talking about,
For I need not scream und shout--
In but a few hours, ve vill be zere,
Or at least wizin ze breadz of a hair,

For if my calculations are correct,
If ze future I can accurately project,
Ve should come wizin five yards,
Of Saturn--if it's in our cards;

Zat is, of course, if ve stand atop--
Und don't fall making a belly flop--
Mount Really Hugely Humongously Big,
(Yes, zat's it's name--it ain't no twig).

If ve climb zat mountain, as I say,
Und stand at ze peek, ve just may,
Come wizin five yards of Saturn,
At least wizin zat beautiful pattern,

Ze pattern of its ring, zat is to say--
More beautiful zan ze light of day--
Ve vill come wizin only a few yards,
Of Saturn's ring--so be on your guards.'

'Wait just a minute!' Sir Martian insisted,
'Just so my confusion will not have persisted,
Let me make sure this is absolutely clear:
What you're saying, Gurtrude, my dear,

Is that within a few hours from now,
We will come within a five yard long cow,
(That's a really long cow, I know,
But bear with me, sisters and bro).

We will come within a very short range,
Of Saturn's ring--the outer edge--how strange--
But only if we stand atop--what was it again?
Mount Really Hugely Humongously Big?--and then,

And only then, will we be within,
Five yards of Saturn's ring, flat and thin--
Is this right? Isn't this what you said?
Can I please put my confusion to bed?'

'Well, hold on now, wait a minute,'
I put my own spin on it:
'Even if all that is true,
Even if by a quarter to two,

We make it to that mountain peek,
The mountain of which you speak,
Five yards is still quite high,
Such that no matter how hard we try,

We still wouldn't be able to reach,
Saturn's ring--the task is no peach--
For five yards is about as high,
As four people reaching for the sky,

By sitting on each other's shoulders,
Using their hands as ankle holders;
Then maybe, the guy at the top,
Assuming nobody did accidentally flop,

Could, if he stretched his arms up high,
Touch Saturn's golden ring by-and-by,'
'Yes, darling,' Gurtrude did reply
'Right you are--it is quite high--

Vhich is vy zat's exactly ze plan--
Zat is to say, Hubert, my good man,
Ze plan is exactly as you said:
Vich, if I understand it in my head,

Is zat, on zat mountain, I vill stand,
Und gripping each ankle wiz each hand--
Zat is, ze ankle of ze one above,
Vearing, of course, a rubber glove,

Maybe even two, von for each hand--
Und just to be sure ve understand,
Let me be clear zat a tower ve'll form,
Bum to shoulder, keeping our necks warm,

Except me, of course, who vill stand,
Vonce ve reach zat far away land,
Vere Mt. Really Hugely Humongously Big,
Resides at ze center--you dig?'

'Wait just a minute!' Sir Martian insisted,
'Just so my confusion will not have persisted,
Let me make sure this is absolutely clear:
What you're saying, Gurtrude, my dear,

Is that in order to get to Saturn,
About a million calories we must burn,
Trekking across the lands of Uranus,
A journey indeed most hienous,

And then about a million more,
Climbing 'til our legs are sore,
To reach the top of Mount Big,
Like climbing a mile high oil rig.

And then, if that wasn't enough,
We must burn some more colarie-stuff,
Climbing each other, that is to say,
And the burden of what we all weigh,

Must be carried by the one on the bottom,
Being careful not, like the leaves of Autum,
To drop us standing tall like a tree,
For that would hurt, wouldn't you agree?'

'Javol,' Gurtrude adamently agreed,
'It vould hurt very much indeed,
Und you have understood quite vell,
I'd even say you've understand it well,

Except for von part, my Martian friend:
Ve don't have to trek for hours on end,
For to be honest, I'm rather surprized,
Zat, at zis point, you haven't realized,

Zat ve here on zis vonderful planet,
Have a transit system that spans it--
Ze mine cars are vat I'm talking about,
Just in case you had any doubt.

It is efficient und vastly superior,
To zat of any ozer planet's interior,
For ve can get from point A to point B,
In a matter of two hours, maybe sree--

Even if point A is on zis side,
Und on ze ozer side does B hide,
But for our purposes at least--
Namely, getting to zat great beast,

Zat beast of a mountain, zat is to say--
It vill only take a 24th of a day--
Zat is, von hour, plus anozer for ze climb,
Und zat, my friends, is ze exact amount of time.'

'One hour to climb Mount Big?'
I challenged, 'That I don't dig,'
'Vell, darling,' Gurtrude felt the razz,
'It's ze biggest mountain Uranus has.'
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sun Nov 06, 2016 6:16 am

So we took about an hour,
To get to that great big tower,
That mountain a quarter the way,
Around Uranus, and without delay.

We took the nearest cart,
And got off to a rocky start,
Twisting around tight turns,
And feeling the singing burns,

From flames left and right,
And ahead in full sight,
Down steep declines,
Levitating our behinds,

Then up inclines steeper yet,
But this time we didn't fret,
For we had been through it before,
And Gurtrude was driving furthermore.

Soon a familiar sent filled our snouts,
It was that of garbage without any doubts,
And the light up ahead surely indicated,
That we would soon have evacuated,

These catacombs twisting and winding,
And quite hot, we were finding,
But we'd already feel the cool breeze,
Coming from ahead--it sure did please.

We finally emerged above ground,
Before us, Mount Big did abound,
The track ended right at its base,
And slowed to a halt at an easy pace,

'EXIT ZE CART!!!' Gurtrude loudly ordered,
And over the wall by which we were bordered,
The four of us lept, landing on solid ground,
For the force of the order certainly did resound.

'CLIMB!!!' Gurtrude belowed again,
And immediately was exactly when,
We all obeyed Gurtrude's order,
Like climbing a wall of brick and mortar.

'Here go my legs,' Sir Martian complained,
'SILENCE!!!' Gurtrude's command reigned,
For his life, Sir Martian obeyed,
For if in one spot he stayed,

He knew Gurtrude would not be pleased,
And so with fear he was suddenly seized,
So as to not get in trouble, therefore,
Sir Martian ascended the inclined floor.

'LEFT!' Gurtrude commanded with a scream,
And in lock step like a well trained team,
We all put our left feet forward,
For that's all it took, this one word.

