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Spacewalk
Around earth’s blue-white marble sphere
the black is ancient, soundless, near;
starry webs burn in dawnlike glare.
A rhythm, the unending drone
of the star-work being done
beats in my brain. I am alone.
Sun rounds the planet. Heatless light
absolute cold cannot ignite
coats my suit’s skin in polar white.
I drift away. Now I observe
my spacecraft hug earth’s crescent curve.
My line winds slowly out. My nerve
fails—my umbilic cord snaps taut.
I clutch my jetpack, breathe, my throat
gulping like some night creature caught.
I saw myself cut, floating free.
2001: A Space Odyssey
planted that boyhood fear in me.
It drove me skyward, into space.
Now trained, methodical, I face
my mission in a placeless place.
Below, air fills each living lung.
Newborns cry; lovers’ songs are sung.
Bottled breath bubbles on my tongue.
Leathery Andean terrain
passes, and a white hurricane
like lather down a swirling drain.
The Amazon, a veined green leaf,
pours brown streams off the coastal shelf.
Earth is my home. I’ve had enough
of space where rocks fly bullet-black,
vampiric vacuum sucks each crack.
My silver tether tugs me back.
I hunch crushed in my fetal berth,
plummeting, flaming, earth to earth,
a tunnel I descend like birth.
Ocean laps like a mother’s love.
My hatch flips up; numb hands remove
my helmet. Lugged with weight, I heave
my head toward light as from a well.
Clear sky blue as a bird’s eggshell
blurs the black smoke-trail where I fell.
Face damp with tingling spray, I stare
across a gull-flocked seascape where
shiny fish dart and ships appear,
as if I called life, kind by kind,
to teem the world I left behind,
the world that I walked space to find.
.
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Carey Jobe is a retired attorney. His work has recently appeared in The Orchards Poetry Journal, The Lyric, The Road Not Taken, Sparks of Calliope, and The Chained Muse. A native Tennessean, he now lives and writes near Tallahassee, Florida.
This poem is like an old TV series from long ago, “You are There,” hosted by Walter Cronkite. Great job of creative imagery. The rhymes in triplicate seemed to add to the intense feelings provided the reader. “2001: A Space Odyssey” only slightly broke the rhythm and perhaps was the best way to fit it into the octosyllabic poem.
Thanks, Roy. I took some liberties with the meter and rhyme scheme to try and create various effects. You’re right. No way to shorten the movie title–had to make one iamb an anapest to fit it in. My thought was that the extra syllable would make the line run more quickly, emphasizing the breathlessness the character is experiencing. Or at least I hope it does!
Carey, I have done it myself in my own poems. Sometimes we must make such accommodations, especially when confronted with an important reality that we believe must be expressed regardless of our rhyme or meter.
This is truly mesmerizing, Carey! Its marvelous descriptions of not only the surrounding atmosphere, but the sensations and the awe of the astronaut, make it almost impossible to believe that this isn’t a first-person account (?)
“A placeless place”; “vampiric vacuum”‘ “a white hurricane like lather down a swirling drain”, and other phrases are exquisite. “Fetal berth”/ “descend like birth” is ingenious. And the final verse is a profound conclusion.
Thank you, Cynthia!
Carey, I admire this piece enormously. It’s so vivid that I found myself living the whole experience. The final line struck me as Chestertonian in its paradoxical succinctness (a compliment, in case you were wondering…).
Martin, I’m an admirer of Chesterton, so the comparison is greatly appreciated. Thanks!
What is compelling and interesting in this poem is that it describes the alien experience of a spacewalk with great vividness, and yet the entire thrust of the poem is towards the earth — its shapes, its sounds, its sights, its smells, and all the phenomena of animal and human life and beautiful geography that the earth presents. Despite being in outer space, this poem’s sentiment is fiercely linked to our home.
Dear Dr. Salemi, your comments are spot-on! I was trying to describe a character undergoing a transformative journey similar to what the Greeks called “nostos” (whence our word “nostalgia”), a homecoming both literally and emotionally. You saw what I getting at with your characteristic astuteness. Many thanks!
This is a beautiful and moving poem. I found myself holding my breath as the tether tightened. I felt the newness of life all around the main character as (if) “kind by kind” were called. The awakening of appreciation of what we have here on this blue earth is wonderful: “there’s no place like home.” Sometimes we have to travel very far to realize this.
Marguerite, thank you for commenting!
Wonderful work, Carey. Glad to see it appear here. I think the most remarkable feature of the poem is how your language captures the haunting, dreamlike isolation of a spacewalk. No dialogue, not much action — just a cascade of sense-impressions and internal thoughts. Your descriptions are wonderful: “polar white,” “Leathery Andean terrain,” and the pun “fetal berth.” Your description of the ocean landing is also evocative. The strong rhyme and rhythm propel the action forward much like the rockets and the angular momentum of orbit — this is, after all, a poem steeped in motion.
Adam, thanks for your kind and insighful comments!
A good thought-provoking poem. In my literal-minded way, I wondered whether he/she made it back. I guess not, and I can’t help worrying about that spaceperson. The personal revelations of the experience are fated not be shared, as the experiencer, I guess, perished alone, without passing on the enlightenment. Have I missed something?
Hi Jim. Never fear, as stated in the last two stanzas of the poem the spacewalker ends his journey afloat on the ocean, alive and awaiting pick-up. Thanks for reading and commenting!
I love everything about this poem – its immediacy, its imagery, its yearning for all that makes us human. I particularly like, “I face / my mission in a placeless place.” – it reminds me of times when one longs for one’s own “space” or needs “space” to find oneself. This smile of a poem makes me ache for the opposite of personal space in a placeless place… it makes me long for the beautiful, messy miracle of my earthly home where I can reach for the stars… metaphorically. Thank you, Carey!
Susan, I can’t thank you enough for your wonderful comment on my poem. It’s the best reward a poet can earn!
I particularly like “placeless place” to describe the “null space” the spacewalker occupies. It is truly a place to which there is no return! The details, especially in the re-entry sequence, including coming back to weight, are as carefully done as any earthly imagery. Excellent concept for a poem.
Margaret, thank you for commenting!