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Narrative Science Poems | Narrative Poems About Science

These Narrative Science poems are examples of Narrative poems about Science. These are the best examples of Narrative Science poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Star Trek and Captain Kirk's Final Frontier

Kirk: ‘Lt. Uhura, come to my quarters at 1800 hours’
Uhura: ‘Yes captain, might I ask what’s up?’
Kirk: ‘Nothing now but something WILL be at 1800 hours’
Bones: ‘Jim, is this a medical issue?’
Kirk: ‘You bet your boner it is, Bones’
Sulu: ‘Captain, a Klingon ship is approaching’
Kirk:  ‘Blast that sucker to smithereens, I got a date’
Chekov: ‘Captain, you’ll need protection on this mission’
Kirk: No problem Ensign, got a few here in my wallet’

Obi-Wan Kenobi: ‘May the force be with you’
Kirk:’ Thanks Obi, but you’re in the wrong contest’
Obi-Wan Kenobi: ‘This isn’t PD’s contest?’
Kirk: ‘HELL no, now SKAT will probably disqualify us’
Obi-Wan Kenobi: ‘Well, may the force be with you anyway’
Kirk: ‘Look Kenobi, nobody’s forcing ANYBODY here’

Spock: ‘Captain, I’m receiving a message from SKATfleet Command’
Kirk: ‘What Mr. Spock? And why do you always talk like that?’
Spock: ‘To qualify for the contest, the writer has to command the ship’
Kirk: ‘Damn it all! What the…FRONT AND CENTER WRITER!’
Writer: ‘Um…All hands on deck?...Anchors away?’

Uhura: ‘Ohh Captain KIRRK, it’s 1800 hours’…
Kirk: ‘Not now Uhura, I’m not in the mood!’
Uhura: Ohh Captain WRITERRR, it’s 1800 hours’…
Writer: ‘Kirk, you have the helm. I’ll be in my quarters’ 
Spock: ‘Fascinating’
Kirk: ‘Shut-up Spock’…

Tim Ryerson
Theme: Sexual harassment in the workplace
For SKAT’s contest

Copyright © Tim Ryerson

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A Long Cold-Chill

I watched the penguins woddle along,
On cold-hard ice; where they belong.

From water to land, they scurried around,
Flapping their feet on frozen ground.

Herds of them were standing still,
Settling down to a long cold chill.

Mother passes her egg to father carefully;
Knowing he'll care for it, so, naturally.

He'll protect it from the harsh-cold nights,
In a warm snug pouch away from sight.

For mother must find many fish to catch,
While father stays until it is hatched.

Long-dark days of Winter will change to Fall,
Returning mother, with, her familiar call.

Such a sweet sound for father's ear,
Ending another, long-cold Winter year.

Giving father penguin a much needed break,
For their chick is born and fully awake.

With such a huge urge to quickly eat,
Yes, many tasty meals of fresh, fish-meat.

Copyright © Carol B Tyre

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Infinitely Redundant

Is science fiction an oxymoron?
How can science be fiction
When it is the process by which myth
Is eliminated and all that is tangible
In the world is interpreted? And isn’t fiction
Nothing more than the literary
Manifestation of the dreams
That crash through the barriers
Of reality? How then
Can the two terms coexist
In a single phrase?

But wait.

Is there anything made
By mortal hands
That was not proceeded
By a dream? Is it possible
That the creator of worlds
Dreamed before the first
Flowers bloomed in the garden?

If dreams lead to physical
Things, then they must be
The blueprints of the future
And the catalyst of science;
Conversely, science is proof
Of the dreams of gods and mortals.

Science fiction is not
An oxymoron, but it is
The infinitely redundant
Confirmation of life.

Copyright © Rex Holiday

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Once night Gretta Foster sat in the backyard, 
building a rocket ship that ought to take her a-far, 
she had been working day and night - tirelessly, 
hammering, programming, all so dexterously. 
Then when the sun arose and sparkled in the sky, 
Gretta was still working, that too without a sigh, 
the ship was finally built, Gretta was on cloud nine, 
but going a bit farther up than that seemed rather fine. 
She sat inside the cockpit, tightened her seat belt, 
pushed a few buttons, with such admirable stealth, 
algorithms aplenty - all perfectly aligned, 
as the engine started roaring, boisterously alight. 
The rocket ascended at last, it set sail yonder, 
to the farthest frontier that this universe could conjure, 
and after it finally left the vivid atmosphere, 
Gretta was so happy, she let out a smiling tear. 
Days passed and she was put in catatonic sleep, 
immobile and still, immersed in lovely dreams, 
suddenly with a thud, the ship had landed still, 
She woke up instantly, with a newfound thrill. 
She wore the lunar suit, which she had stitched herself, 
opened up the bolted door and descended the metal steps, 
the moment she touched ground, she turned around, 
and got pleasantly surprised by what she found! 
A red-hatted impish elf, sat crossed leg, 
a large nosed fairy stood, munching on nutmeg, 
two rabbits bowed down to the rabbit goddess, 
and two more pressed her feet, in a soft caress. 
Gretta walked a step and heard the elf shout, 
"oh silly person, take that suit out!, 
we've got oxygen, plenty of em to breathe, 
that suits a waste o' time and energy!" 
Gretta obeyed, and unzipped the heavy suit, 
underneath she wore a dress - flowery and cute, 
"good going, young child, now lemme show you, 
this lovely wonderland which you dub the moon!" 
And the elf was right, they met unicorns, 
box-laden garden paths and joyous little fauns, 
walking and talking scarecrows, nursing little crows, 
small blue doll houses with chuckling gnomes. 
within a crater lived a colony of werewolves, 
but they were nice and fair - specially one named Ulf, 
he'd give her milk and tea with chocolate biscuits, 
and in order to keep her warm, red spotted mitts. 
The goddess too was nice, a wise and lovely soul, 
"be imaginative and create, but don't forget your goal", 
she'd also give her nutmeg of such abundant variety, 
her best friend was a Faun, so strong and mighty. 
and the Minotaurs build Gretta a lovely home, 
with a mushroom roof and walls build of foam, 
"stay here with us, Gretta, you'd have a great time", 
said the red-hatted elf while singing a rhyme. 
Gretta thought and thought, she came to a decision, 
she decided to stay for sure, she looked forward for her admission, 
and from thereon, life for her was perfected, 
all her dying wishes had suddenly been resurrected.