'RIGHT!' she bellowed next,
And immediately we flexed,
Our right leg muscle,
Burning some fat and gristle.

All the way up, Grutrude repeated,
These orders to which we conceded,
Right then left, left then right,
Pretty soon we were out of sight.

High up on the mountain, I mean,
Where a wonderful view could be seen,
The landscape of Uranus, covered in junk,
Yet being so high up, no smell of skunk.

And if you looked up a few degrees,
High above the soothing breeze,
You could see a more awesome sight--
Might even give you an aweful fright.

Something huge barreling towards us,
Something over which to make a fuss;
It wasn't hard to make out what it was,
We knew it was Saturn because--

Well, because it looked like Saturn;
The impression in our minds it did burn,
There was no doubt about it,
It was Saturn, we couldn't doubt it.

Good thing we were near the top,
Thanks to Grurtrude who wouldn't stop,
For only a few minutes more,
Would Saturn be five yards from the floor.

That is, the tip of its ring,
For our escape would it bring,
Our escape from Uranus, that is,
And all this climbing bizz.

But we had to act fast,
For time would not last.
Gurtrude sped up her commands,
And we even started using our hands.

Her orders almost gave us a fright,
We climbed, climbed, and climbed some more,
We climbed until our legs were aching sore.

We climbed until we reached the top,
And even then we did not stop,
For then we had to climb each other,
We had to be linked--sister to brother;

That is, the time had come,
To position each bum,
Atop of a pair of shoulders,
A temporary set of bum holders.

'I vill go first,' Gurtrude said,
'Since Uranus is vere I keep my bed--
Zat is to say, it is vere I sleep,
Soundly, zat is, wizout a peep,

(Zough my husband says I'm quite loud,
Shouting orders as zough to a crowd,
But I don't believe zat,
I sink it's a lie so very fat.)

But zat's not ze point,
Ze point is I cannot leave zis joint,
Und so I must remain at ze base,
Und vonce you are gone, do an about face.

Zat is, I vill go back home,
For I do not vish to roam,
Here on zis mountain peek,
For leaving here is not vat I seek.'

'Oh, Gurtrude' Sally replied,
'If that's your wish, we shall abide,
But I must say that I've grown fond,
Of you--somehow--as if with a magic wand.

And as much as I wish,
To snatch you up like a fish,
I will respect your desire,
To stay grounded like a tire.'

'Zat is very sentimental, my dear,
But ze time for action is near,
So let's dispense wiz idle chit-chat,
Und form a tower erect like a top hat.'

And thus at a very fast pace,
Sally climbed Gurtrude at the base,
Followed by Sir Martian, third in line,
Then me, the top position being mine.

There we stood erect,
Like a rod which did project,
Out the top of Mount Big,
Like an extremely long twig.

It was my responsibility,
Being at the top, you see,
To somehow get us all aboard,
Saturn, when over us it soared.

How I would do it, I wasn't sure,
Probably just grab hold and endure,
The strain of being tugged--
At both ends, for I would have lugged,

The weight of the two people below,
Plus a tug from above, you know,
For even if I held on tight,
I'd still have to put up a fight,

To stay attached to Saturn's ring,
For at this rate, it would surely bring,
Tremendous inertia, a powerful force,
Which would yank me away, of course.

'Everyone ready?' I asked aloud,
'Ready!' Sir Martian said all proud,
'Me too!' Sally assured me,
'Though I kinda have to pee,'

'You should have thought of that before,'
I warned, 'for we don't have a lot more--
More time, that is, about 10 seconds,
Maybe even less, as I reckons,

So hold onto Sir Martian tight,
As he'll do to me, isn't that right?'
'Yes sir, indeed,' Sir Martian replied,
'For we're in for a bumpy ride,

That's why I'll grip with all my might,
Onto your legs, Hubert, like a bite,
And you do the same, Sally dear,
For hurting me you should not fear.'

'Okay, guys,' I gave them a prep,
'I'll count down as a last step:
Five... four... three...
Two... one... weeeee!!!'

I grabbed on to whatever I could,
I gripped on strong, as I should,
But the tug was more than I expected,
As though an extra person was connected:

Indeed, there was an extra person,
For Sally caused our load to worsen--
That is, to increase by a few pounds,
And I'd soon figure out why from the sounds:

'Vat is zis!? Vat are you doing!?'
Gurtrude bellowed in confusion stewing,
'I'm sorry, Gurtrude,' Sally said,
'But I couldn't get it out of my head--

This plan to not let you go,
For I've grown fond of you so,
So much that I want to bring you with us,
And to hope you don't make a fuss.'

'Vat?!?! Of course I make a fuss!
I didn't volunteer to ride zis bus!
You are taking me avay from my home,
For on Saturn I don't wish to roam!'

Amidst all their bickering,
And Sir Martian's snickering,
I was trying to make out,
Exactly what I smelt with my snout.

For I could certainly feel,
In my grip, something quite real,
I could have been mistaken,
But what I smelt wasn't bacon,

It smelt--and felt and looked--
Like my hands were hooked,
Onto a pair of ankles wearing socks--
It was that which smelt bad, like an ox,

But it was my eyes which saw the feet--
The evidence could not be beat--
And my hands felt them too,
But they also felt some kind of goo.

That is to say, slime of some sort,
For these feet obviously did consort,
With something quite disgusting,
Like a muddy swamp or mold festering.

It was probably for the best,
Therefore, that despite no behest,
It spared my sense of taste,
A sample of this smelly paste.

And though it spared my hearing as well,
There was a sound I couldn't quell,
A yelling I couldn't block out,
For a voice did scream and shout.

As if by a wild ride, one was ensared,
Someone who was terrified and scared,
The someone who was obviously,
Attached to these ankles, thusly.

What exactly were my hands doing,
Attached to a pair of ankles spewing,
A horrible stench and covered in slime?
Out of it, I couldn't make reason or rhyme.

I looked around a bit more,
In order to see what was in store,
For us and our new situation,
This new land, this new nation.

I looked around, as I said,
I looked all around, behind and ahead,
And as far as I could see,
Feet galore were all around me.

