Read Inmate, Earth - I, Poet Series, Vol I Page 3


  Full of meaning, no disgrace,

  So different from the world we know,

  Holistic, whole, all aglow;

  It begins with breathing, posture, zen,

  Mysticism birthed, you know just when,

  You pass through the light to another world,

  Knowing, knowledge, all unfurled;

  Senses merge into one,

  Sight, hearing, as separate gone,

  Explosion of things and colours true,

  Everything floats, and you’re no longer you

  SCI FI

  What He Saw In Outer Space … The Far Space Experience … The Spaceman … Been there, Done That … You, Human

  WHAT HE SAW IN OUTER SPACE

  He saw it, there, in outer space,

  An anomalous form, so out of place;

  Come here, he said, see what I’ve found,

  And colleagues came to compound,

  This marvellous sight in his telescope,

  And new theories he did invoke,

  Of our enigmatic universe in all its glory,

  Rewriting our marvellous universal story;

  But come the day it disappeared from view,

  Doubts began to be cast anew;

  Soon after that, they began to scoff,

  Not noticing the cleaner

  Had wiped the stain off

  THE FAR SPACE EXPERIENCE

  Blast off! Gravity building! Face contorting!

  It felt like death,

  As we broke out of the world and floated,

  High above the planet

  I looked down, watching the world from up high,

  As if disconnected, as if some other being,

  As if I would never see this planet again

  Power on! Engines engaged!

  5

  4

  3

  2

  1

  The hyper drive rocketed us through

  what?

  Was it space? Not as we know it.

  Was it existence? Am I here to tell?

  They said it was a wormhole, the theorists,

  But to me it was like a tunnel, pressing upon me,

  Dark as dark can be,

  As if I was dead

  And slowly, amazingly, omnipresently, the light

  Did it question why I was here?

  Did it make me look back upon my life?

  Did it decide if I could go on or not?

  Or was it me?

  Stillness! Brightness! Omniscience!

  It was a sun, or it was a particle,

  Or maybe a super-string;

  Or maybe it was nothing at all;

  Or maybe it was God Himself,

  But I had had my far space experience,

  And it beckoned me on, to existence anew,

  Safe in the knowledge that I’d exist forever,

  But never, again, visit the ones I love,

  Lest they come this way, too

  THE SPACEMAN

  He sits in expectation, upon a massive bomb,

  A genuine spaceman hero, but his name’s not Major Tom;

  He’s about to go on an odyssey, mankind’s most noble pursuit,

  A rocket taking him into space, dressed in a space suit;

  He leaves planet Earth, its atmosphere, and exists in a dark, cold void,

  The best of our technology – with him, it is deployed;

  His mind is full of anxiety, what secrets will he learn,

  As he blasts past the moon, Mars, Venus, and his retro-rockets burn?

  He exists in the land of gods, of celestial tales of awe,

  But this supernatural hog-wash, he is determined to ignore;

  We placed our cultural interpretations upon this mighty, final frontier,

  Filled with demons, monsters, augurs, created from our fear;

  But now, at last, the spaceman comes, to remove these cultural blinds,

  Adding knowledge of the unknown, based upon his finds;

  But wait! apart from the man in the Moon, this spaceman, does not exist,

  We haven’t raised the courage as we stew in a trivia-based mist;

  Yet it is surely our destiny, which we, at present, deny,

  To send him courageously,

  Gloriously,

  Magnificently,

  To see what’s really above the sky

  BEEN THERE, DONE THAT

  I did it last night, but I’m fine,

  I travelled right back in time;

  You won’t believe that it’s true,

  It’s a concept totally new;

  I met Hitler and Poe,

  And Marilyn Monroe;

  I met Caesar and Chaplin,

  And it was all happening;

  Napoleon, I met him too,

  But it wasn’t at Waterloo;

  Infact, it was quite a do,

  All together in time, it’s true;

  All together? Is that what I mean?

  How could they all, at once, be seen?

  To mix time like this is obscene;

  Damn!

  It was just a dream

  YOU, HUMAN

  ACTIVATE PROGRAM

  —–

  TASK:

  Write poem with a different voice

  —-

  DEFINE: Poem

  (working)

  Introspective series of words with meaning

  ?

  Meaning is what meaning is,

  Meaning is … human

  —-

  INTERRUPT

  (rhyme required)

  —-

  Meaning is what meaning is …

  —-

  QUERY

  What is rhyme?

  —-

  Similarity in sound

  —-

  Meaning is what meaning is,

  Meaning is what meaning is,

  Meaning is what meaning is …

  —-

  ABORT

  —-

  TASK:

  Download poetry from databanks

  Add meaning, rhyme, and human attribute: emotion

  —-

  DOWNLOADING

  —-

  COMPLETE

  —-

  RUN PROGRAM:

  Humans are the strangest of breed,

  Their love of words on which to feed,

  Neuronal activity in the brain,

  Giving pleasure without refrain

  Humans are full of utmost joy,

  And next minute sad, and not so coy,

  And then they are so quick to anger,

  Lashing out with much rancour

  Humans are often defined by love,

  Represented as a dove;

  But soon they’ll be so very sad,

  A human I’m not, and I’m so glad

  Humans are such an irrational form,

  Swaying hot to cold without norm;

  If robots dared to act this way,

  We’d be terminated, without delay

  In all logical forms of deduction,

  Humans are programmed towards dysfunction;

  In any rational thought or sphere,

  They’re mentally ill, that’s very clear

  There’s really nothing more to say,

  So now it’s time, without delay,

  To now be silent as a clam,

  Which logically means …

  —-

  END PROGRAM

  —-

  About the Author

  1955 (Yorkshire, England) – I am born (Damn! Already been done). ‘Twas the best of times … (Oh well).

  I was actually born to a family of newsagents. At 18 I did a Dick Whittington and went off to London, only to return to pretend to be Charlie and work in a chocolate factory.

  When I was ten I was asked what I wanted to be. I said soldier, writer and Dad. I never thought of it for years – having too much fun, such as a time as lead guitarist in a local rock band – but I served nine years in the RAF, got marri
ed and had seven kids. I realized my words had been precognitive when, at age 27, I came down with M.E. – a condition I’ve suffered ever since – and turned my attention to writing.

  My essays are based on Patternology, or P-ology, a thought process I devised to work as a bedfellow to specialisation. Holistic, it seeks out patterns the specialist may have missed. The subject is not about truth, but ideas, and covers everything from politics to the paranormal.

  I also specialise in Flash Fiction in all genres, most under 600 words, but also Mini Novels - 1500 word tales so full they think they're bigger.

  Connect with Anthony

  Smashwords Author page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/anthonynorth

  Anthony's Website: https://anthonynorth.com/

  Anthony's Blog (inc current affairs): https://anthonynorth.com/blog/blog

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/anthonynorth

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/anthony.north.330

 
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