Copyright © manek kohli

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The Last Eclipse

Military and civilian linguists and intelligence analysts, my colleagues and I were monitoring the Balkans troubles, supporting our troops in theater 'down range'. We were working the 'Mids' shift from 11 pm till 7 am at Bad Aibling Station--formerly a military intelligence site.  I had read that we were in the western European zone that would experience a total eclipse of the sun that morning.  One of the other Serbo-Croatian linguists had a car on post.  I voiced the thought "wouldn't it be cool if we drove out to Mount Wendelstein and saw the eclipse from up there?!".  He and another agreed.  After shift we drove to the base of the mountain, and decided to hike the trail to the top rather than pay to ride the cable car up.  Many Bavarians had the same idea, and it was somewhat crowded on the summit.  When the eclipse was finally full, it was like standing on shadowy clouds surrounded by a large ring of light--eery, bizarre, and colder than anticipated both due to the elevation and darkness.  Two minutes and twenty-six seconds of totality. I had goose bumps for several reasons, and could understand why primitive man would have been so terrified of the experience. Returning back to base, we learned that it had been overcast down there; so local people only saw it get dark, but missed the actual eclipse.  However, three Sergeants had been in the right place at the right time, to see the first total eclipse in Europe in forty years, and last one of the twentieth century....August 11th, 1999.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday

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A Soul Awakened

The warm light calls me
And all the people who cries for thee
I raise my hand in this abyss
Only to make one wish
To float among the others
With all my sisters and brothers
I call out for forgiveness with passion
I take their pain into myself for this occasion
The moment that I see the sky
I will not look back and cry
My body is laying still
People standing by it with a chill
The air gets dense with sadness
I would not think of it less
Some people look up and down
To see the light hit the ground
Some can vision the uplifting feeling they see
One soul that has been and always be
It is special to notice such aberration 
And that might be how souls are awaken

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

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Post of the Night: The sensory testing

1) People take samples of the environment and other people all the time. 

2) When individuals fit the stimuli of his constituency become sensory validation 

3) People react to validate the stimuli as the emanations of thoughts picked by 
human senses were channeling themselves. 

4) For this reaction to the sinister look, the unwanted thought expressed by 
speech, not liked by gesture, by misunderstood thing ... in response affects the 
environment again. 

5) And a cycle of disorder settles until individuals are unaware of habitat and 
move the harmony channel instead of disorder.

Copyright © Max Diniz Cruzeiro

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In Protest of Science

I'd like you to meet my Uncle Joe
He's the vegetable of our family.
That is, if we listen to statistics.
According to them, the experts,
Since Joe didn't die by the age of five
He is now a vegetable.

Well! We wish every family
Could have vegetable like ours;
On that walks, talks
And has given us many years
Of pure pleasure and
More love than we'll ever deserve.

How many vegetables do you know
That give the world's best hugs
And tell you every day you are beautiful?
How many vegetables do you know 
That pray for you every day?
How many vegetables can crack you up
By misquoting old sayings-
"You can lead a horse to water
But you can't make him stand on his head"?
Yes, we are extremely fond of our vegetable
He's been in our family
Over 50 years and although
He is pretty spoiled rotten by now
As vegetbles sometimes
Become after a time
We plan to keep him around for fifty more!

Copyright © E.J. Smith

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Early Retirement

There was this science teacher at my high school.  One of those idiots who had to kiss his boss’ ass to get ahead.  One of those insecure fools who would be far more suitable working in a lab with a microscope up his nose so far his eyes might begin to bulge out, or maybe even at Walmart.

Anyplace other than a school, subjecting poor kids to his nonsense.

So, the incompetent butt kisser somehow won Teacher of the Year.  What a joke!  The students got together, held a makeshift summit and devised a plan, one that would make school history.

Since Billy’s mom worked as a janitor, she had one of those “good” keys.  He yanked it from her one night when she slept soundly thanks to the Ambien Katie stole from her mom’s medicine cabinet.  It's a good thing Katie’s mama never watched the PSAs.

