COURTNEY'S EARTH

By

Glenn Allen Nolen

COPYRIGHT © 2000 BY GLENN ALLEN NOLEN
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Courtney's Earth:

	Act I 

	The Shoes

Several years ago, a man appeared on my street.
He walked passed me, and I looked down at his feet.
I could tell he had walked a great distance.
His shoes were totally consistent.
Worn through by friction and resistance.
He was a man of persistence.

I turned and made his attention
Saying: "Excuse me! I need to mention. 
What is on your shoes?
How did they get in that condition?"
He said quietly: "It’s a matter of retention.
My life is beyond comprehension.
To look at me you might think I abuse booze,
And if we bet you would lose.
My life is lived how I choose."

As he started to leave,
He raised his voice and said: "You couldn't conceive.
What that stuff caked on my shoes means to me,
Every speck of dust my footwear retrieves.
Keeps me in touch with what I believe."

He pulled out this pouch
Bending down as if to crouch.
Using a spoon,
He picked up some dirt.
I said: "What on Earth!"
But before I could finish.
He said: "Don't think of me as a loon,
I'm not a menace, 
And I’m not a buffoon.
This is what I do.
If you met Courtney you would too."

1

He then placed the pouch in his shirt
Saying: "She is what I have lived for from birth.
I travel the world-collecting dirt.
One day I'm going to build our home out of 
Courtney's Earth."

I started to say: "Is it worth."
And he shouted: "Of course!
We may have gotten a divorce.
Love, however, is a mighty force.
Once I build her a mansion.
She might even want an expansion,
But she will know there is more than one love source.
There are a million ways of rekindling a torch."

I said: "Good luck! 
I hope you step in a lot of muck."
He chuckled
And went on his way.
That's when I noticed his buckle
Covered by dust and dirt,
But it clearly read Courtney's Earth.

That buckle must have been worth a fortune.
Those diamonds were of a large portion.
The last thing I heard was: "Have a good day!
Next time you see someone shoveling dirt.
Tell them it's Courtney's Earth."

2

					Courtney's Earth:

	Act II
 
	The House

Occasionally, I still think  
About that man with the dirt caked on his shoes.
So my computer and the Internet linked.
And I found his name in the news.

I searched the world over. 
It was to no avail.
From Madagascar to Dover,
And thought I had failed.

Then I searched the name
Of the woman who had him out in the rain,
At first, I came up empty;
But my curiosity was so tempting.
I could not stop.
I was almost ready to concede to a flop.
When I came across
An Internet site entitled: "My Loss!"

As I sat reading that monitors blue screen,
My eyes tired.
So my printer copied it out.
As I pondered what it was about.

The text 
Referred to a man who wouldn't get his shoes cleaned,
And how he was mired
In a fight 
Over something he thought was right.

Only to be labeled a loon,
By people who wanted him out of their neighborhood soon.
He got so perplexed.
He didn't know what to do.
When his neighbors decided to sue.

3

He had started 
Building a house.
He was in a neighborhood that was guarded.
He made virtually no noise.

In fact, he probably was quieter than a mouse.
Certainly, quieter than the neighborhood boys,
Who constantly taunted him with their toys.

He used his own two hands.
He hoped their home would one-day stand
Completing a testament of love.
He even released a flock of white doves
That day he broke ground. 
Although, he invited the whole town
No one else came around
Except the sheriff, who just stood there and frowned
Watching as the man released a thousand balloons
And played all of his former wife's favorite old tunes.

The next morning,
The sheriff arrived without warning.
A county judge issued an injunction
Claiming his mental capacity was not in proper function.    

He ended up in jail
Having a psychiatrist monitor his emotional state.
For a while, he refused to exhale.
The doctor placed him in solitaire
With these instructions: No pending release date.

Seventy-two hours later, he was escorted from his cell.
At that moment, the entire building erupted with the
Sound of one very loud bell,
It seemed the weather, which had been fair
Turned dark and menacing.
The wind blew stronger than a gale.
The man could not get his hands 
Out there finishing.

4

He knew
That every grain of dirt and sand
Would sail 
Spreading it all into the wind.

There was nothing he could do.
The earth and sky started to blend.
His life's work would fail.
So he watched the sky turn a brownish red.
He collected tons of earth over the years
And it floated away.

Although, the psychiatrist heard: "Wish I were dead." 
The county released him a few hours later.
Discovering that only a few ounces of earth managed to stay.   
He cried a few tears and then said: 
"Mother Nature! I could never hate her!" 

Once again he took out his spoon
Collecting what was left of his life's work
Saying to all that could hear: 
"Maybe I’ll go the moon?
It has no atmosphere!"

As his mind started to perk,
He wiped away a tear.
Then finding himself alone.  
He let out a moan
Yelling: "Maybe next year!
Right now! I don't have much to offer
Except one little bottle of dirt,
It's all I have left of my Courtney's Earth."

In a surprise,
He cleaned off those shoes.
It looked like they might have even belonged to a golfer.
Then he spoke to himself: "I'll tell you no lies.
I have no idea what else to do.
Whatever I decide,
Her house will one-day fly!

5

Perhaps, it should glide
Until it gets so high,
Oh my!
I need to write this down
In order to hear how it sounds."

In the future, when man goes back to the moon.
Search for a house built on some lunar dune,
And a couple watching the sunrise giving birth
Seeing the beauty of Courtney's Earth.

6

           Courtney's Earth:

	Act III 

	The Wicket

Ten years past,
Before I set out to discover.
Whether that man accomplished his task 
Or abandoned his dream for another lover. 