There were a pair of feet,
Which my eyes did meet,
When I looked to the left,
And as though my vision was cleft,

They were also there on the right,
Another pair of feet in my sight.
There were a pair up ahead,
And behind too... they were red.

If fact, there were feet even here:
The spot I looked when I did peer,
At a 45 degree angle,
Between left and ahead--what a spangle!

Needless to say, we were surrounded,
By sock wearing feet, we were bounded--
Obviously, they each had a body--
Unless they escaped their owners, being naughty--

But that wasn't the case,
They were all connected to a face,
Via legs, a torso, and a neck--
If they weren't, I'd say 'What the heck?!'

They all seemed to be screaming,
Most out of joy, or so seeming,
But the one I was anchored onto,
Seemed more like he wanted to,

Scream out of sheer terror,
As if, from a miscalculated error,
He had just landed out of the blue,
Into this seat, for I did construe,

And I certainly could not miss,
That what I saw was this:
A bunch of people in a bunch of seats,
Each one dangling their smelly feets.

For someone like me and my gang,
To grip onto and thereby hang.
The seats themselves were attached,
To a set of chains, for each one was latched,

To four chains exactly, one per corner,
Like tacs in an advert hung by a store owner,
It was almost like the Sun Flare ride,
At your local carnival, spinning wild and wide.

In fact, that's exactly what it looked like,
The Sun Flare ride, like the wheel of a bike,
For that's exactly what I found:
Saturn's ring spinning round and round,

Was exacly like--neay, it was--
A Sun Flare ride, just because,
Because, well, I don't know,
But it was obvious as I could see so.

It was certainly a marvel,
A giant space-borne carnival--
Saturn was--for we would soon find,
As soon as this ride did unwind,

That carnival rides litered the ground,
Covered Saturn for miles around,
The Sun Flare, which constituted its ring,
Was just one of millions Saturn did bring,

For there were roller coasters galore,
Ferris Wheels, Marry-Go-Rounds, and more,
Carny games and cotton candy,
Teddy bears big and dandy,

It's why, on this post card,
You'll find, if it's not marred,
The image of Sally and I,
Standing before a mile high,

Ferris Wheel with colors bright,
With smiles to express our delight,
Go ahead, don't hesitate,
Flip it over again, I'll wait."
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sat Nov 19, 2016 6:26 pm

Well, I'd know the drill,
For otherwise, Hubert would stand still,
Once again, I'd flip the card,
It'd be quite simple, not that hard.

Once my memory would be refreshed,
And with Hubert's words would it have meshed--
I'd figure I would continue to read,
Quenching our curiosity which would bleed.

"Now as I was saying,
To not be flung, I was praying,
For my grip was getting weaker,
From each ankle to each sneaker,

Were my hands slipping down,
And on my face it put a frown,
But to my good fortune,
I started to sense a distortion,

A distortion in the inertia,
That is, in the force that would hurtchya,
If it came at you as a wrecking ball,
Or if you took a fifty foot fall,

For I need not repeat myself--
Young Gabriel, small (and smart) as an elf--
We were going pretty darn fast,
And the inertia hit like a blast.

But the inertia was becoming less,
Or so it seemed in my state of distress,
As though the ride were slowing,
With less violent winds blowing.

My guess was the ride was over,
As though from a four leaf clover,
Our luck had suddenly changed,
And we would no longer be estranged,

From solid ground on which to stand,
For certainly that would be grand,
Given our current predicament,
Especially if it was dried cement.

Soon enough, I was certain,
That closing was the curtain,
On this particular ride,
And soon our fears will have died.

The ride indeed slowed down,
As if to come back into town,
It slowed, and slowed, and slowed some more,
So much that it became a real bore.

By the time the ground came into view,
We could see the fairground true blue,
It was at that moment when I understood,
What Saturn consisted of, and it wasn't wood.

I suddenly knew it was one gigantic fairground--
A massive carnival, is what we found.
Gurtrude, still grumbling, landed first,
Followed by Sally--Gurtrude felt cursed--

For Sally landed on top of her,
And the rest of us would too, for sure--
And Gurtrude quickly figured this out--
'Oh, Schnizle!' she did shout.

Sir Martian landed on top of Sally,
And I on Sir Martian--I said 'r'aly?'
Luckily, the feet onto which I was attached,
Didn't land on us--as though a plan was hatched:

A plan to save us from being crushed,
Or pummeled, or squished, or smushed--
Which ever you prefer, Gaby,
I'm not a word nazi (usually, maybe).

Instead, those smelly slimy feet,
Along with their body and the seat,
Landed in front of the mountain--
The pile of us 4 (if you're countin')

Then we heard a faint mumbling,
Which turned into a loud grumbling,
Then, like a volcano about to burst,
The mountain violently shook--it was the worst.

And burst it finally did,
And like a crock pot blowing its lid,
We were flung far and wide--
At least 3 of us were, I must confide--

For there in the middle Gurtrude stood,
Screeching profanities that weren't understood--
For if I said: 'Verflixt! Snurren! Stuhlgang!'
Would you understand such odd slang?

But there Gurtrude was, screaming every word--
Every word exactly, for my memory isn't blurred--
She was angry as a bubble,
And we hoped it wouldn't double.

But all of a sudden, she stopped--
As if, by someone, her words were cropped--
And like a dear in head lights,
Like a hang glider afraid of heights,

She just stood there staring,
At something obviously quite glaring:
'B-B-B?' she stammered and stuttered,
And then 'Bill?' she finally uttered.

Indeed, Bill it was,
Bill from Neptune because,
Well, because of reasons he would explain,
Though he had to get over his emotional pain,

For Bill was the one screaming,
While through space he was streaming.
Everyone was screaming, as I said,
But only Bill out of fear and dread.

'Bill, is zat you?' Gurtrude repeated,
'Gurtrude?' he spoke from where he was seated,
'Uh, yes, it's me... I think--'
And took a moment to blink.

'Let me just get myself together,
For I think I'm now in calmer weather.
Okay, Bill, take a deep breath...
Inhale... exhale... this is not death...

I'm fine, I'm okay,
It's just that earlier today,
I was standing by my trampoline,
Until I witnessed what I had never seen,

A young lady fell from Heaven,
And cost me eleven point seventy-seven--
Dollars, that is, in repair bills,
To my trampoline, and them's no thrills.

