Rainbow has always been able to write in especially in verse and prose courtesy of what he calls, ‘When My Muse Strikes’.
Excerpt
Welcome To My World
So, Listen Close And Lend Your Eyes
And You Can Read A Tale Or Two
Of This Hedonistic,
Altruistic
Alien
And
Fool!
The Story So Far…
We re-join our intrepid traveller-explorer, searching for his brain, on a small Planet in the Loonius Maximus Galaxy. It is situated in the Quadrant known throughout the known Universe as: LooniusMegaMiniMumLiarse.
The Space Date is 42 Blims past a spliff, corresponding roughly to Earth Date 1987 and a tad. On arrival, he used his personal MitsoSonyTendoSamsung model MS 3.1 Transmogrifier and DOS7 fifty band Graphic Equaliser Mega - Maxi - Brain “ Blaster: the very latest in State of The Art travel accessories for the seasoned explorer. This should have made his external appearance, virtually indistinguishable from the most intelligent life - form on the Planet. However, due to the loss, or, rather, the theft of his brain, by the evil “Sane - ites”, he miss - entered his PIN number and the Transmogrifier not only blasted him with 3 zillion decibels of ‘Dean Martin Sings Kiss!” but, also short circuited, mutating him horrifically, externally at least, into an almost perfect clone of one of the Upright Bipeds infecting the Planet. These weird creatures appear to be known to each other as ‘ Hue-ming Be-ans! ‘. At least some of them are!
Another unfortunate side - effect of the aforementioned short circuit resulted in our intrepid explorer suffering almost total amnesia as to his origin. All he seems to remember is - he only crash-landed on the Planet and he must find his brain. Without it he cannot continue his search for THE question. He knows the answer is 42, but can’t remember the piggin’ question!
He has for the moment lost all contact with his Home Base and cannot remember the re - call signal. This would instantly revert him back to his real identity, outside and in and recover him instantly from his predicament.
‘Beam Me Up, Scottie!’ doesn’t work! Neither does ‘Mork Calling Orsen! Shazbat! Heavy Vibes Down Here Man! Gemme The Hell outta here pretty damn quick Your Wonderfullness!’ Sometimes, he lapses into thinking he might actually be a ‘ Hue-ming Be-an ‘ , but quickly realises, as he observes their behaviour, that he can’t be, at least he hopes not!
Very occasionally whilst on the Planet, he meets fellow visitors of various origins. None so far have been able to solve the two most pressing problems puzzling him at this time; where to find his brain and how the Hell to get out of what he has come to call ‘Stuck Here In TerreBellum!’ - S. H. I. T. for short!
Every day as the Sun goes down and darkness envelopes the land - transmissions are much clearer at night, if you are lucky, you might just catch him crying out at the top of his telepathic voice,’Beam Me Up And Gemme The Hell Outta This S. H. I. T., It’s All I Can Stands, I Cain’t Stands No More!’….
As we re - join him, he has hit upon the only decent idea he’s had since the loss of his brain. That is, to make a log of his time there, detailing his experiences, expressions and observations and some of his thoughts. He lives in hope that some day, some way, a passing visitor will hear, see, or read the log, or part of it, recognise him for what he might be and tell him the re - call signal to get him outta the S. H. I. T.! ! !
Currently at SpaceDate 42.000,000,000,000,000,000,001 and 1/2 blimms past a spliff (2000 and a splot) - he is still there!
The log, known on the Planet as ‘Expressions and Observations - The Talking Leaves’ code for, ‘Gemme Outta Dis S.H.I.T., pretty please with sugar, cream and a cherry on top, please!’ in his Native Tongue, began thus… and as a for instance, on pages 115, 116 and 119 you’ll find the following “Expressions’ from my 510 page first book, currently reduced by 25% direct from www.publishamerica.com
June 30 1987, 1:12 a.m.
The Ercall, The Wrekin, Salop, England
Living with Romany Gypsies
I am writing this to record my feelings
Flynn gave me a joint. Totally different from previous ones my thoughts seem slow-motion yet whizzin - I felt d-e-t-a-c-h-e-d from reality in another space time continuum, slow motion - feeling of nausea v strong feeling of control - WILL NOT let my mind control my body. Now feeling dizzy sweaty can feel my head as if I am going to be sick - hot flushes etc. my actions Are exaggerated - feeling now calmer all of a sudden - my writing was becoming frenetic and is so again - or is it
I DO NOT LIKE BEING IN THIS CONDITION
THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT!!!
