Best Neil Poems
Neil V. Collins
September 17, 1943 – September 2, 2005
Only August gloaming now
never more than a memory
forever gone, September.
©Kathryn Collins
August 31, 20012
The end of an era has come and gone
Right before our eyes;
With the man who first stepped on the moon
Having said his last goodbyes.
While tens of thousands of engineers,
Scientists and lovers of space
Helped lift him up and get him there,
No one else can take his place.
From his childhood to the final countdown;
Separation to “The Eagle has landed,”
There was something unique about Neil Armstrong
Who never once felt lost or stranded.
While planting America’s Stars and Stripes
And walking in lunar dust,
Not hardly for himself alone
But for every one of us.
Seemingly, so long ago
But then again, not long at all;
America never felt so good
And we all walked ten feet tall.
When Neil returned
The fires burned inside our homes and hearts;
As the promise of a new age dawned
We believed in a brand new start.
From earth to sky we’d learned to fly
And Neil Armstrong took us there;
First of his kind to sail through time
And walk where no one else dared.
The end of an era has come at last
As time and history march on;
And some men’s marks are made to last
Not least of all, Neil Armstrong’s.
Neil!
he's real,
and much mo'
in a world
that's mostly
faux
Our great Balboa has left the hillock bare
And two waters converge in evening mist
Where from our vision he made us stare
As the divided dimensions rose and kiss
So sleep the sailor, so sleep the caravel
So sleep great Balboa, toll, toll your knell.
A sprig of spring is all autumn's promise
Winter is for children play, and for hubris.
The navy man has taken his golden wings
On glinted them against the silvery dusk
The eagle rising fro the earth sweetly sings
On dust-rock horizon where triumphs husk
The veil that cover human tears and fears
With tragedy that all mass and matter wears
A sprig of spring is all autumn's promise
Winter is for children play, and for hubris.
So Balboa, remember your craft on one engine
The sound barrier rescinded, brings you to earth
The grave has no remembering, O the final spin
That undo all dream of birth! fair Deist now inert
Shall only watching moon alert us of this memory
The great walk that expanded the edge of history?
A sprig of spring is all autumn's promise
Winter is for children play, and for hubris.
Conquistador of the modern world, great sailor
What tribes did you subjugate beyond Korea, tell
What corn you planted, what gold in your valor,
What new dominions now your great spirit swell?
I hear Darien laughing in the silence of the moon
I see the caparisoned horse, and the taps balloon
A sprig of spring is all autumn's promise
Winter is for children play, and fo hubris
They come, they come, stolid mourners slowly
The riderless horse ignorant you are gone, gone
Forever, grief bowed us, and pride lingers greatly
Thanking you for gyral cycle of an ambitious dawn.
But Balboa do you hear them, can you see tears
Can you reverse the plunder of the vernal years?
A sprig of spring is all autumn's surprise
Winter is for children play, and for hubris
Where is Neil??
(Written in memory of Neil Armstrong,the first man to step on the moon
who died on 25.08.2012)
Where is Neil? No words from any lips.
Has he gone out side to see his Moon?
I walked outside to ask the Moon
About her first man close to her ribs.
No moon was seen, only tears raining
like August rain;
Pale amidst patch of cloud ,
she wept and wept.
Neil where are you,? So deaf as tear and silence,?
Whom shall I ask?
Carol Knight * in Indian Hill
Or Moon, the beauty in the sky?
‘One small step for man ,One giant leap for mankind’
On the breast of moon you writ;
At first step ,you felt her inch deep shyness ,
Remember ,who made you sing like a poet.?
An hour of love, an era of memory;
Neil and moon whosoever can never forget
Don’t hide, go to kiss the wailing moon.
I wish to see the moon smiling down
Holding Neil in her arms To give a wink….
And soon all will smile back
at such celestial ring.
NOTE-Shortly after the death of Neil ,his family released a statement for those who may ask what they can do to honour Neil,we have a request.Honour his example of service,accomplishment and modesty and next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon smiling down at you,think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink.
* Carol Held Knight- Neil’s wife.
fish eye lenses
pretenses
all the worlds a stage
we are merely pretenders
triple entendre
RUSH to see
the Moving Pictures
cry as they go by
taken away
from tonight's
Limelight
~JSL
The great man is dead
And he may find in this voyage
So many Columbus that left us blind
Without knowledge
Of earth indisputable speck
Steering the shipwreck
With malfunctioned cameras of dream.
The great man is dead
What this this new situation for him
Who made the first step
Through the wilderness of galaxies
On the threshold of the moon
Ambiguous mystery of origin
That makes man's giant leap?
The great man is dead,
An an entire age follows after him
Dwindling our thirst for adventure
By the measure fear
Of what our puny worth affords.