But then, out of the blue,
I was seized by a snot bubble--it's true!
I knew it was a snot bubble because,
It told me so, for quite intelligent it was--

That is to say, it was smart,
Smart enough, that is, to start,
A conversation with me,
At least with my mind, you see;

Let me explain--it was like this--
Not a detail should you miss--
Neptune sneezed--this I was told,
By the snot bubble--for Neptune had a cold--

Quite common for an outer planet,
Too far from the Sun to stand it--
The cold, that is, and thus,
Planets like Neptune have to fuss,

Over frequent colds and runny noses,
And all other problems that poses,
For it causes them to sneeze,
And shoot snot balls into the breeze,

Well, I was caught by one,
And in fact was absorbed--not fun--
It sucked me right into the middle,
Like chord vibrations settling on a fiddle.

Such that I couldn't even breathe--
And with panic did I almost seethe--
Unlike if I was stuck to the surface,
Taking in the fresh air of space, with purpose.

Like I said, I was suffocating,
In the middle where I was relocating,
But almost immediately,
I started to breathe expediently--

How so? How could that be?
It's called osmosis, you see.
What is osmosis, you ask?
Explaining that is a simple task:

When a sponge soaks up water,
Or ink soaked by a blotter,
Or knowledge by a child who's precocious
That, my friends, is osmosis.

It's when molecules from liquid stuff,
Get sucked up by a substance more tough--
Like H2O molecules (water, that is),
Get sucked up by a sponge (later, there'll be a quiz).

But in my case, it was S2N4Ot,
Getting sucked up by my skin, you see--
Oxygen being carried by the molecules of snot,
And straight to my lungs were they brought.

Also to my brain, the snot molecules went,
A message did they wish to be sent--
A message of pure thought, a mind meld,
One which, within seconds, I beheld.

It reassured me, the snot ball did,
That I was as safe as a mother's kid--
A baby yet to be born, in fact,
Snug in mother's whom, to be exact.

For that's precisely what it felt like,
Warm and cozy, swimming like a pike,
And whatever happens, where ever we went,
It reassured me our time would be well spent,

For it would take care of me,
Feeding me food and even tea,
It would breathe for me, of course,
And tell me jokes about Chuck Norris.'

'I hate to interrupt, darling dear,'
Gurtrude would interrupt, grinning ear to ear,
'But did zis lady, ze one you did mention,
Ze one who, though without bad intention,

Broke your trampoline, look anysing at all,
Like zat young voman zere standing tall?'
Gurtrude pointed to Sally, perplexed as the rest,
All looking at Bill with his still heaving chest.

Bill rubbed his eyes and did stare,
Having a good look at Sally with wild hair,
As sally whispered to me, Hubert:
'I recognize him, I do assert,'

Bill said: 'I recognize her,
I know her from somewherrre,'
'Now where would that be? I wonder...
But, oh, of course!'--It hit him like thunder!

'She's the woman who tore right through,
My trampoline! I swear, it's true!'
'I know zat, Bill.' Gurtrude replied,
'I knew it was her, this woman I spied,'

Bill continued, 'The moment I laid eyes,
On her, my memory, which tells no lies,
Recalled that pretty face, and told me,
That it was her: that's her, you see,'

'Yes, Bill, zat's vat I said,' Gurty slipped in,
'Yesseri, I'd recognize her, through thick or thin,'
Bill went on, 'Nothing gets by me,'
'Sure, Bill, nossing gets by you, I see.'

'But what's this now?' Bill sputtered on,
'Hubert? Sir Martian?--From days long gone?'
'More like earlier this afternoon, Bill,'
From Sir Martian, such words did spill.

'Bill,' I chimed in, 'Is it really you?
How'd you end up here? Is your story true?'
'Of course it's true, would I lie?'
Sir Martian and I gave each other the eye.

'He's telling the truth,' Sally did see,
'It makes total sense of what happened to me.'
'Well, that's not all,' Bill did continue,
'There's more, if listening is still within you,

For you see, just as I was getting cozy,
And my world was starting to feel rosy,
By the most bitter cold, I was suddenly seized,
And wished like heck Neptune never sneezed,

For my snotty sanctuary was suddenly shattered,
All over were S2N4Ot molecules scattered,
The snot bubble had all of a sudden splattered,
And to me, that really mattered,

For now, I was lost, hungry, and cold,
And what was worse, something on me had a hold,
That is, I was trapped, confined,
Something got strapped to my behind,

And now that I've adjusted to my surroundings,
And my heart has stopped with all the poundings,
I now realize what happened to me,
It's plane and simple, as I now see.

My friend the snot bubble,
Must have gotten into trouble,
In virtue of hitting this seat,
The one here, cold as ice, no heat.

It must have hit at just the right angle,
For me, the seat certainly didn't strangle,
No, it didn't, for I did not land,
On my head or neck, you understand,

I landed on my rear, my butt, obviously,
Which, considering the worst, brings me glee,
Right into the buckle, strapping me in,
That's when I started to frown, not grin.'

'Hey Bud, the ride's over,'
Said a carny named Dover,
'Make room for the next person,
You're only making the line worsen.'
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
resident exorcist
Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
Location: in your mom

Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sat Feb 04, 2017 8:38 am

'Oh, excuse me,' Bill apologized,
Still feeling a bit surprised,
He'd unbuckle his belt and stand straight,
And then move at a speedy rate.

'So,' would say Gurtrude as they walked,
Through people, past stands, and talked,
'You understand vat zis means, don't you Bill?
It means your chances of vinning are nill.

For who's at Neptune's helm now?
Who's at ze wheel, a sleeping cow?'
'Gurtrude, my dear,' Bill would reply,
'What you suggest is a far cry,

From the truth, that is,
For we have a girl named Liz,
Whose skill is unparalleled:
She knows how to paint, knit, and weld.

But her best talent of all,
The reason we made a good call,
In hiring her, that is to say,
Is that she's the best pilot today.

She's driven stars, even black holes!
She knows how the job rolls,
So you need not fret, my dear Gurtrude,
Things aren't as dire as you've construed.

