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Life On Mars

One day a pale star began to glow in scarcely-noted nebula where it swirled. And this five thousand million years ago, to bathe in light a distant, dusky world. Lightning streaked amid primordial dawn— stroked a soupy mire of mute quintessence. Diverse concatenations urged a spawn and coaxed life into coalescence. A hive and every mind within related, yet diverse and mild in their expression. Collectively their members liberated, verisimilitude their progression. Myriad were their subtle variations. Legion were their specialties outlandish. In unison they laid a world’s foundations. Limitless the skills they had to brandish. But in Mars' core, dying breaths were taken; fury from creation’s fires abated. Absent these, Ares was forsaken— magnetic lines of flux truncated. The shield from radiation thus destroyed, innocence’ pogrom bitterly ensued. Air swept away forever to the void, sentience vanquished—majesty subdued.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 5/30/2016 3:31:00 PM
An excellent poem on the topic. I always found the solar system so interesting. Their wonders never cease to amaze! And, your poem has that same affect!
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Mark Peterson
Date: 6/5/2016 11:19:00 PM
Kelly, wonderful of you to comment. I've been fascinated with astronomy since an early age.
Date: 5/13/2016 4:55:00 PM
haha, I love that you used the noun version in your comment to me below! Excellent comment!! (and welcome to the senior club of being forgetful. I actually found a theater who considers 60 as senior prices. Yay for me!!)
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Mark Peterson
Date: 6/5/2016 11:20:00 PM
I'm not a sore loser (at least not much anymore). Still, I plan to keep an eye on you!
Date: 5/13/2016 10:59:00 AM
You did an excellent job, Mark. I noticed Andrea's comment right below mine, and could not believe that this did not make the winners' list, so went to check!! Full marks to you #7 // paul
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Mark Peterson
Date: 6/5/2016 11:21:00 PM
Thanks, Paul. I meant to enter the poem but forgot to press the magic button. Thanks for commenting.
Date: 5/13/2016 9:49:00 AM
Good grief, didn't this one win?? It's SO skillfully written. I changed my myriads of poppies after what you said, but not for the reason you said. I should have said A myriad of (not making it plural with myriads) The dictionary gives it as BOTH noun and adj. and myriad poppies is a good sound!From the Dictionary: noun 1.a countless or extremely great number. "networks connecting a myriad of computers"
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Mark Peterson
Date: 5/13/2016 5:10:00 PM
Yes, myriads is redundant. Better keep my thoughts to myself from now on, so I don't just open my mouth to change feet. Reminding me what is found when you look up the definition of redundant. It is "See redundant."
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Mark Peterson
Date: 5/13/2016 11:13:00 AM
Thanks for your comment. Failure to make it on the winners list may have been due to my failing to go and actually enter it. Thus, I wrote the letter, stuck it in an envelope, put the stamp on, sealed and never dropped it in the mailbox. Seniors do this sort of thing.
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Mark Peterson
Date: 5/13/2016 11:11:00 AM
Thanks, Andrea. All right, I'll yield, but I think the noun form is a more modern adaptation. I learned of it from old paper dictionaries before myriads of computer networks existed! Of course, I also rail against sherbert instead of sherbet and poinsettias vs. poinsettas. The spellcheck here just underlined the latter as incorrect! But to me it's like listening to someone singing off key!
Date: 5/13/2016 1:50:00 AM
I agree with what Silent One has said. The words perfectly run in tandem here...your style is unique and shows that your heart and soul is [poetry...Brilliant my friend ...A7 Thank you for pateintly reading my poem...:)
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Mark Peterson
Date: 5/13/2016 1:54:00 PM
What wonderful words, Red. Thanks for stopping by to comment. Much appreciated.
Date: 5/10/2016 3:57:00 PM
Mark, I have no clue what to do for this contest and you wrote with such ease and flow! Good luck it will be winner I just know it :)-luloo
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Mark Peterson
Date: 5/10/2016 5:55:00 PM
Luloo: Thanks for stopping by and leaving me your delicious comment. I must tell you, we all sit down to an empty page and hope that something will come in that we might fill it. Literally, clear your mind and keep it that way. Thoughts and words will come, and your poem will write itself. Best of luck.

Book: Shattered Sighs