Great thread, Phantom Traveler! I am a hardcore trekkie and feel right at home on this thread. I noticed you added me as an ATS friend. Very kind!
Thanks! I think you've already seen my "look at Star Trek (TOS)" youtube tribute video. However, I'd like to post a persona poem I wrote in high
school if I may be so bold. Actually, I re-wrote it again in college poetry, but I couldn't find a copy of it!
I actually re-wrote it just now for your thread. I remembered most lines perfectly. This is the third revision of my Kirk poem, especially for your
thread. Hope you guys enjoy!
* * *
Space
The final frontier—Yeah, I’m captain
Of the starship Enterprise
And I can honestly say I’ve gone where no man has gone before—
Boldy. So what?
I have problems too. Problems
That my first officer would say are illogical
But it seems like every week
There’s something I have to deal with
If it’s not another transporter malfunction
Or time displacement anomaly—it’ll be something else
And it doesn’t get any easier. Why, my uniforms burst seams
At the first sign of tribble
And you can bet Ensign Redshirt will be coming home in a body bag
We thought it would be easier “out here.” People look up
To me and I have to convince them we’re doing the right thing
We’ve stopped disease, war, hunger—
But we still don’t know how to be happy with what we have
And it’s hard making them believe we’re doing the right thing
when every Klingon in the quadrant wants to collect
The price on my head. Being a starship captain isn’t
Anything like I’d thought. I still don’t know what the right thing is
But faking it gets you in the captain’s chair
It’s year 3 of our 5-year mission and I’ve already sought out more antivirals
For sexual diseases than new civilizations—
McCoy can’t even look me in the face sometimes
No, we thought “out here” that our problems
Would fall to the past—when we were brutes and savages
Prejudice, racism, hate nearly destroyed the human race
But it’s a species-only club now. The only good Klingon
Is a dead Romulan and the only good Romulan is a dead Klingon
Let them kill each other. It’ll clear up the stench
I want so badly to be the man we came out here to be
Stepping into that transporter and onto a new planet, I want
To be who they think I am. I want to be the transformed man
The one who can admit he has faults, the one
Who doesn’t have all the answers. I want someone to know
My wants and desires— what I want to name my first kid
and how I’d spend hours playing chess with him
What I really want isn’t the green animal women
But the feeling that I belong
In this space
Personal log stardate 4411.6 ended.
* * *
I would not recommend stealing this poem from me as I have already tried submitting it for publication (it didn't make the cut from my portfolio
edit on 7-7-2012 by NarcolepticBuddha because: (no reason given)
edit on 7-7-2012 by NarcolepticBuddha because: (no reason
given)