The night of the award ceremony, everyone got into position, and nodded to each other.  Mr. Idiot Science Teacher approached the podium to accept his award.  The administration clapped with cheesy smiles plastered on their idiot faces.

Then, down poured the eggs, “Carrie style."  Nearly 1,500 of them, courtesy of Jared’s grandpa’s farm.

A week later, we learned Mr. Idiot Science teacher retired. He was twenty seven.

Yesterday I stopped by Walmart to pick up some milk and eggs.  Standing behind the register...the retired science teacher.  As I walked away, I glanced down at the carton, thankful he didn’t work in the hunting department.  


Copyright © Natalie The Rogue Rhymer

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My Story Telling Who is this Princes

The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

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The Wonderful Magnet

           The Wonderful Magnet 
The magnet is a wonderful thing, as it is 
made from iron extracted from the ground
becoming a magnet from it's magnetic
properties from the Earth, being buried over 
centuries it has become vital to man. 
with the abilities to attract metal and also 
repel metal with a different polarity, as 
like poles repel  and unlike poles will attract
this amazing  piece of iron can be used in
various products: generators, motors and 
may even be the solution to anti-gravity 
and propulsion of space vehicles that could 
travel to distant planets and beyond, back 
in earlier times people believed the magnet 
may be a creation of the Devil, as being a 
material capable of pointing North, a form of 
scourcery  or even witchcraft, where in actual 
fact it was science, used in the creation of the 
compass, something that every boy scout 
would use in camping, and many other uses today.

Copyright © John Ginesi

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The Median Death of the Red Delicious

“God bless us all when the door is shut behind us, 
only then will we breathe our first breath,
and awake 
from the long dream…”

Forging past the indisputable summit onto the 
shelf of the perfect medium (ah, ‘tis noble here!)
he sits, contemplating his balance. He does not sweat. 

The winds breath breaks upon his predestined neck, 
bestowing the gift of lily white scent upon a lapel that’s 
stiff, yet pliable – just stiff enough. A 72 degree sun 

shines its neutrality, (fueling his desire for nothing at all, 
just the concept of sun giving heat, like a heartbeat, 
unnoticed in its certainty) upon his stagnant face. 
He is wearing his favorite pants (soft, worn jeans with 

a little give, but not enough so that he forgets to hold 
in his stomach), and from the ample pocket, he takes 
an apple. It is a Red Delicious. Not quite living up to its 
name, but unassuming and secure in its redness – he eats. 

It’s not the best apple he’s ever had, but its good enough. 
The vultures, native to this coveted desert waste circle, 
vying for the core of his Non-Delicious, yet edible fruit. 
And as he Bites into the last white taste of just fine, a glint 

of sunlight flashes briefly – like infinity within dreams, 
off of the vultures black eyes. And all at once he knows – 
everything is. The death birds orbit the terracotta desert 
peek (red and inviting in its dry and unforgiving reality), 

the bird turns away so fast after catching his eye, 
he forgets that he’d ever seen its pulsing recognition. 
The forgettable sunset mollifies him - sedates him,
pacifying his every forgettable non-movement.

It is then, when the last dripping light of day descends 
behind the obvious rock mount; the definite edge 
of darkness falls. Shadows creep slowly and quickly
across the terrestrial rock spine, (engulfing its redness

in its totality) leaving just the remnants of burgundy
skin between yellowing teeth, and a deafening black desert. 
As the sound of raucous wings and ripping jeans dominates
the guttural desert - the vultures take their coveted prize.

*Reposted for Deborah's Something Wicked This Way Comes, Wickedness Contest. :)

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

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Spoiled by Carson Eelman- 7th grader

A tribute to Ray Bradbury's The Veldt

by Carson Eelman

The nursery is a curious place
a place where dreams came true
inside lied an African Veldt.
In there the leaves would sway,
as the grass danced in the wind,
the lions roar, the sun beats hot,
it seems so real but know it's not.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

The power of imagination,
can be a wonderful thing,
full of magic, fun, and wonder;
but it can turn to darkness as well.
The nursery became corrupted,
with thoughts of death,
becoming real to Mom and Dad.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

The called a man
to see what's wrong
but honestly he wasn't sure.
He said they should take a break,
and so the father said,
"Shut down the house,
     we are ready to go," 
         but the kids said "Please No!"

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

They couldn't let it happen,
so they locked both inside.
The parents screamed and banged,
but to no reply.
The lions came and they were gone.
Peter and Wendy flashed a wicked grin,
then settled down and ate a meal.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

Copyright © Lynette Munich

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Utterly, Utterly, Preposterous

Aliens DO exist and they are observing us guys The way we interact with each other What advice do you think they would give us Would they throw up their hands in disgust And say, “it's no use... people of earth, you just don't get it!” Or would they see hope for us and offer to help Perhaps they've gone through similar “growing pains” Wherever they come from And wish to share their experiences with us At my advanced age, I hope I live long enough to see that day To suggest that we are alone in the universe Is absolutely absurd and beyond my comprehension There are billions upon billions of other galaxies With billions upon billions of other worlds like ours To assume otherwise Is UTTERLY, UTTERLY, PREPOSTEROUS! © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison

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We do recall the day Abuja
arrived in a strange flying machine 
claimed to have created da ding..
landed at the caffe near..
our lecture halls...

