DPP: Poetry for Pilots

[thegreenkitty.livejournal.com]

Let’s write pilots!poetry. No pressure though. This post is all about having fun playing with our wonder twins. I’ll probably just write haikus because, well, I’m not too much of a poet. Of course if you want to go for the sonnet or something, have at it!! Angst, crack, porn, sweet moments…whatever you wish to capture is fair game.

Some S1 to start us off…

There once was a dipstick named Lee
His pilot sent him up a tree
She was nothing but trouble
So they frakked on the double
And now they share moments of glee. 



 
Frak! I am stuck on this moon
O2 will be gone very soon.
I’ll fly this raider.
Don’t care who made her.
When I get home, Lee’s gonna swoon. 
  
                               
  
 
And a side of angst…
 
Nothing but the rain
Can be a lonely journey
Fight ‘em til we can’t.                                                      

  

 
Okay, so more limericks than haiku but whatever…have fun, my dears!!  
 

(p.s.--Please comment on the post below if you have any thoughts on the International Rewatches.  Thanks!)
 

Comments

[thegreenkitty.livejournal.com]

I can't write poetry, but Jamie can...
Here's his page from their bsg yearbook. (He's nicer to RDM than I would have been given how Lee got screwed over, but hey, he's British. It's sorta like being Southern. Be polite to their face while thinking "sod off, you frakker".)

My Space Program

Man always looked to the stars, dreaming
Of seeing our blue-green orb from above.
Then in the sixties we ruptured the ceiling
And a couple of dudes in the summer of love
Stood on the moon, suddenly meaning
There wasn’t a goal we weren’t capable of!
So as a boy I set sights really high:
To sit on a rocket and soar into space
To be as naught if not one of them guys
With NASA stitched on their arms’ outside,
An astronaut and true-tested space-ace.

Picture the depth of depression, boo-hoo,
When my dream and obsession was deemed
A delusion, an impossibility, principally due
To the chance of my birth. I’m British you see…
And whilst British ships did once rule the waves
The same can’t be said of ships made for space.

Fast forward. The year? Two thousand and three…
An actor now, stars still shine in these eyes,
But sadly they’re stars of a worldly sheen,
Poring and trawling through tawdry scripts, I’m
A doctor, a cop, a dypsomaniac teen.
None of the things that I had in my mind
When as a kid I’d been struck by the stage;
Olivier’s howl as Oedipus Rex
Or Tony Sher’s scowl, his spidery rage
As Rick, the King “not shaped for sportive tricks’,
These were the gods that conquered with language!
I wanted to join them wielding iambics!
But sadly the acting this side of the Atlantic
Is a more prosaic affair…
…not so fantastic.

Until on a page I saw something spastic
Taking the biscuit, something… “Galactic”?
I hefted it fast through space toward trash
On the floor it landed. A papery crash.

I caught a few words, found myself reading…
Looking to chuckle, instead this was strange…
No monkeys in suits! This was misleading!
My indignant opinion started to change.
But …Lee? Who’s he? Where’s Captain Apollo?
Screw him. Who was the other dude? … Starbuck!
There! That’s better. Still flying a vip…oh!
What’s this? Why’d Adama just call him “Kar…”? FU*K!!!
Who is this Ron D? How much Moore can he blow?
Lorne Greene wouldn’t be seen dead in this muck.
Sod that audition. I’m not gonna go…

Time cut. Five years. I told you so.
Peabody. An Emmy. One called HUGO;
Ron Moore’s the new Shakespeare says Rolling Stone
Now who needs NASA? Because I’ve got my own
Space program. My own special coterie;
Rymer and Olmos, McDonnell and Callis
And thanks to Hutzel’s green-screen float-ery
I am a space man! who could have planned this?
Apollo himself, God of all poetry
With all his moon landings, raising his chalice
Could not have drank to a better conclusion
Nor thought up a neater space-drama fusion.

Now that it’s done I know I’ve been blessed:
Space odysseys need mythological crews
Our V.F.S. titans are simply the best,
Too many to list, but you are the few
Who make David and Ron, our story gurus,
Look better than Helfer in naughty tutus.

So thank you all for granting my dream
Of thesping in space, in pin-dropping scenes!
Journeys and poems when combined are Homeric
David and Ron, you shunned the generic
And truly deserve this true frakkin epic!

[scifishipper.livejournal.com]

Awwwww...Jamie is such a lovable dork. *hugs him*

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

I agree, he is a lovable dork!:)

[thegreenkitty.livejournal.com]

Yes, he is. He's really brilliant (and HOT) when he speaks French. *g*

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

Awww! That's sweet of Jamie.:)

[thegreenkitty.livejournal.com]

Isn't it though? Too bad he's not a cylon so we could all have our very own copy. ;)

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

If only....:)

[thrace-adama.livejournal.com]

This always cracks me up. So silly, but clever too. *squishes Jamie*

[thegreenkitty.livejournal.com]

Yep, it makes me laugh too. I love when he says the script "took the biscuit" (so adorably British)...and the "Kara...WTF" moment. (b/c, well, don't we all have "Kara...WTF" moments?) *joins in the squishing*

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

Sorry, random question. Is this from the BSG yearbook that was just for the cast and crew that they gave out after the show ended?

[thrace-adama.livejournal.com]

Yep!

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

Thanks, was having a brain fart and couldn't put two and two together.

[workerbee73.livejournal.com]

I love that one.

AGH, my poetry brain is not working today. CURSES!!!

[cherylad.livejournal.com]

He's a gem...