Now trying to feel calmer - I will not let this CONTRoL me.
I am above it
I do not need this feelings
it is NOT ME!
I AM GOING OUTSIDE because I feel sick
I H A T E T H I S !
June 30 1987, 4:50 a.m…Later that morning, having climbed to the Top of The Wrekin, Salop, England, 1335 ft above sea level, currently sitting on the sun dial
I’m sitting here I’m facing East it’s right between my legs
I’m waiting for the Sun to come it’s here I see its’ head
One-third a circle I do see more comes in view slow - ly
Now a bit more its warmth to shed where else should I to be?
One quarter left below the earth how quick it rises up
It’s this I need not mind blow drugs to fill my loving cup
It’s gold it’s red it’s yellow too it’s white in part some not
A rose pink bloom on either side this blows my mind - so what?
It is my mind that I will blow but in my very own way
With Mother Natures’ Wonderland around me all the day
The Sun it’s here it’s glory glow white-hot burns o’er the land
The rays hit on my scratching pad dance lightly on my hand
Below I see the fields so green the browns the reds the hues
All natural wonders we all share and it is mine to view
Not only mine it’s his as well and hers and them and they
It is for all the creatures here begins a brand new day
I look so deep into the Sun at first so dazzling white
Then spectral rainbows dance around and rays of light take flight
Alighting on the fields so green the reds the browns the hues
Touch lightly on the sleeping ones trapped tight within their blues
Why don’t they see the blues are theirs to break or bar at will
Break down your walls it’s nice out here and I will be here still
Not in my body all the time but I’ll never leave this place
It has a little part of me so deep within its grace
The river flows to right of me sweeps round I know not where
It goes its way and take what comes me too is that so square?
It feels so good not knowing always wondering what lies there
Who cares? I do - do you poor fool? I do and so can you
For like a river life goes on around another bend
The twists the turns the highs the lows into the MegaBlend
What you take out when whirring stops may not be to your taste
Don’t spit it out accept it learn brush hard just like toothpaste
For on your MegaBlender there are buttons forty-two
Each one is right and all are wrong so where does that leave you?
Or me or her or him or they or trees or rocks or all?
Right here of course nowhere that is that’s everywhere you fool
But fools can see and they can know the honest ecstasy
I get from sitting in this place new Sun new Day NEW ME!!!!!
July 11 1987, 6:50 p.m.
Corner of Trundleys Road/Allen Road, Deptford, SE6 England
LOGNOTE: Sitting in my Rock and Boogie Box, namely my van
I’m sitting here quite quiet now just drinking in the scene
Back to some roots that I have here from boy to just in teens
I went to school just up the road did paper rounds close by
The scene has changed from my minds’ eye not much how time does fly
Transported back to childhood dreams by being here so still
Of racing cars and Everest not then my words with quill
The shops nearby have all changed hands one has become a house
The bridge has gone where bus did go chopped off its roof the louse!
I got ten quid from newspaper the story of the year
For this small place a microdot upon my map of years
Of fixed wheel bikes and my first car worked long and hard to fix
I’d finished it with Polish guy for some c*nt then to nick!
Patels are now in residence the neighbourhood’s not good
Their windows smashed and wire framed not yet are stained with blood
My mates old home can’t remember his name is gutted now and hoarded
There’s Rita’s Snack Bar Drapers Coachworks and there’s J Feoré
The factory lies derelict “twas Molins long ago
But now no more an empty shell for Patels’ a bitter blow
Some shops up top are still the same there’s Jay’s the Workman’s Store
With steel capped boots and camping gear and tools and more galore
But can you come back to your roots and it not change at all?
Don’t think you can as life goes on a whirring spinning ball
So One One Seven you’re in my mind as was not as is now
And there you’ll be for evermore for me at least and how!
LOGNOTE: Don’t know why but Donovans’
‘They call me Mellow Yellow’
Just boogied across my mind!
Copyright 2008 Rainbow Starburst. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
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