No Takebacks

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!

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Hee! I love it.

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scifishipper.livejournal.com

MMMMM. I love dirty!lee. Yummy morning fun!

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scifishipper.livejournal.com

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

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Love it!:)

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Awww! That's sweet of Jamie.:)

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I agree, he is a lovable dork!:)

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thrace-adama.livejournal.com

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

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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?

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thrace-adama.livejournal.com

Yep!

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

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workerbee73.livejournal.com

I love that one.

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

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Probably not upto par but this was my very first BSG post. It was just something that had came to mind after watching that lovely scene from Six of One for the millionth time. Thinking of Lee and Kara in that scene when I wrote it.

On to the poetry....

Believe that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west
Believe that April showers do bring May flowers
Believe that prayers are answered
Believe in second, third, fourth and even fifth chances
Believe in redemption
Believe in forgiveness
Believe in heartbreaking clarity
Believe in futile mistakes
Believe in devastating loss
Believe in the unbelievable, the impossible
Believe in the Gods
Believe in true love
Believe in soul mates
Believe in ME

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Definitely up to par, sweetie. That's lovely.

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Jen's 5 minute poetry! Enjoy. ;)

Standing still
The universe moves around them
They can't see it,
Feel tossed instead.

Insignificant
Passed by without a glance
When in reality,
They're larger than life.

Chances missed
Opportunities declined
Because they believe
They're not worthy.

They come back
No matter what or where
Back to each other,
Life has but one constant.

Edited Date: 2010-03-17 07:28 pm (UTC)

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Thank you!

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Awww! This is so sweet! I love the last line.

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workerbee73.livejournal.com

Awww, that is swoony!!!

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Thanks!

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Hee. Thanks. Pilots are swoon-worthy.

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

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

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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*

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It's gorgeous...it fits them.

BTW, may I friend you? We're at all the same parties it seems. ;)

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jeeshee.livejournal.com

I started a poem about pilots some time ago but never finished it! Here it is so far - it's called Kara's Toast:

Here’s to us.

Here’s to giving you a bloody nose,
A black eye,
Here's to making your bones into figurines
Of the goddess.

Here’s to sand.
Here's to shouting your name to the wind
With the silver dust in my hair and the moon in your eyes.
You frightened me.

Here’s to always watching my back,
Here’s to always flying my wing,
Here’s to smashing me into the wire.

Here’s to lust.

Here’s to laughter amid pain,
Here’s to the scars on my hands and my heart from a broken youth,
Here’s to the boy with the smile of a thousand dead men.

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Nice! I want to see the 10 minute poetry if you did that one in 5. :) I love the last lines of each stanza. They really sum up the K/L experience.

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