But now that you mention it,
Who, at Uranus's helm, does sit?
Obviously not you, it is clear,
So who, I ask, who my dear?'

'You sink ve vould have no one,
In my absence for Uranus to run?
You obviously have no clue, darling Bill,
How prepared ve are, for ve have a drill:

Ven I am not around to command,
Ve have a co-pilot ready at hand,
Und if zat co-pilot is not around,
Ve have a co-co-pilot who vill abound,

Und if zat co-co-pilot is sick,
Ze co-co-co-pilot vill come in quick,
Und just in case, darling Bill,
Ze co-co-co-pilot is busy, ve vill--'

'OK, I get the point,' Bill would interject,
'Don't interrupt! You show disrespect!'
Gurtrude would raise her voice,
'But,' Bill would retort, 'I have no choice,

For I know you well, Gurtrude--
You never stop talking, which is rude,
And so I have to interrupt when I can,
If I am to have say at all, man!'

'You dare to call me rude?
I vould chew you up like food--
Zat is, if I vere blood sirsty und violent--
Of course, I'm not, but I vill not be silent.'

'That's the problem, my dear,
You're never silent, it is clear,'
'Oh, please, you are one to talk!'
'Hey, if you'd let me, that would rock.'

'Ok, enough!' Sally would intervene,
'Let's start over with a slate that's clean,
Obviously you two have history,
And that it's bitter is no mystery.

But now, there are more important things,
For some of us here are still Earthlings,
Stuck on Saturn with no way off,
And that's not something at which to scoff.

I'm sure you two would agree--
Despite not being like us, you see--
Earthlings, that is to say,
For you hail from farther away,

And have different homes from us,
To which there is no bus,
Nor plane, nor train, nor ship,
That will take you on a space trip,

Back to Uranus or Neptune,
Not even to a nearby moon,
So we're all in the same boat together,
Trying to get home through sun or stormy weather.'

'Except, darling,' Gurtrude responded,
'Ze only reason I'm here, feeling despondent,
So don't put on zis innocent veneer.

I told you, darling, I vanted to stay,
I told you it was not in my plans to stray,
Avay from Uranus, my home planet long gone,
But by your legs, you dragged me along.'

'Oh, I know, and I'm so sorry,'
Sally explained her side of the story,
'But if you could only understand,
That while I was visiting your land,

I grew so fond of you,
Your command, your knowledge, it's true,
For you are an incredible leader,
And your knowledge does not peter,

It was that planetary turbo rocket booster,
Fiery red like the bill of a rooster,
That impressed me most,
And of which you have much to boast,

For it was such an engineering marvel,
That I'm still dazed amidst this carnival,
And being the engineering nut I am,
Like Emeril, my mind shouted: BAM!!!

That's why I couldn't leave you behind,
I just couldn't, Gurtrude, and I won't rewind--
I won't rewind time, that is to say,
And leave you at home on this day,

For you are too precious to me,
And I needed to make a decision, you see,
A split second decision, I mean,
Before we blew that Uranian scene,

I decided, in that last second,
To bring you along, and I reckoned,
That if that would upset you so,
I'd apologize profusely, you know?'

'No, darling, I don't know,'
Gurtrude responded easy and slow,
'But maybe I can be persuaded,
To allow my resentment to be abated,

If you can somehow find a vay,
To return me home on zis day,
For its ze least you could do,
Considering I did ze same for you,

Ven, to you, zat pod I lent,
On vich a lot of money ve spent,
Und vich you still haven't returned,
Und so my respect you still haven't earned.'

'But Gurtrude,' Sally did plead,
'With all due respect, I must concede,
That your request I cannot fulfill,
For I can't make ships appear at will.'

'A ship, did yew say?' a voice startled us,
'If it's a ship yew need, I've got one, a real plus,
But you'll have to dew me a fava',
Something that I will fo'eve' sava'.

Yew see, gang, I'm stuck up he'e--
He'e on this waull (I know it's queer)--
Don't ask how I got he'e,
It's a long staury, I fea'.

But he'e I am, hanging from a hook,
My coat stuck on it, so it would look,
And in orde' for me to help you out,
You'll need to win me with you' carny-game clout.'

We all turned around and did look,
And indeed, there would hang from a hook,
A stout little man, about 5 inches tall,
Hanging there helpless on the wall.

Upon closer inspection, we would see,
That this little man would surely be,
None other than the Travelocity Gnome,
The very one who roams far from home.

'If ya wan'em, you gotta play,'
A grimy looking carny would say,
'3 bucks a shot, you gotta pay,
If not, come back some other day.'

'Good sir,' the gnome would reply,
'This is not fair, you ca'ny guy,
You can't just stuing me up he'e,
Stealing my fueedom cherished and dea',

For I was minding my own business,
Until, God as my witness,
You snatched me up without permission,
Just so you could make a commission,

Off all the money you cha'ge,
Gouging people small and la'ge,
To play yo' silly games,
That go by "ring-toss", and othe' names.

But this is an injustice, I tell you,
You have no right to keep me in this zoo,
Among stuffed animals, lions and bears,
And other creata'es covered in hairs.'

'Can it, gnome,' the carny rudely said,
'Can yer whinin' and put it to bed,
The only way you're ever gettin' free,
Is if one a' these folks wins, you see.'

'You see the bind I'm in?' the gnome did ask,
'If you don't play, I'll have to sadly bask,
In this suspended state,
And, as usual, do nothing but wait,

Until the next pe'son comes along,
And dances to this ca'ny's song,
And even then, the'e's no guarantee,
That they'll win, wouldn't you agree?

But the'e's something special in sto'e,
Fo' the five of you, something mo'e--
Mo'e, that is, than a porcelain gnome,
Fo' I could be you' ticket home.

Yew did say, didn't you?
That you and you' crew,
Needed a ship to get yew home?
Well, who better than the Travelocity Gnome?

Who better, that is, with whom to travel,
Fo' with Travelocity, your trip will unravel,
With Travelocity, you'll never roam alone,
Fo' with my ship, I can get you home.'
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
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Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Sat Feb 11, 2017 9:02 am

'That don't sound like a bad deal,'
Sir Martian said with zeal,
'Not a bad deal at all,
Alls we gotta do is throw a ball.'

