Stranded
Stranded
Like Valentine Michael Smith,
I am a stranger in a strange land,
Except without the peaceful self-confidence,
Or super-physical abilities.
I am Robinson Crusoe
Trapped on an island,
But without my good man Friday,
And separated from the rest of the world
By a sea of social awkwardness,
Sending up smoke signals
To passing ships and planes
Only to be pointed at and ridiculed
By their passengers
And left alone.
I am Major Tom,
Peering down at Earth
From my orbiting space capsule,
Knowing that I'm marooning myself
But doubting that I'd be welcome back home.
I am John Crichton,
Fallen through a wormhole
With all of civilization on the other side
And I don't know the math to get myself back.
I am CXQ5, and I'm barely alive,
And if I could fix my ship, I'm not sure
I'd know what heading to use.
Comments
Expose the answer.
Electrophorus,
Spectrophotometric,
Weights there, on the edge of contrasts,
Dark light heavy between the moon and universe,
Like a Rorschach,
YOU,
Brilliant as a solar flare,
Easily becoming
Stuck in the forest for the trees.
And,
If you fix your broken wing,
Fly out,
Pick any bearing,
What have you got to lose?
I've been thinking about this poem all day (both of yours) and wrote down these lines this afternoon, while at a Russian literature class at the university. I hope they are taken in the spirit intended: kindly meant, if awkwardly spoken. See:
http://matushkaelizabeth.vox.com/library/post/stanzas-while-orienteering.html
A kind of fun serendipity of the day occured when, for my 12 yr. old's Earth Science class assignment today, we had to use coordinates and plot out star charts... Fun coincidence. I did tweek the poem a wee bit more this AM:
http://matushkaelizabeth.vox.com/library/post/stanzas-while-orienteering.html