Best Planetarium Poems
Leander, my teen-friend in Kalentong
So handsome and so white.
One time, we crossed the bridge of neverlong
Far away from Planetarium with kite.
We saw a painting on a high concrete wall...
He said, "Spoliarium, too big and too tall!"
I said, "No. It looks like one in our school auditorium."
When we turned around, we are already in a polyandrium.
Then we ran.
Who tweets toxic thoughts like a pump
And has shown that we are his sump?
The zone he has sewn
This chump dump he must own
Ain't Earth—it’s his clone—planet "Trump!"
Author's Note: What are they teaching at the planetarium (otherwise known as the kindergarten)? Mercury, Venus, Trump, Mars, Jupiter....
When we learned our elderly, kind granddad had died,
all paternal cousins traveled, gathered and cried.
Later, the ‘reception drive’ offered varied rides;
in Rachel’s auto, they shared a liquor-filled flask
and in Rob’s ancient van, a joint or two was passed.
If any cousin did not seek a high that day,
Terry drove sober now that she was freely gay.
At the reception, we all loved, giggled and shared.
Funny, that the sober car was the last one there!
In time, we caught up using our familiar flair.
Rob, Rachel and Rita’s Father had been paroled.
Rob still refused to pay taxes or live controlled.
Rachel lost her job when her flask fell out and rolled.
Rita found Jesus after holding marigolds
and walking naked down a long suburban road.
Mark was racing fast cars, playing music in bars
and had built a planetarium to view stars.
His maternal grandmother supplied the dollars
so why not avoid wearing a working collar?
Terry shared the same dollars-aplenty, flow-jar.
She had just graduated college with honors,
moved in with Sue (who then quit work as a mauler),
and now barely leaves their home built near water.
I shared my struggle to work a forty-hour week,
make sure my special needs child never feels defeat
and bear my third spouse, who keeps a petulant heat.
When a toast or a toke to Granddad was complete,
Mark grabbed his guitar and set a steady, good beat.
Each cuz, in turn, sang their made up line which was neat:
“We’re from the family tree of true dysfunction.
What others call stupid, we see as brave gumption.
We do not take kindly to outside instruction
stalling our families’ chaotic production.
If we pass loud gas, we won’t care if others laugh.
Now, just like real life, our song has gone off track.”
You may not believe this
but my last lover
was an extraterrestrial
which caused me great distress
the way she transformed me
her out of this world dress.
She brings winter with her overnight
pseudo-snow fell rocket high
a siren unlike all the other girls
a pleasing form to my human eyes
making love underneath force field
captivating planetarium starlit skies.
Kisses of rapture times warp speed
circling around the rings of Saturn
I will follow her to the end of the galaxy
my lips locked to hers, I love her
beam me up my darling and kiss me
my lovely and beautiful femalien...
Archimedes Fish
Archimedes
To whom mathematics seemed a breeze.
Had fish needing an aquarium.
But he invented a planetarium.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 22, 2010
Poetic form: Clerihew
A tragic hero in the perennial play
here tomorrow, gone today
A mere shadow in the Western sky
such a long sojourn but a brief
goodbye,
The treetops whisk the opaque planetarium
as the poignant gyroscope rotates into
delirium,
Birds turn South, leaves turn red
like a flame that burns bright before growing
dead,
A call out, among the torrent
lost in the waves, wind, and
current
The cacophony has been muted
a silent status quo has been rooted,
What little remains for the stranded
lost and alone,
exploited and branded.
For a relatively brief period in their lives,
they touched base with luxuries that they could
ill afford; with culture unallowed by both desire
and time. Their days were spent committing crimes
that fed their addiction to drugs. But at a rehab
center, they were reintroduced to some of the finer
things of life.
Teachings of Christ were at the heart and center of their
belief system and the hallmark of their program. Moreover,
there were other venues of culture that greatly aided in
their success. Among them was The Zoo.
Into their lives came the Museum of Science and Industry.
There, they could experience being connected to a reality
that improved rather than destroyed civilization. There,
perhaps they would connect to a challenge, a vision that
could assist in changing their lives. Such visits by them
must have been amazingly interesting and arresting;
enabling them to capture a fresh view of human ingenuity.
A new and broader view of the real world was also presented
to them by way of the Planetarium. Awesome observations of
the vast universe so unlike the average American city that
had limited their drug-infested lives. There was so much 'out
there' yet to be explored; so much 'in them' yet to be tapped.
The Zoo was another favorite place to go. Was it simply
a place to observe animals, or was there so much more
to be discovered? There was a golden opportunity to
reevaluate the use of cages, fences, barriers, and
partitions. Perhaps an ex-felon would conclude that
crime does not pay and that freedom is priceless.
I cannot be certain, but I suspect that the men
taken to such venues, especially the zoo, came
away with a greater appreciation for the good life.
One cannot help but realize the value of having
the wild in captivity, and at the same time acknowledge
that every living creature deserves and demands freedom.
