The stars are out and they’re worth considering,
with their glimmering, glittering, shimmering,
like fireworks flickering but more regularly appearing
in the black hole sky.
In Europe there are Ukrainians, Albanians, Scandinavians,
Romanians, Lithuanians and maybe a couple of Canadians,
but out there, in the dark black void-of-space, there are Aliens.
Ok, well, statistically, there are bound to be aliens.
your author has no first-hand knowledge of extraterrestrials
I have galactic questions though—you better believe it. For instance:
If light is the fastest thing in the universe,
why is darkness already there when light arrives?
Could dark-matter be chocolate? and
How can we roll our clocks back if time only moves forward?
This is when having a physicist for a boyfriend is handy
—as well as those times you need a ‘close encounter.’ wink.wink
.
.
A song for this:
Fiction by Yard Act
CanyonsMan/Woman/Chainsaw
when they fly into our atmosphere, aliens and cosmonauts lock their doors
seal up their windows, and put their favorite things into sealed safety pods
they have watched our old movies and they see we are corrupt
there are a few good ones on this planet, but lots of criminals and thieves
Murderers too; they have seen C.S.I., Criminal Intent, and Forensic Files
We not only look angry, evil and frighteningly selfish,
we look like murdering marauders, we are nightmares.
Not only the aliens but the star dwellers, cosmic creatures and space spirits.
They have all seen what we do to each other in black and white and color.
They can barely imagine how particularly violent we could be to strangers.
Proof positive there's intelligent life in the galaxy
light years away in outer space
they know better than to contact us
and we call ourselves the human race.
I'm turned off by cupidity
and over the torpidity
I've had it to here with stupidity.
Every two hundred years or so
they do a fly-by analysing
investigating what lies down here below
without stopping it's not surprising.
Can't understand man's mentality
I'm done with the insanity
I've turned my back on humanity.
Grasping at straws in the back of a stack
we've lost the plot there's no needle to be found
in the wrong place at the wrong time flying 'round the moon
when the answer is here on the ground.
Can't unring the bell the world has gone to hell
there's no turning back
I'm waiting for the aliens to pick me up take me away
shooting for the stars one of these crazy days.
the aliens did not come empty handed, they brought their own camper
It had a clothes chute, a laundry room, and an empty clothes hamper
They showed me their kitchen and their tv room, which was amazing.
I turned and saw three more aliens on beds, they were just lazing
They offered me a tv dinner, and I thought what the heck
the meat tasted crunchy, like a brittle turkey neck
there was something that looked a bit like potatoes on the sink
They offered me that too, but it turned my stomach, as it was pink
We had a good time, even though I did not know their language at all
They measured my tummy, and made a note that I was not so very tall
I recognized the numbers, they were similar to those we use here.
They hugged me too hard, making my eyeballs pop and tear.
three aliens camped out in the desert in the heat of the day
Their skin which had been green, turned a tiny bit more gloomily gray
They were huddled around a campfire or was it a TV?
I tried to tiptoe past them, hoping their intentions were friendly
One of them pointed and my head began to twirl around my neck
It rotated three-hundred-and-sixty-degree circle, what the heck?
the aliens laughed; one of them handed me a tin full of beer
I did not dare reject it, because I was now trembling with fear
funny stories were told in their alien language, which I did not know.
I was relieved at two thirty-five a.m. when they finally let me go.
they had a giggle that clued me as to when I should laugh
I ran all the way home to hug my cuddly, a furry giraffe.
Unknown
a wooden statue
carved by unknown hands perhaps
an E.T. worshipped
by an ancient native tribe
who witnessed unknown aliens
Hallmark?
sappy stories of rich or
upper middle-class people
starting businesses or
trying to save existing ones
handsome men and
beautiful women
newly divorced
or never married
modern versions of
daytime soap operas
you may not watch for a month
and not miss anything
good thing my wife has
a television in the guest room
downstairs I can watch
ANCIENT ALIENS!!!!!
What is that gizmo on your head?
Little doodad his son quickly said
Is it a whatchamacallit or a rinky dink?
Whatever you want Daddy, whatever you think.
