A Spaceman Came Travelling
Desert wasteland with wind blowing. A Martian landscape. A single tower block of multi-storey flats stands high above the surface. On the third floor, a shawled woman is looking out. A solitary muffled figure is stumbling towards her in the distance.
What wind is this that blows my heart about?
Inconstant as my mind, in fits and starts,
To yell and yearn in all the points at once,
She’s here, she’s there, she’s nowhere to be seen,
Long choked with rusty dust, her name inscribed
In serried plains I searched when I could see
My goddess standing like a far-off tree.
I stumbled on, though curse of night did fall.
I’ll make this planet’s dried-up blood my sheets
If underneath its ruddy stones for pillows
She lies with hard as hard as these I tread
The Martian Way to find the obelisk,
Wherein she dwells by all accounts on Earth.
She is no monolith but sides has four:
Her north is cold as any winter freeze;
Her south looks neither east nor west is hard
To find, in desert seas there’s many rover
Cast up shore, or ditched my boat in sand,
Are monuments to fools that gave their lives.
Thus swathed in shawls like Obi Wan I come
To populate this bloody world with love.
For her I came a thousand million miles.
Now looms her sandstone castle in my sight:
A dirty yellow block of my delight.
Her rescue is my mission, love my ship,
The stars confetti, sun my ruby ring,
That blood red rose in harvest’s barren field.
To granite me her looks and regal wave.
No sun is in the sky when she looks down,
But pale all hail who saw her perfect face
To kneel to altar of her state of stone,
Before her balcony is where I wait.
14 Sept. 15.
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