051223PSCtest. Constance La France
Writing Challenge - 'Z' Words
Word Choice: Zoo
A mere whisper of a mortal is a card on a tree. Unopened. Oh what godly prowess is occurring at this time. At this the thistle of time where Theremins and terrapins catch thermometers in spins. Justification is rife. Short day is not a short night and a large whale in a pram or a cot cannot join large amounts of watered down conversation. Move not a mingling mangy moggy into a sack of potatoes as fish is the prefered diet for many of a meow meow. And next the time for the bouncy sun to call upon the planets laden with dinner trays. And all this whilst the giggling goo goo berries are in line formation. Monetary mingling making messy musical mirages. And pus. Yes pus. Oyster. Mr Oliver Oyster does not appreciate such dreadful catatonic category codes. So don't wash dishes in a four foot ball gown. Rapid is the eye that moves thrice. And circles a planetarium. Good isn't it?. Clever isn't it. Very structured isn't it? But when a ring donut carries a pixie on a hot day to a castle it is said there is much whistling. And a bird laughing in a tree. Dance. Good. Goodnight equals good afternoon and also good morning as an aura salutes an aura. Reconfiguration Z
Moonlight and night stars
Men, women, children, lovers…
Entrance to delight.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 17, 2010
Poetic form: Haiku
Situations stirring like a great big bee. Finishing annihilation aimed at a tree. Forty-six fishes means a great big line. And a pool of senses is neither a slime nor a faith. In a nine centimetre goblet there is existing a catacomb of unauthorized doctrines who seek to revoke a planetarium alignment at six o'clock and a wide rancid frog belching in a corner is merely akin to a large box of chocolates waltzing on a plate. But at the high speed cycle of a washing machine there cab exist 200 drones, a purple nightie, a silver molested glove, ten drawn swords and a sparkly dagger. Omit no orbic residue from a tidally induced flood. And a flour is not a flower it is not a baking in a two foot garden. Hahahahah synergistic syndrome symmetrically symbolised stirring sap syrup. And a giant horn of a herd rising and raising a radioactive beam. Oh prison not a prism. Pickle no paint. And curve no charisma. Hahahaha to it all. Ho how much you can do that for the purpose. And a dove. Dancing. With a curvaceous cabbage. Dawn that then demon. And chop. Chip. Xxxxx gravitational gibbons giving gratification xxxx hahahahah plaid pig pointing posts. Xxxxx cinematography z
…And so he asks ‘do you see that distant star?
Its beauty is in the darkness.’
…And I answer: thanks to the star I know what darkness is.
Where is my star?
Can I find it amidst every twinkling dot there is?
Yes, if I would only remember
I am not a planetarium viewer.
At the Planetarium, I saw them.
All alighted in the sky. I couldn't count them even if I tried.
Beautiful and shimmering, the beauty of diamonds in the sky.
Oh, what God has done such a merciful one. No beauty can behold it.
No one can make or copy. It's just as He has made it
and I appreciate it. So, the only place I can see the miracle in the sky.
The cloud has covered up the sky. And I wish that by and by
I can see it with the naked eye. There's so much to see out in
space nothing can take its place. A raw of shimming light, that
greet the days and the nights.
Have you ever stopped to think, we're just one link to this vast universe?. We're so busy running around. We don't take the time
to appreciate what God has made. Shame on us for it can be
all gone.
But I think it's time to do, take a trip to the Planetarium too
And see the wonders of our world. That's made for me and you.
Serenade a song bird then. Go on. It's great. Sit in trees or on rocks. Very pleasurable it is. Thank not a tank. Think not a tripod angling in with money. It is never wise to eradicate pollen. And pole axing at discotheques should only occur when the moon is oval and the room is triangular. Format stained is neither a gospel nor a weed. And harmonising with leopard printed heeled shoes displays nonchalance towards your fellow human. So we must all now rise and tango with ten suns, a planetarium and a biscuit tin. Biscuits can be quite good company. Full of character. And baked with breath. Breathing breeding buying bought beaded benign baked breads. And now that fish over there chuckling reading a newspaper. Nothing no one noted noticed needed numbers. And a 8000 foot goat is trotting around to many tunes. Great. Fantastic. Derive not a pea from a geometry set or a musical score. One nil two nil three nil now eat. Good. Xxxxx humanitarian harpsichords. Xxxxx quintessential Z
The pungent aroma of apricot, wafts by on the evening breeze,
from somewhere comes the sweet perfume of honeysuckle in bloom.
The stars hang in the summer sky, spreading forth a canopy,
and I am immersed in nostalgic waves of early childhood memories.
I recall a hillside house wherein first awareness was born,
and double French doors that unfurled unto my outside world.
Sunlight beams through French doors, made the kitchen bright and warm,
a cherry place I seem to recall to eat golden flakes of breakfast corn.
My outside world had a fence roundabout, arrayed in honeysuckle vines,
where was used as a slide and more an old inclined cellar door.
On summer nights it would become a planetarium fine,
where mother and I beneath heavens dome watched celestial jewels shine.
She would delineate constellations, like Scorpio and the Great Bear,
and their myths from days of old to brother and I unfold.
Apricot nectar from next door would drift on the warm night air,
then these happy evenings we would end, each with a little thank you prayer.
Other memories also brought to mind, although I know not why,
are of mother and a morning that a bird began to sing.
“Oh look, there is a bluebird”, I can still here soft reply,
then I turned to look outside, but just in time to see it fly.
These earliest childhood memories, and of the house upon a hill,
memories stirred by déjà vu I have tried to share with you.
Déjà vu and warm memories readily called forth still,
by sweet apricot and honeysuckle that in the evening dew distill.
But of these early things I still recall, and those forgotten not,
the most poignant are of mother and the times I spent with her.
Her loving ways and wisdom and the values that she taught,
also through time have remained with me and a successful life helped wrought.
planetarium experience
the second graders have no idea what to expect
it is dark and comfy
The narrator is behind us
Several turn to try and see her
She is behind a black booth
The sky gets dark
Stars come out
We hear about constellations
She ties in mythology
After a while my eyes begin to close
I have been awake since four this morning
I did not realize how tired I am
Second graders excited “oohs” and “aahs” keep me awake
I am grateful
What kind of chaperone would I be if they heard me snoring?
And I know they would have stepped over me in a pink minute