Best Satellites Poems


Find Me a Genie For Satellites Are Not Good

The mathematics and game theory-

‘isms’ and unipolarity-

barely gets through my head for ‘what they are?’ my satellite never told me-

 So, please! Find me a genie

 

Find me a gene for now I know-

These paradox of Bir Gurkhas

Of Clever Bush and Obama;

Of Hitler and Russia, and of Strict- Isolated CHINA;

They are not who I want to hear about-

I want to hear the stories of children of Palestine-

 Women of Iraq- Afghanistan and Pakistan

So, Please ! find me a genie who could predict;

How many times would a heart tremble?

Heart of a brother who’s been mocked-

mocked by the system invisible -

they say he in bullets looks adorable

 

Find me a genie- he could show me,

the crystal-

for I wish to see struggle

struggle of those who’s childhood was not easy;

WHY?

Because, they were raped and their parents were murdered

they were never said ‘you are human, a beautiful creature’

and were made to play with missiles- the dead ones

American; Russian; Italian; and the list goes on

I wish to see it all;

For I want to behold- those falling tears-

tears of mourn for deceased-

tears of joy for who survived-

tears of love and hatred-

I wish to drink it all and fill my lake

 

Find me a genie for I need to fill my lake

 for I see it is empty

And the fishes in there are going thirsty-

They have thirst of truth-

they are hungry of reality-

They wish to drink love for they were being fed poison-

For chemicals were being drained from big giant industries of satellite

So, please! I beg- find me a genie for satellite ain’t good

(title of the poem inspired by movie Turtles can Fly)

Space Veteran

Put the rifle back  

in that shattered bag,  

don't want to forget  

traumas from my hell. 

  

Geysers in my soul  

only need to explode, 

watch me hike tonight  

on my satellites.

Premium Member Satellites

The planets in our system
We have grown to call our own
Circling in their Orbit
Satellites near our home
Typical of us to assume
That they belong to you and i
But us Humans tend to grab, everything we spy
 
We have even divided the moon
How do we know its for us to say
There was no Lunar agenda
That i remember to this day
We just made the rules
And divided our Satellite
Just trying to figure it out
Who actually thought, that was right
 
Maybe our Earths a Stat
To become a Satellite
Are there more intelligent beings
Who may share with us that's right
Until we get that greeting
We are a sleeping Satellite


Who's Calling

Satellites beaming
a million signals at us
our phones understand

sending instructions
on our pending destruction
to our eager hands

with one finger’s touch
we’ll get the answers we need
who sent the signal

Satellites

I was listening to the Angels they've been broadcasted on Satellite 
All sounds surround me now
 close the curtains
Shut out the light
Take the darkness that I breathe out of me
Screams out into the night
I can't sleep till the sun rises
Collapsing after running for my life
 The things that haunt me can never be brought to the surface

Premium Member Midnight Voyage

The house grows still as day begins to fade,
Drowning in pools of long and dusky shade.
I keep my vigil while the embers die,
A patient shadow under twilight’s eye,
Waiting until the bruised, receding light
Surrenders to the majesty of night.

Down through the hall I tread a quiet track,
A thick, heavy blanket on my back,
Woven for warmth, soft wool of amber grain,
To navigate this grassy, cool domain.
I carry it into the backyard air,
Where dusk has set its cool and misty snare,
And spread its gentle weight across the lawn,
A tether till the coming of the dawn.

I stretch out flat upon the cushioned yard,
With the cool covered earth, soft, but hard.
The lawn becomes an ocean, shadow-deep,
Where daytime memories lay down to sleep,
And high above, the night opened wide
Into a reverse abyss, on my blanket I ride.

Then comes the spark, the silent, blinding bloom:
Silver pinpricks piercing through the gloom.
Ancient fires, suspended in the frost,
Whisper forgotten secrets to the lost.
Among the motionless and timeless spheres,
A fleet of modern iron astrolabe appears.
Satellites, like ghost-ships forged of glass,
Tacking through vacuum currents as they pass.

And other phantoms dance across the dome:
Erratics, tumbling through their stellar home,
Motes of cosmic dust that glance and skip,
Fireflies that break the dark, then slip.
A streak of chalk across a slate of night,
A sudden flash, a ricochet of light,
Bouncing like polished stones on polished glass
Before they fade and into shadow pass.

Anchorless, I float upon my raft,
Swept up in midnight’s quiet, dizzying craft,
A solitary watchman of the deep,
While all the world below lies fast asleep.
…. all the world below lies fast asleep.


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