'If ya wanna win that prize,'
Said the carny with edgy eyes,
'Ya gotta throw three balls,
And ya gotta hit them there wallz.

Not just anywherez either,
Grab that ball and really squeeze 'er,
Aim for that circle right there,
The one with the 1000--not just anywhere.

If ya hit that circle with the thousand,
My attention you will have arousened,
But that's not all--no sir, buddy bear--
You'll only be one third the way there.

You'll have a thousand points, my friend,
But that's not enough in the end,
For if ya wanna win that gnome on the wall,
You'll have to pick up another ball.

You'll have to throw it one more time,
Right in that circle, stopping on a dime,
Then you'll have two thousand points,
But I'm afraid that in these here joints,

That's still not enough--no sir, dimple chin--
For if that gnome ya really wanna win--
You'll have to throw a third time,
And again--whether reason or rhyme--

Ya gotta hit that circle, the same one,
And then, my friends, the game is done,
If ya get 3000 points, in other words,
That gnome can fly off the hook like the birds,

I'll take him off myself,
Easily, being small as an elf,
And I'll hand him over to you,
Then with him, I don't care whatchya do.'

We all responded with a blank stare,
As if we just didn't care,
But Sir Martian certainly cared,
For his opinion he eventually aired:

'COOOOOOOL!' he bellowed out,
'Le'me try,'--he had no self-doubt--
He stepped up to the plate,
'Woaw! Woaw! Woaw!--Wait! Wait! Wait!'

The carny interrupted, 'Whadya think?
That I wouldn't raise a stink?
'bout the fact that you haven't paid?
This ain't no free-for-all, it ain't no raid.

Three bucks a shot, ya gotta pay--
Otherwise, turn around and walk away--
But if ya pay up, the ball's yours--
All 3 of 'em, if ya pay 6 bucks morez.'

Sir Martian forked over the cash,
It was all he had from his personal stash--
The one his mom gave him earlier today,
When we crashed into Mars gone astray.

'There y'go,' said the carny smugly,
'Now don't make this get ugly--
Just follow the rules like I told ya,
Get 3000 points and I will have sold ya,

That there gnome on the wall,
As I keep my promises 'n all.'
Sir Martian got serious,
The rules weren't mysterious.

He got into position with legs apart,
Like a stance in some martial art.
He focused on the bull's eye,
The circle marked 1000--need I ask why?

When he was ready--when he found his zen--
He wound his arm back and then... and then...
He swung the ball as hard as he could,
And before it hit, he understand,

That this was a winning throw,
For it was dead on, you know--
Smacked the wall right in the center,
Right in the bull's eye it did enter.

The whole gang cheered with joy,
'Not bad, little man,' said the carny looking coy,
'But ya need two more hits like that,
If ya wanna win the gnome with the funny hat.'

He gave Sir Martian another ball,
With which to throw against the wall.
Sir Martian resumed the position--
Another bull's eye for which we were wishin'.

Once again, he wound his arm back,
And swung forward, ready to attack--
Again, it was a clean hit!
Within the inner circle, it nicely fit.

He felt a pat on the shoulder from me,
Plus a hug and kiss from Sally,
And seeing the carny's jaw drop to the floor,
Only encouraged Sir Martian to try once more.

'I see yer somewhat of an expert,'
The carny, quite impressed, did assert,
'Do ya play much baseball, kid?'
'No, just years of harpooning squid.'

While the carny questioned this reply,
Sir Martian geared up for another try,
He swung back, he swung forward,
This swing being his last, his third.

And wouldn't you know it?
He certainly didn't blow it.
He struck his target right in the center,
With so much force, he even dented 'er.

Sally and I, plus Gurtrude and Bill,
Jumped with joy, overwhelmed with thrill--
So did the gnome on the wall,
At least he tried, being stuck and all.

'Well, I gots'ta admit,' the carny said,
'Ya really put that game to bed,
I didn't think y'had it in ya,
But ya proved me wrong, didn' ya?

Well, fair's fair--no pun intended--
I promised that when the game ended--
Assuming that ya won, of course--
I'd give ya a prize--like a stuffed horse--

But it's that gnome, ya gotta admit,
That y've had yer eyes on, ain' it?'
'Yes, yes, yes,' the gnome piped up,
'I'm what they want, so shut up!

Quit staulling and get me off this waull;
I'd dew it myself, but I'm tew small,
You know they want me--we've been ove' this--
Or was that a conve'sation you did miss?'

'Hey gnome,' the Carny did reply,
'Remembering that I'd never deny,
Fer I'm thrilled to let y'go--
Yer whinin's brought me nottin' but woe.'

Off the wall, the carny grabbed the gnome--
Hope filling him that he'd finally get home--
And handed him to the gang of five:
'Glad to be rid of ya' while I'm alive.'

In his hands, Sir Martian took the gnome,
And put him in his back pack with his comb--
The one his mom gave him, with the cash--
All 9 bucks, which he spent rather rash--

But a wise investment it was,
Why you ask? Well, it was because...
Because T.G. (i.e. Travelocity Gnome)
Was our ticket home.
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
resident exorcist
Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
Location: in your mom

Re: Gabriel's Space Odyssey

Postby gib » Fri Feb 17, 2017 7:39 am

He even started playing with the comb,
Secure and comfy in this temporary home.
He--that is, the Gnome--began to comb his hair,
And all of a sudden smelt the fresh air.

He looked up and realized,
That he should really be surprised--
For he was now free! He was!
In someone's back pack because...

Because someone won him, of course--
And then he figured out the source,
The source of the fresh air, that is,
For he was certainly a math whizz,

To have figured out that the pack was open,
And down rushed a cool breeze with TG hopin',
That he was tall enough to peer out--
And stand up straight to stick out his snout.

Indeed he was--tall enough that is--
For he certainly was a math whizz--
To have actually figured this out!
How to stand straight, no doubt.

'Say,' he finally said, 'Saury t'botha yew,
But this comb is exquisite--so tell me, please do--
We'e on Ea'th did you get it?
And how much did you pay? Cash or debit?'

'Huh? Who? Where?' Sir Martian did speak up,
'Oh, TG, it's you--on people, don't sneak up!
Well, Earth wasn't where I got it,
Mars was the place, and my mommy bought it.