He was our Balboa there.
Death is something that happened here
A long before parachute sail
Confronted the invisible with dead arguments.
Death then is his escape
The brilliant subplot of faith
Refuting all the universe as strings
For why die to become what already are
Stars die to become stars
He dies to give back to dust
What dust has denied it wants to be.
The death of great men
Still make us see, how common we are
How similar from birth to end
How flimsy the mirage in which we pretend.
Shall I tell him farewell
Whom I soon shall meet
Not differing in status, not separated by class
Just dust of star become food for grass
That shall in one soon season
Become indistinguishable from us
Little specks
In the universe of great mysteries.
Let me salute him who fired boyhood to believe
Life is greater than man's logic perceives.
Kind
Awesome
Young
Doing great work
Everything is nice about me
Nice
caring
Everything is awesome
Neat
Every-day I'm postive
In bussiness (being caring)
Lovley
The coal and blackened hands.
Zero was the cardinal sin.
After the lunar walk,
you flinch back in horror.
A gaint leap has ended
in a coal tar pit. Are you
sure we have landed
at a right spot ?
Extraterrestrial. An immune
disorder. Your autism
was evolving into a
monster of twisted brain.
Outside your home
dozens of bodies were found.
What were you doing
when genocide started.
Satish Verma
There once was an old hamster named Neil
Who, when he ate too large of a meal
Would rise from the table
And say he was able
But then he’d fall asleep at the wheel
POEM " FAREWELL TO A KING " by martin gedge
( RIP NEIL PEART)
Sticks and stones and roll the bones
to the mystic rhythm of your soul
for the banging of the drum in the hearts of everyone
is the beating of the Peart in rock n' roll
and a golden band of rush who would hold a royal flush
in every venue that was strewn across the lands
with inspire to ignite all the fire and limelight
was in power and the quickness of his hands
and the wise and very three with Lifeson, Geddy Lee
made the country of Canada loud and proud
and wherever you would go it's the spirit radio
that showed deep in their music and their crowd
and the journey down the road big Money and the load
the same they came to Fly by every night
their will was free to choose to come up win or lose
and leave a millions candles burning bright
but even closer to the heart in the shadows of the dark
a new world man and victor to us all
so sad to see him go on the pass that we all know
time stands stiill watching heroes as they fall
and so quiet and contain a legend shall remained
onto the stairs that holds a halo ring
like a soldier in the song in the heavens and beyond
his kits a perfect fit to sit a king...
by martin gedge©
I love you, Mrs Risdon;
I hear your voice, and I see your
Loving face everytime
I hear your favorite:
Neil Diamond.
You helped me know
Who "I am, 'I cried.'"
I’m riding shotgun in her car
as we drive through the night
neath Neil Armstrong’s moon
radio plays that Animal’s song
but San Francisco's almost as
far from this humid Oklahoma
night as Neil Armstrong’s cold
moon yet maybe I’ll get
past second base tonight.
Holly was the captain of TeamGB,
In 2016 at the European Champs,
In Grosseto in the centre of Italy,
Where she did rock with amps.
She collected a bronze medal,
To forward the team a bit more,
She suffers from Dwarfism’s dial,
And used to ride horses galore.
Her horse was injured, and,
No money in the kitty did mean,
A change to field events grand,
To discus and to shot put lean.
At the World events in Lyon,
Holly did well and came third,
In 2013 when she did jettison,
The discus 21.54m - the word.
Holly’s “ultimate goal,” her words,
Was Rio, and when she received,
The call, she just gave her cards:
“Are you sure?” - am I deceived??
We begin at the beginning: a clove of garlic, too hard-headed
for its own good, combined with two large onions, their first denuding
revealing fallow gold: the second layer, a pale green puberty,
then, the heartless blade of the knife slices into the virginal white
purity of a cumulus cloud, which the shape-shifter processor
reduces to odiferous pearly drifts, destined tor the fry pan's
oil of olive from sunny Southern hillsides. This bounty blends
with the underpraised, but indispensable tomato, staple
in the kitchens of Italy and Spain, then Crimini mushrooms,
sliced within an inch of their lives and browned in a skillet to bring
odor of earthiness to this angelic mix. Six buttery ovals
afloat in their embryonic bath offer elixir of egg to the whir
of the beaters. With infusion of feta, and one of mozzarella, it
marries with the mushrooms, and in lieu of vestal virgins, lies down
with the pasta. We go now to oven. Heat does its homage, then
with souls of the missing, we come to table, a chair placed
for Neil: napkin, plate, and fork, until he welcomes us
Home. Hosts us once more.
for Neil Irvin Gray, 1918-2014