Abuja took some permanent markers-
wrote some gibberish on the wall..
alluding to a malfunction of his-
time machine..the professor came
out to witness crazy Abuja antics

Abuja enters the caff e.. snatches
a newspaper from a lady..eating 
chicken... Bujas claimed he could via..
his time machine read the next 
months newspaper... abuja predicts-
the funny part..he is a bomb expert 
now...trying to stop one from going
kaboom.. in the near future.

according to Bujas as hes fondly named
the machine would stop ze bomb from...
going kaboom..ze future is here bombs-
have gone kaboom but none where...
bujas stood, we are safe bujas neutralized
the kaboom...from ze terrorist..

and to you who will make ze time machine
know our abujas has already traveled
to the future.. we not sure we like him..
messing our future..bujas-
Hopping on his machines the wrong way...
did a hair rising crazy stunt... did i see
a television chute in his contraption...
he flew back to wherever he comes from

its undisputed bujas is crazy,
but its not disputed hes very intelligent..
Mwanoo young buja..
the crazy inventor of our time..
Abuja of the time machine fame..
Abuja - the proffesa frowned....
and ordered us back to our lecture
halls... who knows what he do next..

Lewis k Nyaga

Copyright © LEWIS NYAGA

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                     THE ALIENS

Nobody really knew of their existence
 until the year 2626
Prior to that year it was merely speculation
From an old scientist's bag of tricks
Lutus does not lie in the habitable zone of its star
Yet it is habitable 
 Hot and not very far
From Numulus
A mega super star
Sitting in the dark corners of the massive Milky Way
Nobody ever thought that we would see this day
Our predecessors had always talked about extraterrestrials
As little green men
Or horrifying monsters sitting in what looks like a lion’s den
Riding in flying saucers
But those people were double crossers
What we sighted 
Were nothing like men
And were unlikely monsters
As if God wanted to shield humanity from its doom
Aliens approaches with a boom
They were worm like chimeras
With one thousand legs
Or was it feet
Looking for meat
They emerged from their colonies 
That looks like a gigantic cocoon
Lying deep in a sea of water about the size of a lagoon
Glowing with bright light
We humans prepared for a fight
We fires on targets with our sophisticated weapons
The aliens simply multiplied in seconds
Right before their eyes 
We flew to the skies
Because there was no where to hide
And we had lost our pride
We flew away with our rocket boots
And made away with all our loots
To our spacecraft
A masterpiece of technology
But of that age it was an apology
The Lutus D 9 2700
With rock samples and specimens of skin of the worm monsters
What are they made of?
It is hard to tell
But seeing the way they rebel
It is obvious Lutus is hell
Aliens vomited a strange yellowish substance
Some damage the ship and caused resistance
We left our robot guards to contend with them 
As we watched from a distance
What are these simple beings?
That looks like earthly serpents that caused us fleeing
With an enormous strength and size
I saw it swallow up our space mobiles before it flies
They retreat to undisclosed location in the black sea
We dropped a nuclear device and made Lutus history
Intending the total annihilation of the entire worm race
But the more we killed the more these worms full the place
A midst the mushroom cloud
The next nuclear explosion sounded loud
Worms multiplied by asexual union
Army of aliens now over ten thousand billion
We have no other alternative than to abandon mission
This was a very hard decision
For me to take
But it was taken
To avoid internecine before I wake
And a nightmare that took place in Lutus’ black lake

Olusegun Akanbi


Copyright © Olusegun Akanbi

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Willow's Bluff

An eerie little poem for your enjoyment. 

It's fiction but inspired by a little cave I found this weekend on my woodsy walk ;)
(minus the ghostly whispers!  "OooooOOOO!" heheh) Also a bit of a message in this one. 

Willow's Bluff  (Part 1)
    by Amy Swanson   2.9.2009

The other day I found myself
restless and ill at ease, 
so I thought I'd take a walk
forget my cares in spring's warm breeze.

The forest was so beautiful
and trees, once dead, were turning green
I couldn't help but marvel
at life's mysteries I had seen.

I started on the well worn path
and thought I heard a sound;
it made me jump, I turned to look,
but no one was around.

The sunlight streamed so gloriously
upon my tear stained face
my heart felt light, forgotten cares
just being in this place.

And then it happened once again
I know I heard a noise!
I stopped now, to investigate
This hidden, quiet voice.

I wandered off the walker's trail
into the woods much deeper
I chanced upon a darkened cave
... and the cave's gatekeeper.

A mystical sight to behold
unearthly glowing light
it rose a bit up from the ground
then faded from my sight.

I made my way into the cave
mysteriously dark
and there it was... that voice again...
slowly I embarked

My flashlight shining at full force
was still not bright enough
to counter with this deepening dark
I'd found near Willow's Bluff. 

I heard the eerie whispers now
quite clearly, in my ear
first one, then two, now several more
and though my pioneer

spirit got me into this,
I felt that it was time to flee!
I turned and ran the opposite way
the voices though, were still with me!