She packed it for me for an emergency,
But you can use it if it's any urgency.'
'Oh, it's no u'gency, my good chap,'
Said TG giving Sir Martian's shoulder a slap,

'I'm just guateful for you' geneuocity--
That is, on behalf of myself and Travelocity--
Not just for this comb, divine as it may be,
But for winning that game and setting me fuee.'

'Well, if you have a ship, as you say,
And if you drive us home on this day,
Consider that repayment, evening the score,
And then you will owe us no more.'

'Do remember, Sir Martian' I inserted,
'With destiny we must have flirted,
For we have arrived on Saturn
--Despite making a wrong turn!--

The very place we were to rendezvous,
With our fearless captain and his crew!
Don't you think we should stick around?
That is, just in case we are found?

By Gaby and the rest of the crew,
Once they arrive in an hour or two?'
'An hour or two?' questioned Sally,
'It's not like Gaby to dilly-dally,

'Whereas we took the long way 'round,
On a direct course here, he was bound.
He probably already arrived and left,
Out of boredom or feeling bereft.'

'Gaby wouldn't leave us,' Sir Martian said,
'I agree,' I agreed, nodding my head,
'He'll either be here soon,
Or he's here already, pro'ly since noon.

It's a big planet, after all,
Saturn that is, a humungous ball,
Which is why we owe it to him,
To search to the outer rim,

Looking for him and the crew,
For isn't that what true friends do?'
'I'm glad ze bonds of comradery you feel,
Towards zis friend you speak of wiz zeal,'

Gurtrude spoke up with a practical tone,
'Und I see your loyalty runs to ze bone,
But if I may speak for zose who know not,
Zis Gaby, zis amazing astronaught--

Namely, myself and Bill--
It brings us no thrill,
Ze idea of staying in von place,
Ve'd rather be up in space,

On ze first flight out of here,
Back home sometimes zis year.'
'Gurtrude's right,' Bill concurred,
'Though I appreciate your every word,

I too understand the virtues of loyalty,
For it is not owed only to royalty,
But to friends old and true,
Like your friend and his trusty crew,

But to wait around for those we don't know,
Why, that's a place I just won't go.
Maybe on a compromise, we can agree,
Why don't we hash one out and see,

What I suggest,' Bill continued,
'Is that for the sake of me and Gurtrude,
We follow Mr. Gnome to his ship,
And at that point, if you're still hip,

On the idea of staying put,
You can stay grounded with each foot,
But be forewarned, for at that point,
Your ticket home will leave this joint.'

'Speaking of which, where is it--
This ship of yours, where does it sit?
Sir Martian questioned the gnome,
'The ship with which you will fly us home?'

'Well,' the little gnome replied,
'It's um... um... oh, look at that ride!'
They all looked--it was a merry-go-round--
Kinda amusing but really didn't astound,

'Uh, that's nice,' Sir Martian went on,
'But you were saying about a ship? Am I wrong?'
'Uh, er, oh yes, my ship,' TG would continue,
'Well, it's somewhe'e around this venue,

It's um... it's... that is to say...
Yew know, at this time of day,
The sunset is really go'geous, isn't it?
He're on Satu'n... let's stop and sit.'

'You're stalling, little man,' Gurtrude accused,
'Und by zis, ve are not amused.'
'I suspect Gurtrude is right,' Hubert added,
'With red herrings your answer seems padded.'

'Won't you come clean?' Bill contributed,
'For might I remind you, you have stipulated,
That you indeed have a ship, and in fact,
You made a promise with which you are backed--

That is to say, you owe us a ride,
So if you have something to hide,
Now is the time to come clean,
Time to be honest, I mean.'

'Oh, aull right!' the gnome confessed,
'I'll tell the truth, fo' that would be best--
Though I do have to say, I didn't lie,
I do have a ship that flies through the sky--

It's just that, well, to be honest,
The ship is gone from here--it's the gonest--
The gonest of all ships--plain and clean--
Fo' it's gone from he'e, nowhe'e to be seen.'

'Wait a minute!' Sally would protest,
'You mean to say that on your request,
We spent 9 bucks on you just because,
Of the promise you made to us, which was:

That you had a ship and would fly us home,
But now you tell us, while holding that comb,
That you don't know where it is,
That you lost it in all this confusing frizz?!'

'Well, I didn't exactly lose it,'
TG excused himself, not flinching a bit,
'I just don't know whe'e it is,
Fo' it's a long stau'y, t'is.'

We all braced ourselves--
'I was bo'n into a pack of elves,
Close relatives to gnomes, elves are,
My motha', a gnome, married an elf from afar.

TG began, his memory becoming nostalgic,
'I was born,' he continued, 'very allergic,
To the nector of the bees--that is, honey--
So thank goodness I didn't run into any--

Newww, I did't--for since I was a lad,
The thought of travelling made me glad.
I thought, I thought, and I thought some mo',
About travelling he'e and the'e, to worlds galo',

From No'th America to South America,
From the mountains of Japan to Canada,
And everywhe'e I'd goew,
Whethe' to Spain or Mexico,

I'd get someone to take my picta',
As a permanent fixta',
Of my many worldly travels,
And the history which it unravels,

When I look back into my past--
Fo' the years certainly seemed to last--
Anyway, as I was saying,
From home I so wished to be stuaying--

To travel away from home--to travel period--
Would never grow weary--or even weariered--
It was aulways my dream, in othe' wo'ds,
To travel fueely like the birds.

But sometimes the world is not enough,
One sometimes yearns fo' othe' stuff--
Like visiting other planets like Mars,
Or just travelling to the stars.

So one day I decided to take a rocket,
Climbed aboa'd, I did, into the cockpit,
And took off to explo'e the astral sky,
To see things that would make me say "Oh my!"

But not long into my jou'ney, unfo'tunately,
I ran lew on gas--it worried me, scorchingly--
The fault was mine, of course,
And it brings me great remo'se--

The embarrassment, that is to say,
Even to this very day.
But I was in luck, I was,
Why you ask? Well, because...

