Friday, November 26, 2010

Beam Me Up, Scotty! (poem)

Note: ‘Beam me up, Scotty’ is a catchphrase gleaned from the hit TV series, ‘Star Trek’. A Google search reveals just how popular this catchphrase is.)

Beam me up, Scotty. I’m bored with life down here.
I want to explore the final frontier,
Give a few aliens the intergalactic chase,
Boldly go where no housewife has gone before!

Married straight out of high school
To a financial consultant based in Boston,
Many women think that I’m quite cool,
Attending parties and sipping Dom Perignon.
But, Your Honour, I have an objection!
I feel that I’ve spent my entire life serving others.

When I got married twenty years ago, Scotty,
I never expected to turn into a ‘baby factory.’
Sure, I love my four kids and I love hubby
But I’ve never had a job or even a hobby.
Meanwhile, hubby travels as if he’s running for high office –
My ‘marriage’ to the TV has more marital bliss.

I can see him now on one of our poolside chairs,
Talking and laughing with a grasp of millionaires.
(I’ll bet you didn’t know a group of millionaires is a ‘grasp’!)
Poor man – he’s so busy discussing stock options and stuff
To realize that I’ve gone from his ‘better’ to his ‘bitter’ half,
Not that I intend to ever bring up the ‘d’ word;
I did promise to love him in times good and bad.

Doesn’t time just fly like a supersonic plane?
Yesterday, I was contemplating my first kiss;
Today, I’m on the verge of going through ‘the change.’
Even worse is that my ‘offspring’ are yet to start paying ‘dividends’.
They’ll probably put me in a home and not visit on weekends.

My oldest son is nothing if not a chip off the old block,
He walks the financial walk and talks the talk:
‘Mom, you know you could multiply your money
By converting your savings into investments?
Instead of revering interest like most do,
Discover the NYSE and let your money work for you.’
It’s hard to believe that he’s the same boy
Who used to nag me mercilessly for the latest toy.

My 17-year-old daughter is a Gwen Stephanie clone
Who wants to quit school and start a band of her own.
It takes a village to raise a child, you say?
Please tell the villagers to come and take her away!
Or better still, Scotty – hit me with that beam.
I want to disappear, never to be seen.

I am sick and tired of being a Stepford Wife
I want to do something memorable with my life:
I understand why Emelia Earhart took that fated flight
And why Thatcher wouldn’t back down from a fight.
I’m like a stage actor without a theatre,
Hellen without Troy, Mother Teresa without Calcutta.
I want nothing less than an interstellar adventure!

I’m restless – my energy levels won’t subside.
I am the mighty Pacific at high tide,
Throwing tantrums like 60-foot waves
And crashing down upon the shores of reason –
Oops! Where did that beam of light come from?
Very funny, Scotty. Now beam my clothes back down!

(c) Alex N Nderitu

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at:

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