The pool-side aliens who had been listening were trying to decipher
Words that made no sense, like vacuum, dust, and diaper
Gizmo? Doodad? Rinky Dink?
Do we have the right planet, do you think?
Let’s find an easier language to study,
said the Captain Little Buddy.
It started as a quiet day..
The sun was bright, the sky was gray.
Then shadows stretched across the ground..
A humming noise, a buzzing sound.
The TV flickered, phones went dead..
A chilling static filled our heads.
The air grew thick, the winds stood still..
A silver light danced on the hill.
From metal ships so vast and tall..
They hovered low above us all.
A hundred eyes, so strange, so bright..
Gleamed like stars in endless night.
No war they waged, no guns they drew..
Just silent stares from ones who knew.
With hands of light and minds so vast..
They showed us glimpses of the past.
They spoke without a single breath..
Of cosmic life, of love, of death.
Of distant worlds with skies so red..
Of fallen stars and kings long dead.
Then just as fast as they appeared..
They turned away, the sky was cleared.
A final flash, a blinding glow..
And in the dark, they let us go.
Now some believe and some do not..
But those who saw have not forgot.
For on that day, both strange and true..
We met the ones who always knew.
Delicious green and red apples,
Grow in the farm by hard working people.
Carefully transported to the fruit stores,
Displayed for the shoppers to adore.
Then they were in my possession,
Planned to give them to a dear friend,
Who used to love and enjoy them,
But all of a sudden, the fruits and me,
We, to the recipient, became aliens and enemies,
And hence we both were rejected as his favorites,
Somehow just because we related to the dirty system,
by the definition from this person.
I would rather let the fruits rot and become fertilizers,
Than let him be the fruits' consumer.
Who knew how to use negative and aggressive language,
Unkind and hurtful words towards others.
He must have sold or lost his soul to the evils,
In the Lunar Calendar month of the ghosts and devils.
A spirit month was the traditional name by Asian.
It lasted 28 days, but ended my friendship forever,
After knowing him for six months, six days and six hours.
I thought he could be my friend forever.
By the Way was his private surname,
66 was his nickname and
6 was his favorite number game.
The other night
Visiting in a dream a foreign land
We waited in expectation
The arrival of a group of alien dignitaries
Somehow involved in guiding the culture.
When they approached across the sound
In a dark and rough hand-hewn canoe
I ran out to take pictures
Only to find a half dozen or so headless chickens
Standing patiently in their effortlessly gliding craft.
Superior alien advisors in the form
Of small dark brown headless chickens,
Baffling for sure,
And frustrating when I couldn’t get any pictures…
A sure sign of dreaming or just a block by aliens.
Yet the humor of the moment didn’t escape me
As I turned to tell another baffled guy
To look up Mike The Headless Chicken
A real thing that survived almost two years
With only a brainstem.
Which provides some clue I guess
To the symbol of superior beings without heads
And thus complicating brains
Dark and primitive in their dugout
And yet still, within the absurdity of it all, superior.
(11/20/24)
Mary’s behavior is bizarre to most
not to me, her favorite earthly host
bread on your nose is what aliens do
as is painting dark elm tree limbs light blue
her planet is seen at two a.m.
She likes to watch it from my son’s playpen
her actions might seem odd to little old you
but she does what all good aliens want to do
[X] [0] [A] [X] [0] [X] [L] [X] [0]
[0] [I] [X] [0] [0] [E] [0] [X] [X]
[0] [0] [0] [N] [X] [0] [X] [X] [S]
I have a straw.
Found it around.
Now it's mine.
Only a little dirt from the ground.
Into my milk.
A deep breath I take.
The bubbles are formed,
In the milk lake.
Frothing over the glass.
Down to the table.
On to the floor.
Momma said," Stop blowing bubbles,
Or I'll Take your milk and throw it into the sink!
You need to drink it and not make a mess."
I don't suppose she saw,
The aliens landing on the bubbles.
Bet I'm going to be in trouble.
Grasping my glass,
I emptied it fast.
Saved the world from alien bubbles at last!
alien armpits
dripping shimmering sweat orbs
on the crop circle
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.