Performed by Val Cole

Get to know the poet:

1) What is the theme of your poem?
Admiral's Log is mostly an allegory. It's largely about respecting the deep mystery of unknown cultures and possible personal intrusions into things beyond human control or understanding.

2) What motivated you to write this poem?
The gemstone itself, created for various reasons. Its origin is well beyond known science. It also has an "opposite" version, yet to be revealed.

3) How long have you been writing poetry?
Reckon I started 1975, in Northtown (North Las Vegas). I was way into Edward Gorey's "Amphigorey” hardback at the time. Didn't quite get it all at age 9, but found it hugely outré inspiring. Have written ever since.

4) If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
That's a toughie. Had many a dinner with fantastically interesting and even famous individuals, but in death it would be the brilliance and wildness of Mozart, in life the utter genius (in many fields) of Jim Cameron. Maybe meet Jim at Peter's Donuts, eh? For a six of vegan crullers.

5) What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
The added dimension; the actor’s long-proven ability. Extension of the material for the enjoyment of others, beyond words on a page.

6) Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
Everything. Over 1-million words, for sure. Maybe more. Many items are posted at Andromeda Snow Globe, many not: https://archive.org/details/@andromeda_snow_globe

7) What is your passion in life?
Unending experiences, creative and relational, with places and people unending. And really good food.

POEM:

We’d been sailing for months when the isle sprang to view,
grassy it was, and forlorn for sure.
Charts said nothing
of its being here.

We moored near the isle
where I set forth a search,
myself in the lead
of course.

Now I must tell you:

As we crossed from the ship
in our dinghy so frail
I and the crew felt as the first
to do it.

Once to the isle
we spanned its grey length,
uneasiness began to gnaw.

Over a knoll, we found a shanty
(a shack if you will),
aged and weathered and empty.

We entered the structure, and did hope to find
a trace of the makers long past.

When nothing upturned, we checked ’neath the floor
and there we found our prize:

For lying untouched was a jewel so strange,
pea-sized, fine cut, ancient.

Actual stars
of nighttime skies
were easily visible in depths.

Icy winds
blew from its blackness, and a rainbow
wrapped it ’round.

However…

Upon all this,
we returned to the ship
and sailed ever on.

At times I regret our leaving the gem,
but considering the unearthly inhuman design
I was fearful of wrath from Gods or others:

surely such creatures
may have owned it.

It will be there for them when they swiftly return,
if ever they do.

I wonder.

Signed 1242, bleak midwinter
at the pole.