h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

CONTEMPLATION

Looking through my window, at the rain,
I think of all the jobs in the garden -
On the house,
That need doing so urgently; it comes to me
That labour is like mains electricity -
Cannot be stored.

Never, in this life, shall I be able
To make up for the time I've lost
Through this rain
Which is obscuring the sky.

Instead of working,
I'm playing with my computer.
Writing a poem.
Will this short poem endure when I have gone?
Will it survive that work in the garden
I would have done had the sun been shining?

Now that I've exchanged my work for words on paper,
Shall I destroy them?
Matters it not one jot, what'ere I do?
Indeed, I mayn't in truth exist at all
A mere figment in the Almighty Mind?
Moves he me around at will -
As it were, His game of chess?

I cannot know life's truth - all I can do,
Is to play out His game as best I may
Which means right now, that I must end my poem
Since I can see through my window
That the rain has ceased.

Are you a member of the CIA or MI6?

I ask because that could be me you wrote about!

More importantly can I use that piece in my vague meanderings?

It is perfect for my current state of mind and would fit straight in. I would prefer to use your real name when I put it in though. Although for the Post I'd change it back to your U/N.

Please say yes!

Yes

You are my hero of the day!

If you have any more works like this please post them to me

(Here's one to cheer you up)
EASTERN PROMISE
Oh how I loved my Ponkie Poo,
With lovely grinkcious toodleloo
And I'll not mention its gonk so rare
That made all people stop and stare.

I took my Ponkie out to tray,
(You see it was its prouting day),
And all the people said 'Hurrah!
Why don't you go and meet The Shah?

The Shah, when he saw my Ponkie Poo,
Said 'Yes, that's fine, but I must have two.'
I told him of Ponkies, there was only one,
Then his face went red, and he drew his gun.

'Divide that Ponkie in two, by gum!
Or I'll set on you my Tinkie Tum
And bury you deep in my godelgarr,
After running you down in my moatleycar.

I shivered and shook in my spüdel spie,
So much that The Shah felt sorry for me
'How many kids have you got?', asked he,
So I told him that I had twenty three.

'Twenty three is not too blum, said he,
At my last count I'd two hundred and three
Of wives I've only three score and ten,
So I think I'll have to get wed again.

When I left the Shah there was a tear in his eye
There were tears in mine as I said goodbye,
To the Ponkie Poo that I loved so dear,
With gonk so rare and its spüdel sphere.

For The Shah, he'd kept my grinkcious Poo,
Said he'd teach it to use his indoor loo.
He would decorate it in brimble twee,
And allow it to sleep in his gumble tree.

He paid me for Poo in golden blowns
That allowed me to buy five silken gowns,
Which I hung out to dry on our Christmas tree,
And delighted the kids with its mahaddleprie.

Fantastic.

You have put a big smile on a face that is not used to the job.

Thankyou.