collab

Thursday, August 25, 2022

Time Traveler In a World Without Time....pages from my diary written in an interplanetary asylum

 


Time Travel
by Daley









Time Traveler

                In A World Without Time


The plane set down in 1957

A Friday morning on a cold wet day

Even though I had left the day before on a warm dry Sunday night

And the sun had been shining for four months in Spitsbergen.


I was rather sleepy, having not slept

For twenty-two minutes or so

And my yawns sounded somewhat musical

In a braying donkey kind of hee haw way.


Peter Cushing was starring in the movie

They'd been showing on board, I remembered

Some horrible thing called a horror movie

No, that's not right, it was a terrible film

And it was silent. (Except for all the snoring.)


As a matter of fact, there had been

No in-flight movie of any kind that night

Only a couple of Saturday Evening Posts

And Photo Play magazines, muchly thumbed through.


I hailed a Black and Purple taxicab

That took me to my hotel, some modernistic thing

Called The Holiday Out

Where no one with even half a reputation would stay.


There were hardly any doors to speak of

Only thin slits in the bricks to squeeze through

And after you'd lost ten pounds in the effort

You found yourself, confusingly, somewhere outside Marrakesh

In 1965.


65???  What? I hadn't even been born yet!

Or had I? My mother hadn't told me, you see

Any details about that happy occasion

Or if, indeed it had been happy or if it had even happened at all.


I just seemed to wake up one morning

And there I was. Yawning.

Wearing soft white pajamas with little giraffes on them

Mysteriously holding an orange object that could have been a ball.....

Or an orange.


But enough about me. I'm a boring subject

The really interesting people are all in there

(In the places you come out of when you realize

You're in the wrong place)

I've met a few characters in there, believe me!


The bi-polar clown, the man with no heart,

The invisible woman who could only be seen

In the glow of the full moon,

The song that sang itself.


I rode through the desert on a horse

With no.......

Name? Yeah, that's it. No name. Or saddle.      Ouch!

Time travel can really be tiresome at times

Especially if you are travelling in the time before Time

Or before Timex watches 

('Cause Grandfather Clocks were just too big to carry around.)


It's always 4:30 when there is no Time to be told

I forget who told me that. Oh, now I remember!

A chap in a porkpie hat selling pork pies in Trafalgar Square

He wore a bowtie and short pants but only one shoe

(Probably because he only had one leg)

Ah, yes! The porkpie guy. Rupert Something.


In between times, you can't laugh

No matter how funny something is,

You can only weep

Bizarre, really, but no more bizarre than most things

I've experienced on those invisible pathways.


There's a very tall building in one realm....get this.... 

With absolutely nothing in it but seesaws

And unadorned Christmas trees

Looking for presents to hover over.


But December never comes there

That month is totally skipped over

No December 25ths at all

You go directly from Thanksgiving turkey 

To New Year's Day hangovers. Or thereabouts.


In one place, it was continually Halloween

And in another, it was always the day after tomorrow

Bankers in thousand dollar suits scrubbed floors

And poor people counted money.


I quite enjoyed that.........

(I was poor, you see)

I was always bloody poor

No matter what time period I ended up in 

(And I was always looking for french fries.)


I fell in and out of love several times, I recall

But always with the same fellow, oddly enough

He, too, was a time traveler stuck in a rut

Between here and there and he always carried a Polaroid camera

Heaven knows where he got his film!


We spent three glorious weeks in a library once

Camped out in the stacks, perusing books of all kinds

Trying desperately to figure out 

What the proverbial "Birds and the Bees" scenario was all about.


We had hitched a time warp back to that awkward age

When we were both going through and pushing past puberty

But without embarrassed parents to tell us 

What it was that we needed to know but did not know

We found books with ghastly pictures that implied

That babies came from a boy/girl conjunction but we were dubious.


By the time we had  figured it out and got caught doing it

We were kicked out of said library by a cross and startled librarian

Who appeared to be from a seventeenth century nunnery

Even though she was wearing a Fitbit and sole-less shoes.


Once, we had a mere fifteen minutes together

It was in Paris and we were drinking frozen wine

At some little outdoor café called Vin Congele´

(It was very romantic but it was January and twenty below.)


We never knew where we would run into one another

Or if we would or how or when or why

Time travel is a game of chance, a draw of the cards

And often not exactly a pleasant experience

If you haven't gotten over that quarrel during your last encounter.


The most bizarre I suppose, took place in 1849 in the wild Wild West

When I found myself coming out of a teepee clutching a tomahawk

While my love, a sexy and disheveled cowboy, lay staked down to an ant hill

Begging for mercy and a Bud Light.


I will not tell you how that turned out

Neither will I recount several centuries of incidents

That will either turn you against me

Or make you fall madly in love. Maybe both.


Oh, look! A squirrel!!!


Let's just say that the Earth looks pretty from Mars

And that there is one planet out there

Totally inhabited by women that look exactly like me

(Except they are blue and speak in a Swahili/Russian dialect

 They giggle a lot and wear bikinis made entirely from their own hair.


Perhaps I should end this saga here, my faithful readers er.... reader

And take the tale up again when you have digested everything thus far

And wrapped your mind around the incongruity of it all

And when you are sober............or sane




©by Voo Shining Stone, Poet, Writer

And Involuntary Time Traveler

In the year 2020

(possibly)

(probably)

(They told me there would be a year like this

somewhere in the future) So yeah.....this must be the year

It's so 2020-ish




Proof of Time Travel, ya'll.... Peter Dinklage Uh huh.
👀😝


But just wait for 2021!!!!!!
It shall be 7000 days and 18 nights long!!!!!
KFC will run out of rubber chickens,
the cows will all become bulls
White Castle hamburgers will be re-named
something less offensive,
donkeys will run wild in the streets
and there shall be no ....uh....
no....uh......