I thought I knew the way back out
I tripped my way along
my flashlight flickered one last light
... I found that I was wrong...

somehow my turns had led me
down a path I did not know;
I turned to walk the other way -
but there was no place left to go.

*continue to Part 2*

Copyright © Amy Swanson

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A Rift in Time part 1

A Rift in Time

By Elton Camp

	Henry Higgins, B.A., M.A. Ph.D., graduate in physics from the Massachusetts Institution of Technology, is missing.  Born August 8, 1950, he was thought of as a genius by some, but as a crackpot by others.  Revolutionary theories on the possibility of time travel that he presented at scientific gatherings received a mixture of applause and ridicule.  None of his articles have seen publication in peer-reviewed journals.  

	How his machine works is of a technical nature, thus certain to be of insignificant interest to the readers of this account.  Suffice it to say that it works very well.  Henry had seen his device disappear and reappear multiple times after being programmed to slide both forward and backward in time.  

	Finally came the day to test it in person.  Surprisingly athletic for a man of his years, Henry strapped himself into place before the control panel, adjusted his eyeglasses and pulled a protective helmet over his thick, gray hair.  He set the chronometer to early August of 2040 to determine if he was still living at that advanced age and what honors had been accorded him by the scientific community.  

	With a barely-discernable jerk, the time machine began its slide into the future, the red cancel button prominently alongside the digital display of the date.  The world outside the device became a blur and Henry heard only a low hum from the engine.  All seemed to be well as the years rolled by on the chronometer.  At first, that is.  

	Henry noted with surprise the muscle atrophy and skin changes associated with extreme age.  A slight looseness of his helmet caused him to discover that he was now as bald as his father had been in his late eighties.  Henry’s eyeglasses no longer allowed him to read the control panel clearly.  The truth hit him--he was aging along with the passing years.  The inanimate time machine had shown no such effect, but it was different with a biological organism.  He desperately punched the cancel button, realizing that, if his future self was not still living, his death was impending.  

	To his relief, the chronometer slowed and stopped.  Without input from Henry, the time device began to move backward in time, slowly at first, and then at a brisk clip.  By the time the read-out showed Henry’s present, his physical deterioration had been reversed and all was as before.  

Copyright © Elton Camp

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I believe my words meets you in good  state of mind
 and health
Do you believe africa can become a better continent?
 If so,how?
Young pepole must change their attitude__any part
 of their mindset holding them back!
If so,they should set goals to improve their behaviour
 and find solutions to challenges facing africa.
Young people must work twice as hard to make africa
 a better continent:
We have no time to waste but to make this continent
 that the LORD gave us a better place for
  future generations.
Our children must be able to hit the ground running
 to get somewhere meaningful.
We must work wholeheartedly in order to transform static
 policies since we got independence!
Africa should not be the only continent in the world where 
 outsiders find cheap commodities and slaves 
  to improve their economies!
That backwater theory must change,something beautiful 
 needs to happen very quickly!
Spectators have portrayed africa's reign as a missed
 opportunity to tackle problems___
A yawning rich-poor gap to stiffly politics
 and controversial policies__
That africa's collective leadership have been too timid 
 to implement good governance policies
  because of remote controlled influence!
Something wonderful must happen to our mindset__
Europe or America did not develop in one day!
And technology did not fall from heaven___
 but it was invented and innovated.
Where africa cannot create,let us buy advanced 
 green technology,
to make rock-solid industriariazation
I believe,africa's economy can grow to become among
 the world's largest economies___
And our per capita income can quituple!

chipepo lwele
*To my fellow africans both living in africa or outside africa

Copyright © chipepo lwele

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The Song Of David

Enlighten days have past
He comes excel in all, so he thinks
"I am greater than man,
I know what ignorant man does not.
Come to me for knowledge unsurpassed!".
He points to the blue heaven,
"Where is thy wisdom? For I know all.
Where is thy command? That makes the ground shake
And brings forth water that lives?"

At the great gatherings,
He flocks the shepherds, blind, mute and deaf  
He answers to the multitude of questions
He asked the shepherds, "but what are thy questions?",
“I know not what do ask a man of your wisdom, but what  is a dream?
What is life?” asked the young herdsman.
"I know not what you speak of", said the Man.
"I only know what i can feel, touch and see"

"A dream is dream that passes us by, like gentle breeze of fresh spring.
Life holds all things mystery and doubts.
Shepherd knows to flock, not life or dreams".
"The shepherds are those who are humble, noble one", said the herdsman
"The blind cannot see, the mute cannot speak and the deaf cannot hear".
"Who are you preaching to? Silent and amaze, the man looks on.  

"If the blind could see you, 
They would say, 'look here is the man who tried to humble the blind
For they can see what others cannot,
If the mute could speak, they would humble you!
And if the deaf could hear they would shamed your wisdom".
"Was I a fool?" said the Man "or are you not that young herdsman?
Who knows nothing of life and passes his days tending the sheep's?
What could you learn from such simpleton life?"

"Life I live is simple indeed, 
No one knows that the shepherds are those who protects the weak"
"Nature is a friend of the shepherd; we sing the song of David
And rubs the olive oil to our young sheep, to keep away the flies".
Insulted, the man's fury turns over to the young herdsman
"Nature? Protect the weak? The song of David? Flies?
How can nature befriend a lonely shepherd? Protect who?
Song of David the Shepherd who became the king? 
What flies would harm the young flocks?"

