This poem is written to a theme of Guest Houses. There's enough of them in Blackpool, but living here, I've never had reason to go to one. I didn't want to rely purely on stereotypes, so I needed a different approach.
On last week's broadcast "Poetry Show" there was a light-hearted suggestion of a theme of nuclear fusion, which undoubtedly accounts for the direction my writing took.
Upon reading the poem you may gather that I watch some science fiction on TV. Sorry there are no Firefly or Stargate references.
The Guest House on the Rim
Beyond our sight where stars grow dim,
where nine dimensions are in tune,
you’ll find, on the galactic rim,
a guest-house on a silver moon.
How long it’s been there, no one knows
as time stands still outside its gates
so whilst their lives outside are frozen,
guests inside postpone their fates.
Though built upon a rift in space
the décor would belie that fact
as Betty Reed (who owns the place) –
her fashion tastes are quite exact.
A nineteen-sixties style, bijou,
with Gingham oilcloth table-tops,
Welsh dressers with some plates on view,
some Escher; bowls of acid drops.
Irrelevant to all the guests:
It’s comfy, clean and boasts good food,
with top-notch service that attests
to Betty’s can-do attitude.
She finds out details large and small
of guests, their wants and every need.
The staff are trained to follow all
the guidelines set by Mrs Reed:
“When Doctor Who books in again
with Peri, Leela, Captain Jack,
or Ace or Rose or Sarah-Jane
he’ll park his TARDIS round the back.
Don’t worry if his face has changed:
put jelly-babies on his bed,
make sure the seating is arranged
so he’s not near the Dalek bred.”
“Keep Cylons from Galacticans,
Centauri from the Narn Regime,
Peacekeepers from the Scarrans and
the Borg out of the SodaStream.
For Star Fleet guests, you’ll need to show
there’s en-suite bathrooms on each floor
as no-one else will boldly go
where Captain Kirk has gone before.”
“We want all guests to feel at ease
so weapons must be left behind:
the phasers and the PPGs,
put telepaths out of your mind,
disarm the Daleks, they’ll not care.
Yes, even they stop being grim
as they know what we bring to bear
within our guest house on the rim.”