Um. Nothing. There shall be nothing..................


Sunday, August 21, 2022

The Song In My Eyes

 




The Song In My Eyes



The violin cries
And I catch each tearful note
In my outstretched listening hands
There they lay, sparkling like diamonds
Dazzling like dewdrops, sharp as swords
And healing like the potion of a medicine man.

I drink in the music
And let it fill me, overfill me, drown me
In it's beauty and heartbreak
A tidal wave of motion and emotion
That sweeps me clean of pain and sand
And deposits joy there on my empty shore.

The musician pauses, bow in midair
And I voicelessly scream "No!"
And will him to continue playing until I am spent
Dissolved in tears and filled once more with hope.

Hope that only beauty discovers
And beauty fills
The violin cries and the song in my eyes
Is composed, is played, is shared, is done.






by Voo
Copyright ©2007

You Can Leave Your Hat On.....yes, yes, yes!

 



somewhere there is a video of me dancing to this.......um....yes. .with a hat

Dream Lovers






Dreamin' bout you
by Prince







Dream Lovers


You were my dream lover
And you loved me in my dreams
But we could not hold onto that
In reality it seems.

For love here in reality
Is a hard, hard game to play
And people run away from love
And almost never stay.

And I don't know why that is so
Or why it's always been
It's almost like true love's a crime
And wanting it's a sin.

People using people
Is now societal norm
Discarding them when they're of no use
From the moment they are born.

And yet inside each human heart
Is the burning need to know
The touch of love, not knowing that
Love needs our love to grow.

So people hide in shadows
And lurk at love's closed doors
Watching for love to open up
With welcome mats on it's floors.

But rarely does that closed door open
No matter how long you wait
For love's as frightened of you out there
As you are scared of it's fate.

And most of us, from youth to old age
Sit in darkened rooms alone
In a house that we have built ourselves
That will never be a home.

We live in virtual reality
That will never be a fact
Clinging to CGI people on screens
That will never love us back.

I don't think God made this world this way
Nor did He desire us thus
To live in lonely isolation
With no happiness or trust.

He made us to need one another
He made us need the things others have got
He made us to share the uniqueness we have
With other sad seeking souls that have not.

But you and I, we never met
On this lonely, orbiting rock
We waited inside our own closed doors
On which love just wouldn't knock.

Instead we dreamed ourselves a love
That visited at night
And who loved and lived in astral realms
But at dawn, kept out of sight.

And that sufficed for a span of time
But never truly satisfied
The hungry hearts inside of us
Who screamed at us and cried.

For something real that they could feel
To hold there in our hand
Not fiction, fantasy or film
But a real woman, a real man.

But we held onto what we had found
Just as passionately as we could
For fantasy was all that we had
And that dream world was safe and good.

Until the day came that we awoke
And could never sleep again
Till we embraced reality
And took it's hated hand.

And it led us out into the sun
And showed us skies above
Showed us life and all it's woes
And told us to look for love.

Not love in fairy story books,
Not love on movie reels
Not love in songs that just end wrong
But love that hurts and heals.

So we walked away from dreamland
Into the waiting arms of others
Who've longed for flesh and blood people to come
And take the place of their dream lovers.

And though we may not ever meet
And it may not ever seem
That we were true, I did love you
In the world that was a dream.







©By Voo
July 22, 2019
10:15 p.m.


Dreamsome



                                                                                                                                You Are The Dream




I've got dreams to remember
Michael Grimm




 

BROKEN ARROW






Broken Arrow


"I don't want to fight with you,"
He said as he drew near
"These fights are tearing me apart
And they're drowning you in tears."

"I don't know why you cannot see
And why you cannot feel
The love I have for you alone
Is good and strong and real."

He tried to turn my face to his
But my heartbreak wouldn't turn
He tried to cool my raging heart
But I just stood and let it burn.

And silence grew as he walked out
His sighs trailing soft behind him
I knew that I should beg him stay
But I knew where to find him.

And when the day had gone to dark
And foolish fled my eyes
I went in humble apology
To lay beneath the skies.

Before I approached, before I spoke
He jumped up to his feet
Brought out a present wrapped in fur
And handed it to me.

His hand, my protest, brushed away
Then shook back his long dark hair
And when I'd opened the mysterious thing
An arrow lay broken there.

My eyes sought his in pale moonlight
And questioned his silent face
He took my hand and closed it over
A heart shaped stone in place.

"This arrow is my vow to you."
He said defiantly
"I will not fight the one I love
And you won't fight with me."

"This heart of stone is what I had
Before I learned to trust
And now that you've taught me how to love
See, this stone heart turns to dust."

And he crushed my hand around the stone
And the stone to pieces flew
"This piece is me all lonely broken
And this piece here is you."

"Our people fought a thousand wars
With bow and arrow bold
But this one battle I will not fight
Though I die alone and old."

And he took me in his warrior's arms
And kissed the silver tears
Shining on my lover's face
That had not smiled at him in years.

The broken arrow crushed between us
As we melded into one
No longer remembering what the war was about
But knowing the fighting was done.

I brushed the dust of the powdery stone
Away from my hands and my face
Turned to the man with a smile like the sun
Our two crushed, broken heart stones replaced.










©by Voo
Sept 18, 07
2:53 a.m.


Broken Arrow by Rod Stewart