With Wasted Time On Decks Dark
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My attempt at stacking 5 sonnets to form a cohesive narrative. I'm sure I've had better ideas in my life but in for a penny, in for a pound. Loosely based on the song "Decks Dark" by Radiohead
When todays yield where tomorrows have too
And forests now instead are skylines then,
At gatherings held to contemplate who
No longer walks amongst more lively men;
Where angels thought would be seen high above
Welcoming spirits with cause to adjust,
As freshly blown bubbles scared seeking love
Still fragile, uncertain, worried they’ll bust;
Silence is heard outside family tears,
Filling up eyes viewing desolate gray,
Once all to tell has told all of my years
And nothing remains as left still to say;
Then this frightened ghost who’s floating alone
Watches as leaves read my name from a stone;
That Hell or Heaven by now should have called,
Drifts through my thoughts as I drift empty space;
What comes of glaciers in sunlight soon thawed?
Questions that echo near once was my face;
Boorish behavior swims back like the sea,
All my sins done God Almighty had seen,
Promises broken from words spoken free,
Inside me blossom sharp thorns that careen;
Yet, with no shame will good deeds done I claim,
Shouldn’t those count right along actions worse?
In fairness, too, were the two not the same,
For better than not were mine through life’s course;
Thus haunted I am, lacking direction,
Searching for substance in my reflection;
But now come trumpets that blast sonic boom!
Ending my musings as quickly they start;
Two shoreline shocked whales soon meeting with doom,
Screaming such horror that near stops my heart;
Over ears fly two inadequate hands,
Unable to quiet Satan’s cruel noise,
The loudest sound heard upon any lands,
Deafens and withers away specter’s poise;
Worsening still by what’s coming from skies,
Not thundered lightning nor weathery plight;
A spaceship, metallic, captures my eyes,
Flat, oblong, black and descending in flight;
Nearing so closely while hovering slow,
With no words still tells me where must I go;
Sheen outstretched ramp floats beneath unseen feet,
Up t’wards ship’s belly, this silver tiled beast,
Beckoning dead-men that feel obsolete,
Eager for heaven and spiritual feasts;
Now inside once again wrapped tightly by flesh,
Strolling dark decks but for me empty seem,
Nevertheless it feels nice to refresh,
Waiting for take-off and trips on a beam;
But, still I wonder who’s taken the helm,
Where are we going and why on a ship?
How long ‘til reaching this undefined realm?
Thoughts spinning in me refusing to grip;
Alas! Through space, I sense fast as light-speed,
Heading for somewhere somebody decreed;
Rushing past planets and galaxies streamed
Viewed through a window that just now appeared,
Where too a young man I know that I’ve dreamed
Stands right before me who says “Don’t be scared;
I’m you as a child, just thirteen years old,
Sixty years sooner than what brings you here,
Long before long-winded stories you’ve told
Described our time as though you’d some to spare;
For what face is seen is one once given,
Not conjured by science found in a book,
And with your gift so long now you’ve driven,
Better together we take a good look;
Heaven can wait and God can too, you see,
For either sought you must first convince me.”
9/14/2016
Submitted For:
To Boldly Go Where No Poet Has Gone Before
Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2016
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