It took awhile
For me to find
How many miles
He had climbed.

When I did,
It became evident
That he had hid
A large sum of money; 
He put it in an offshore bank.
Not to be spent on a rainy day,
But when the weather was sunny.

Some of the money ended up in Francs,
And some of the money was put in Yen.
It was all converted, however, right away
Within the week 
Ending his cataclysmic event.

He purchased a ticket to the Pacific Rim.
In his effort to seek 
A mode of travel
That, as yet, had not been unraveled.

Someone gave him
A hint that in a nearby thicket.
He would find the wicket.

Although, that stranger
Suggested there might be danger.
That man walked down a lonely road made of gravel.
It really was no more than a path.
Halfway down, he needed a bath.
7
He crossed an invisible line
Entering the domain of the wicket keeper.
He saw no signs,
But worried about stepping on a mine.
That's one reason why,
His metal detector had a beeper.

Feeling no pain, he let out a sigh.
When someone rushed by.
He asked for directions,
But there was no response.

Then a voice
From ahead
Very boldly said:
"Do you have connections?"
Startled! He couldn't reply.
Then he managed a phrase:
"I'm on a mission of affection.
I'm here by choice."

The wicket keeper interrupted trying to make him leave
Provoking him with taunts
Suggesting the path turned into a maze
Full of ghosts that haunt:

"Didn't you see that passerby?
It had no head or arms.
It had only sleeves,
And it only had a collar."      
The man was unafraid.
He wasn't even dazed.
He just started waving his dollars.
	
Shouting: "You'll get paid.
I've been told
You hold a key
That unlocks a gate."

The wicket keeper stated:
"You'll just have to wait.
I'm the only one authorized 
To see

8

What’s beyond that prize.
This mode of travel has not yet been fated."

Then it seems
They came to an agreement.
Where the man was allowed to view
The wicket
Nestled firmly in the thicket.

It was only a small door.
Made within a larger entrance.
Inside it had an enormous parquet floor.
It was covered in vines.
They looked like beans,
But they possibly could have been something to make wine.

Those plants must have been there a very long time.
The wicket certainly didn't look new.
It was bent
And had a few large dents.
There wasn't even a fence.

Out of frustration, 
That man requested a demonstration
Demanding it be opened without hesitation.

The wicket keeper capitulated
Searching for an old rope end.
It must have rarely been manipulated
By the strange noise it made while tied to a limb.

At the end of the rope
Was this fragile little boat.
They both stepped in.
The man said out loud: "I hope
This thing floats.
How large is this moat?"

As they stepped on the other side,
The wicket keeper shouted: "Silence
Or you will become a victim of violence.
Step through the door
And leave this world of sin.

9

Select your destination
Or you might leave creation."

At that point, the man was chilled to the core;
But he needed more.
He took one gigantic step.
And somehow he leapt
Feeling himself soar!

When he opened his eyes.
He couldn't surmise his surprise.
How was he able to see the surface of the moon?       
He took one long look.
Like the pages of a good book 
That demonstration ended to soon.

So he paid some more money.
The wicket keeper laughed thinking it was funny,
But that man knew
He couldn't resist the view
Of Courtney's Earth,
It was a beautiful opal blue,
And it had to be worth
All the gold
That could ever be sold.

Then he said: "I'd give my last dollar
If Courtney could hear me holler 
Yelling her name on the moon."
On the second trip,
He started building a room.

That army surplus spacesuit, he used,
Was a little large in the hips.
Although, he never got confused;
In fact, life to him was new.
His architectural plans even included a zoo.

He poured his heart,
His soul,
And his muscle
Into making a new start.

10

He worked like a mole:
Hurried and bustled.
 
There was no one else around with whom to tussle.
Time just flew.
Before he knew it.
He was through.
 
The first time he placed a chair to sit
And look up at that big marble
Of white and blue.
He marveled
At how man
Had grown to stand
And work with hands
That will forever toil in the sand,
But then his mind wandered back.
And he ate a snack from the hydroponics garden.

He said: "Life here 
Is a lot more clear
Than on the island of St. Martin.

There are no distractions
And no other human factions
With which to contend."  
  
So he settled in
Deciding to wait 
And see what fate
Brought forth in the end.

That's when he posted a note
On the worldwide web and hit the keyboard button send.
As far as I know,
All he wrote
Were these few words:
"Your house is in the night sky
Where there's a glow.
It affects the tides
And birds 
Don’t glide that high.

11
I'll be waiting for a sign.
Every night we could dine
And sip some wine
Sitting on untrammeled dirt
Looking out into space
At the human race
Giving birth on your Earth."

Then he e-mailed those directions
With all his emotional inflections
Hoping she would take that ride.

If that elevator flied,
Maybe love has a chance.
Perhaps, they had their first dance
Surrounded by the vastness of dark matter;
Or I could be as mad as the mad hatter.

For whatever it’s worth,
I tend to believe
That one day 
We will all grieve
And plant flowers on the moon.
That day may
Come very soon.
Why! You say?
Because love is the highest power
One can achieve.
I am certain their love will tower
Over the birth 
Of a new Earth
Whenever our sun fades.
That's how we were made.

Someone else may give it a name,
Or it might be referred to the same.
Whatever it's called,
Earth will always be a ball.
Gravity just works that way.

I'll always remember the last words 
That man was reported to have spoken:
"Like a newly hatched bird
That has just woken.
12

There should never be shame
Attached to the burning
Or yearning of loves flame."  

13