The young herdsman smiled at the frown face of the man,
Left without a word
The blind, the mute and deaf ignored the man.
An unyielding shame kept the man humbled
He wonders why the young herdsman smiled about.
He came about a bridge and crossed the rocky roads
On the hill top he stood 
And saw the young herdsman singing the Song of David.

Copyright © LIde Sangtam

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a purple planet

One night and one
one place in a crowd
too many flowers
no room for a frown
places are higher
the World and the news
people and places
a distance for spaces
a planet with wastelands
a future with grape lands
cloudy with rooms
more flowers and brooms
jewels and the bunnies
bracelets for no money
a panther and the day light
a creature and the new sights
blue wars that go around the moon
makes prettier roses
and more waters bloom

Copyright © Ernestine Wilson

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Willow's Bluff, part 2

** continued from part 1, please read that one first **

Willow's Bluff  (Part 2)
   by Amy Swanson     2.9.2009

The whispers getting louder now,
my screams rose silently
trying to escape my lips,
my arms now  beating violently!

"Let me go! What do you want!?"
my mind's voice now demanded
of the whispering captors
who somehow held me, stranded.

The pressure of the moment
held me paralyzed with fear.
Oh how I wish I'd stayed away
and never come in here!

Tightening around my chest
and whispers growing still...
my mind was racing frantically,
my body felt a chill.

And then... a human voice... a light...
the sun gentle and warm...
my eyelids fluttered... I awoke,
completely safe from harm.

My husband leaned down close to me
and said "Are you all right?
You took a spill and konked your head,
you gave us all a fright."

Confused, I nodded slowly
and my eyes turned toward the river
the path I'd taken in my dream was there...!
I felt a shiver.

"Yes, yes, of course, I'm doing fine,
don't worry about me.
I'll be right there, you go ahead,
but first, there's something I must see."

I saw the path, still beckoning
it looked as in my dream...
a little further down the way
...the same unsettling theme.

The cave stood eerily in sight,
but I did not venture in.
A million questions to my mind,
this journey from within.

What did it mean? and how
could I explain what I had seen?
I chose to bury it down deep
and call it ... just a dream.

They say that only fools rush in
where angels fear to tread
walking down an unknown path
can lead straight to the dead.

One thing for certain, deep inside
I know this was not fluff -
so if you find an unknown path...
beware of Willow's Bluff.

Copyright © Amy Swanson

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Iris of Poetry

Introduction: We don't really think deep enough about "What A Poetry Actually Is", the
obvious question which we all know but don't think how to really elaborate on. We mostly
see the story, depth and the purpose it delivers. Well, here's one a little bit different
this time...

Poetry is the reflection of our lives like in the mirror,
It is something we can relate to and share.
It's our memories written in jumbled words,
It's like a song, with a meaning it holds.

A mere idea of our mystical lives,
Expressed in a way from deep inside
A way which only the heart can see,
A place where the eyes get cold-feet

The earnest truth and the sweetest lies,
It's all the irony that makes poetry so alive.

Copyright © Aqeb Be-Nazir Ibn Minar

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Stuff Made of Angels and Demon

Stuff Made of Angels and Demon
I am just a spirit that roams freely
I grab so much waste it is filthy in mouths alone
The soul burning and dripping with stench
Oozing with rapid decay things do not last in my world
Sharp talons of unbearable piercing grip
The rust that falls from what we throw away
Gushing in our streams of hate and desire
Does not belong in the world of the living
Shunned by goals of wealth and thieves
Comes the point of no return covered in soil
Then comes the light with warmth comes growth
Handling stuff gently through history a glory of faith
Down come white feathers that smite greed
People run to grab not needs they grab wants
The light burns all that grabs wants that is Stuff
In and out of haste flying in between people
Comes more than what they can see
Protecting them from the demons that are objects
Stuff that draws them in angels tugs and pulls them away

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

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Yolks and Whites

Yang Embryos Swim in Yin-Yin Seeds

I'm looking for a Theory of Everything
that might mean anything
for figuring out what to eat for breakfast.

Start with a taoist egg.

Did you say "toast and egg"?

Tao-ist Egg.

I doubt my eggs are religious.

No, but they are natural,
and contain binomial form
with regenerative ethological function.

So you say. Maybe my eggs have metaphysical syntax.  Would that work?

Philosophy, at its best, and most permanently encultured, has room for religion and spirituality, as well as science and nature.

OK, but I'm not absorbing this metaphysics of an egg.

Eggs are temporary organic incubators.
They function as a largely Closed-Set internal double-elliptically encoded information system.
Their interior boundary issues remain actively interdependent with their environ-mental boundary issues of general ecological risk and opportunity.
They respond to thermodynamic balance
at a cellular
and organic/holistic/holonic levels
of 4-dimensional  cooperative synergetic organization.
Eggs are sensitive to gravitational pressure
and have bilaterally limited tolerance levels for speed of change,
which interact with their relative temperatures.