Because I was flying right by Jupite',
Quite fast acco'ding to the speedomete',
But almost as a knee je'k reaction,
I slammed on the breaks, creating some tuaction,

And hugged the curve very tight,
As I turned the wheel with aull my might.
I came in fo' a landing,
Despite not understanding,

That Jupite' was a desolate place--
Not a single soul or human face,
Fo' miles and miles around,
Though a couple of poodles and a greyhound,

Having been spotted from time to time,
Or so I'm told--whethe' reason or rhyme.
But not I, not me,
I saw no doggies, unfo'tunately.

I saw no one, not a soul,
Instead there was a gaping hole,
Whe'e the'e would have been civilization,
Great structu'es, a monumental nation.

Needless to say, I could not refuel,
As though fate were being especially cruel.
Sewww, I just wonde'ed around,
To see whateve' could be found.

I wonde'ed fo' about an hour,
When a wonderous sight my eyes did devour:
I saw an ewld broken down shack,
And around the left side of its back,

The'e was what appea'd to be a ship;
In the wing, the'e was a rip.
It appea'd to have crashed,
Threw the waull into which it had bashed.

Well, I was a mechanic in my youth,
And a handy man--it's the truth--
And as a rule, I always carry--
A gift from a guy named Perry:

I carry a tool belt on my pe'son,
With which a bad situation will neve' wo'sen.
Fo' with a bit of duck tape and a screw driva',
I can fix anything, no one being the wiser.

So with a ha'ness and a cuank,
I pulled that ship out of its bank.
I stitched up the wing,
And made it look like bling.

And to my good fo'tune,
Unless it was a disto'tion,
Or over my eyes, someone pulled the wool,
The fuel gauge seemed to read "full."

And what's mo', what was truly amazing,
What in my mind is still blazing,
Is that the'e in the ignition,
Was that fo' which I was wishin':

The keys we'e left the'e,
As though fo'gotten without a care.
Well, it was aull I could do not to stare,
And to hold down my raised hair.

So what did I do?
What do you think, you, you, and you?
I stuapped myself in and turned the key,
And before I knew it, I was grinning with glee--

Fo' I was back up in space,
As though catching up in a race,
Making up fo' lost time--
Could anything be mo' sublime?!

With a full tank, I had enough,
For a smooth ride, not rough,
All the way to Saturn,
Even then, with more gas to burn.

Coming in threw the clouds,
High above the joyful crowds,
And amidst the odors which I smelled,
My eyes suddenly beheld,

Reams and reams of parking staulls,
Fo' miles around, no ceiling, no waulls,
In fact, they reached far as the horizon,
The range was even fa'ther than Verizon.

And if you think it was easy,
To find a place to park, a vacancy,
Think again, my new found fuiends,
The lot was full to its bitte' ends.

Well, I knew my luck was out,
I knew I had to find anotha' route,
Anotha' place to land, that is to say,
From the parkade landscape, I had to get away.

So I flew fo' hours and hours,
Through sun shine and showers,
Until one day I saw land--
Er, that is, a corn dog stand.

Right beside a guy selling pizza,
A guy saying "Nice to meetcha'"
With a big enough grin,
To invite hungry pizza love's in.

Then there was the apple bopping stand,
Bopping ewnly with you' mouth, not you' hand,
And next to that was the Old West Salloon,
With things to shoot like bank robbers or a racoon.

And in the background was a wheel,
A Ferris one, that is, made of steel,
Beside that was a couple of rolle' coaste's,
With cars looking like a train of toaste's.

The'e was a merry-go-round and bumper cars,
And something like a rocket ship to Mars,
Rides that went high and low and up-side-down--
Yep, I'd definitely got to Carnival Town.

But the question still did remain:
How was I going to land this plane?--
My ship, I mean, for the parkade was gone,
And the list of parking spots now wasn't long.

I didn't want to squish anyone,
And landing on a carny stand didn't seem fun,
Landing on a ride was out of the question,
I wouldn't conside' it even as a suggestion.

Finally, I spotted an open space,
Right behind a tent--that was the place!
It seemed like a back alley of a sort,
Where no one went, not even to cavort.

So checking my blind spots with extra care,
I decided to park my ship down the'e.
I landed on flat ground, thank goodness,
Crushing nothing, which would be pure rudeness.

But here's the catch, here's the thing,
As soon as I stepped out of my ship: BING!!!
I was knocked on the head and blacked out,
I didn't even have time to scream o' shout.

Next thing I knew, I was hanging on the waull,
Realizing it slowly--I was unconscious, after aull.
I hung there fo' a good long while,
Until you guys came along and made me smile.

'Til this day, you can see the scar,
Induced by what felt like a metal bar--
The crack on my fo'head, I mean,
Fo' I'm made of resin, glistening clean.

Who was the culprit, you ask?
Well, figuring that out is no task:
It was the carny you dealt with ea'lier,
The surly one--no, even surlier.

The real question that stumps me,
And even sometimes makes me grumpy,
Is what happened in the time between,
Being knocked on the head (I mean),

And waking up on that waull.
How much time had paussed, afte' aull?
Fo' if I knew that, then at least,
I could guess how fa'way is that beast--

That beast of a ship--mine, I mean--
Fo' the longe' I was out, it can be seen,
The fa'the' he must have taken me.
This is good logic, don't you agree?

But even if I knew the time--
How much had paussed, precisely as a rhyme--
That wouldn't tell me in what direction,
The carny travelled, into what Saturnian section.

So you see, my friends, you see my plight?
How not even I can catch a flight?
Off this planet and find my way home?
How on Satu'n, I must fo'ever roam?

But I didn't lie, did I?
A ship I still have, by and by,
It's parked somewhe'e he'e--this I know--
Somewhe'e on Satu'n, amidst this ca'nival show.

I just can't be that precise--
Fo' if I could, that would be nice--
In spelling out its exact location,
But what does it matte'? I'm on vacation!'
My thoughts | My art | My music | My poetry

A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.
- unknown source

Men must be taught as if you taught them not. And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
- Alexander Pope

Here lies the body of William J, who died maintaining his right of way.
He was right, dead right, as he sped along, but he's just as dead as if he were wrong.
- Boston Transcript
User avatar
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Posts: 8773
Joined: Sat May 27, 2006 10:25 pm
Location: in your mom


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