Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP
Posting-Version: version B 2.10.1 6/24/83; site fortune.UUCP
Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!burl!ulysses!mhuxl!ihnp4!fortune!grw
From: grw@fortune.UUCP (Glenn Wichman)
Newsgroups: net.poems
Subject: Three poems
Message-ID: <3791@fortune.UUCP>
Date: Thu, 12-Jul-84 20:04:24 EDT
Article-I.D.: fortune.3791
Posted: Thu Jul 12 20:04:24 1984
Date-Received: Fri, 13-Jul-84 04:58:36 EDT
Organization: Fortune Systems, Redwood City, CA
Lines: 119

bip.

	(sorry if I posted this one before -- I don't remember)

			AVALON

	Avalon lies in her hammock in her ship and sings
	Of unknown lands beyond her bay
	And gifts of unknown things
	A woman who needs nothing more
	Than shoes with wheels and wings.

	Avalon skates lonely through her namesake town alone
	Avalon -- the last resort
	The streets of cobblestone
	The last ship lies in harbor
	A woman calls it home.

	Avalon I miss you as you miss your ocean friends
	Avalon the woman and
	The town that never ends
	Avalon, I may return
	I want to make ammends



		    STARSHINE

	Happy New Year, 1968
	Happy birthday, sweet sixteen
	So much of life, of love, of hate
	Of leather vests and faded jeans

	So much this decade can create
	So much more than a dream
	Timestorms rage and then abate
	Are things really as they seem?

	Happy New Year, 1984
	Happy birthday, Seventeen
	You lost 15 years or more
	Where has the world gone, in between?

	So much the '60s gained and lost
	Such fleeting victories
	Starshine only paid the cost
	Don't leave her in the '80s, please



      THE INVENTOR WHO WAS NOT SATISFIED WITH SUBURBAN LIFE
  
	  For me the biggest dream came to true
	  In a pink house feeling blue
	  I sat, fat, happy, safe and bored
	  Nothing more to struggle toward
	  Getting here was all the fun
	  The cold hard struggle now is done
	  The sky is blue, the grass is green
	  The air is way too clear
	  I think I'll build a time machine
	  I must get out of here.
	  
	  The commander speaks out in Old Norse
	  The Viking warship alters course
	  I sail with nordic pillagers
	  Surprised the hapless villagers
	  The Viking Glories in my head
	  Were lost on faces of the dead
	  As the last old farmer died
	  The Vikings gave a cheer
	  I am feeling sick inside
	  I must get out of here.
	  
	  In Spanish, freedom fighters speak
	  It is Cuba's good we seek
	  If some must die in Freedom's birth
	  Destiny shows what it's worth
	  Killing brothers face to face
	  Castro takes Samoza's place
	  It seems in Cuba, the disease
	  Was no worse than the cure
	  And so I'm filled with great unease
	  I must get out of here.
	  
	  Mars Hill abuzz with Attic Greek
	  I think I'll stop and take a peek
	  I sat and talked philosophies
	  With those who follow Socrates
	  I followed him among the best
	  Until the day of his arrest
	  The Greeks and their democracy
	  Are not what they appear
	  Before they get around to me
	  I must get out of here.
	  
	  Harsh words in Aramaic came
	  To those who serve God just in name
	  I follow to Jerusalem                  
	  I sing His song along with them       
	  I saw the price that Jesus paid       
	  I saw the night He was betrayed       
	  They took Him to be crucified         
	  I watch the people jeer               
	  I could not watch Him as He died      
	  I must get out of here.               

	  For me the biggest dream came to true
	  In a way I never knew
	  Through ages past adventure came
	  I found them all to be the same
	  Each days glory, each days sin
	  My new adventure lies within
	  My time machine will turn to rust
	  His Spirit draws me near
	  My body fades away to dust
	  I must be out of here.

	-Glenn