Maybe I am lost in the forest of your analogizing
but this egg sounds more like an ego 
with some serious boundary issues.
Or maybe like a scientific,
or some kind of mutually immune, or defensive, 
anti-inductive while pro-deductive,
or paradigmatic boundary screen
of cognitive dissonance
protecting internal design process,
Still not seeing the Tao in this egg, 
or ego,
and incubator,
and whatever originates
and cultivates new life.

If Yang is the power of formation,
while Yin is bilateral flow and function
of teleologically positive nutrients
regeneratively composting with exquisitely timed delivery 
of sustainably eco-rooted function,
then which is this full-colored yolk
and which is this transparent white?

OK, yes, now I see the taoist, well-timed, egg. This begins to feel like egg-cooking class for a vegan. Now what?

An embryo is a "budh", 
if you are a Buddhist,
and a "bud"
in English.
If you imagine your ego-identification
as your egg's DNA yolk
being fed most eco-nutritiously 
by your RNA-inclusive 
SuperTemporal-Only Bilateral/Proportional
Not-Languaged/Eco Right-brained exegesis
of yin-squared = c-squared = e-squared = +/double-minus P-squared
that might be how a post-millennial Taoist
would design,
and research, 
and bicamerally nondually incarnate
comprehensively con-scientific polycultural co-operative co-arising consciousness,
co-regenerative enlightenment.

So, I am this Taoist ego-bionic balancing eco-logical eco-normative system.  
Homo Bicameral Sapiens as Eco-Nomials.

But, because Yang ego-bodies
are dipolar incarnations of Yin's eco-soul DNA intention,
Yin is Yang equivalent only as squared,
or double-negatived,
or double-bound,
or double-identified,
or both-and
as well as either-or,
coincidentally co-arising
negative correlates are dipolar 4-equivalent dimensional collateral
(please feel invited to re-binucamerally see G. Perelman's 0-Soul Theorem),
so HomoSapiens are bilaterally incarnated
as ego/binomial Left deductive/expiration
balancing eco/monomial [polynomial] Right intuited/inspiration
fractal-octave frequency harmonic
spacetime Common natural systemic.

Wow, dude, that's some really esoteric shit you've been smoking!

but sticking with generic embryonic beginnings,
a bicameral Taoist egg language developer
might re-paradigm "esoteric" as "eco-terra"--
Earth's ecological intelligence,
as ubiquitously displayed
in fractal-root structures
of regenerate temporal-spatial cellular development,
emerging from aptic-universal cultural awareness
toward a more aptic/synaptic balancing
bicameral unitarian consciousness.

Now you're saying we are a species of anonymous Buddhists,
and also Unitarian Universalists?
You know,
that "anonymous Christian" conjecture
by Hans Kung
really didn't get great reviews
in many multi-religious environments.

but Christianity is a theistically framed view
of our shared eco-identity,
our Original Story,
while UUs,
and Buddhists covenant spiritual principles of shared belief
as teleologically exegetical information;
an ecologic of Fuller's Universal Intelligence,
Yang-Form and Yin-Function, nondually together
assume gravitational synchronic purposes
as primal for secondary ego-satisfactory meaning,
for "Universe",
"Earth", and all DNA/RNA encrypted Earth Tribes
sharing a cooperative vocation
to balance our co-gravitational solidarity
with our eco-RNA harmonic default preference
for Win-Win mutually subsidiary,
reverse-hierarchical governance eco-norms,
electromagnetic with thermodynamic prime relational comprehension
consciousness that positive radiant convex
fractal-ergodic universal balance
remains eternally
temporally incarnating
and excarnating,
inhaling and exhaling,
double-negative gravitational concaving
bionic co-arising
octave harmonics.

I'm not feeling the love and passion
within this hard-shelled Taoist egg.

Fertility, rather than sterility,
producing love
rather than merely consuming life's essential nutrients,
these are timing,
tipping point,
temperature systemic
flow and function issues.

To Optimize Continuous Quality Improvement
of comprehensive egolove and therapy,
we cultivate equivalent confluence
with our larger eco-logical health values,
eco-justice intent
as eco-nomic polycultural/permacultural practice.

Polycultural Climax is our RNA-rooted vocation objective,
or full-yolked teleological purpose,
while Permacultural Design and Development
is our transparently shared ego-logical nest
holding deductive/inductive Left-Right brain co-dominantly arising meaning;
the opposite of cognitive and affective dissonance,
which is more like scrambling eggs.

Which brings us back to breakfast?

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck

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Legend Of The Black Dove - Part 9

                       Legend Of The Black Dove  

                  (Part 9)   "The Voyage To Where ?"


The weather is cold and the sea calm as the 'Columbia' goes out to sea. 

Norrington and Jenkins finally fall asleep in their cabin while on deck 

the captain fears something wrong with the ship, the weather picks up 

to a squall as the 'Columbia' gains tremendous speed and a strange 

mist engulfs the ship. She is travelling an amazing 2000knots and

then suddenly slows down. They are in a harbour once again, but 

where are they ? It is now daylight, it having being night just an hour 

before going to sea. The jolt from sudden stopping awaken Norrington 

and Jenkins and they head up on deck. From the captain,  Norrington 

finds out the ship has travelled to some unchartered  land, he 

orders for a boat to be lowered intending to go ashore on a 

scouting mission and asks for volunteers, Norrington and Jenkins go 

along with Captain Dennis Owens and his first officer Glenn Hill plus 

two crewmen.  As they approach Dover harbour (is Dover here an 

unchartered land?) the passengers and crew behold a very unusual 

sight: instead of sailing ships they notice ships of strange types moored 

in the harbour, along with the 'Enterprise'- the sister ship of the 

'Columbia' which must be brand new, but appears to be worn out and 

ready for scrapping. What are these strange ships, what had happened 

to their own ship ? The Captain decides he needed some answers 

(The Captain wishes to find out) so they all decide to board one of the 

strange vessels. When on board they go below deck  and find a propulsion 

system of strange design on the cellar deck. they are all amazed at what 

they see.  The captain discovers the bridge of the huge ship full of weird 

levers and instrumentation. Owens notices a placard on the ship's wheel 

mount on the 'Albatross' built at Newcastle in 1929, as well as a calendar 

dated 1930,and it all starts to make sense: the weird mist had transported 

them through a time portal from 1750 to the year 1930.....  

Is the crew of the 'Columbia' marooned forever in this particular time period ?

Is there any way back to their own time?

Make the discovery (Find out) in Part 10...."The Unknown World"

Posted the first day of each month.

Written 30th July 2013

Copyright © John Ginesi

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Mechanical men built with of bolts, steel and screws
Embedded with a computer program stating the Don’ts and Dos
Wiring the components demands so much care
Before the Machine men endures the tasks that even the strongest can not bear
With a back up battery in place
To help him keep up the pace
With a carefully molded mask on his head
And a fist made up of lead
And a reactor for a heart 
And this enables him kick start
In a fight you can tear one thousand men apart
 Engaging in so many tasks
As you are doctor, teacher and slave
And even conduct rescue missions 
But does this suggest that you are brave?
The ultimate war machine
With a rocket booster on your back
And a lot of armor and ammunition which you keep a nap sack
Feeling no emotions
You are told what to do
Everything is right as long as it is processed into you
Artificial limps and mechanical muscles
In the battle fields on earth
You replaced man in his tussles
Even on Mars and Venus
And beyond the Solar System
Performing a thousand tasks at once
So Herculean and I can’t even list them
Oh! Poor robot 
You can not feel love or hate
And only stimulates the taste of food on a plate
He could not comprehend what others regard as a joke
And would do exactly those words that they spoke
You can not understand the true meaning of passion 
Or affection
And turns way when he is needed for attention
He tries to mimic Adam
In looks and carriage
That won the hearts of so many damsels
Who even proposed marriage?
By pretending to be a man
In his black Tuxedo 
And even eats beans from a can
And travels incognito
With a telescopic eyes equipped with night vision technology
Your internal organs do not match human’s anatomy or physiology
So enjoy your servitude you faithful puppet
Dictated by your master’s strings
Behind the curtain
Or even with laser beams
One day a deadly virus corrupted your software
And you began to disobey your master which he could not bear
You fell in love 
And got married
For ten years he tarried
Despite the creator’s wish for a reunion
And instead you chose a rebellion
But man remains your master
And your system is shutdown
Before you commit more mischief in our town

Copyright © Olusegun Akanbi

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Tribute to Jimi Hendrix

He came from a distant galaxy
On his way to planet Earth,
he stopped over to visit Mars
but didn’t like the atmosphere
No clubs, outdoor concerts or studios
and just a few microscopic life forms,
thus the audiences were rather sparse
They were rather small-minded as well
and did NOT appreciate his music…

He couldn’t stay here very long either
The Polaris Council advised him to leave
(Many other galaxies to visit ya know)
However, I MAY have some good news
There’s an outside chance he may return
When he thinks we are ready…

Submitted for: Joe Maverick's contest 

Copyright © Tim Ryerson

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Shadows on a White Wall

Walking down a street in the factory district 
Suddenly - a shadow appears and blocks our light from the streetlamps
Then - the sound of steps - we are being followed
We see shadows on a freshly painted wall
We try to move quickly to a safe spot
But it's too late!
Engulfed by an alien being - we are filled with terror
In this unreal city we feel slimy arms around us 
We are too terrified to even cry out  - We're engulfed by a massive creature
Terrfying moments - Can we escape? Too late?
We are the next meal of a shadowy creature 
Who came from another solar system andour fragile forms
Soon come to a shadowy end

Copyright © Matthew Anish

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Politically Educated

Politically Educated Politics from the Greek, for relating to citizens A way to announce and make their collective decisions The art or science of running state affairs Including, Civil, Institution, Religious, Academic or Power shares. Social relations involving power or authority And methods and tactics; to apply a policy. History from the Greek meaning, inquiry or knowledge acquired by investigation Is the discovery collection, presentation and organisation It can also mean a time after writing was invented. We thank Herodotus and Thucydides for the modern study of history, so I am contented. Geography a science that studies the land inhabitants and phenomena of the earth Eratosthenes invented the word “Geography” for what it is worth. It seeks to understand all complexities of human and natural life I think he must have got bored one day, perhaps he didn’t have a wife.
Contest Entry sponsored By Dana'Lynn Smith By Mandy Tams

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl