Long Aliens Poems

Long Aliens Poems. Below are the most popular long Aliens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aliens poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Worries of Darlene and Dharma

My Aunt Darlene used up hours worrying.
Turning down invitations, sitting in one spot.
Afraid she would fall if she got up.
People brought her meals, so she would eat.
It is unclear whether or not she ever used a commode.
Darlene worried about the weather, the time, aliens, space travel, ESP.
She worried about sugar, cancer, diabetes, mice, snakes and pigs.
There was a list of possible worries on her refrigerator.
When she ran out of worries, she referred to it.

My cousin Dharma Renee had worrying jitters, worrying tremors.
She spent a day or two so worried, they had to straight jacket her.
I watched as they tore her out of the arms of her prissy cat.
Wondering what benefit incessant worrying does.
She screamed possible worries to me as she was being locked up.
I was worried I might not remember them,
so I reviewed them in my sleep.
Food allergies, lightning, wolves, bears, tigers, lions, monsters under the bed.
I am worried right now that I have forgotten two of them.

Uncle Dartmouth thought both Darlene and Dharma Renee were silly
Why worry? He would ask me. ”What good does it do?”
I thought I had an argument for it, but I could not come up with anything.
“What bad does it do?” would have been easier to answer.
I looked over at Aunt Darlene to see if she was listening.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
I would not have worried about Darlene at all
If I had known she had died of a blood clot from sitting in her draahmed chair.
No worries now.


Excuses

The dog ate my homework 
When I turned around 
My humor was stolen 
By a circus clown 

I was abducted by aliens
Is the reason I'm late  
To pick you up 
For our dinner date 

I dropped the ball 
With the sun in my eyes 
Are a few of the excuses 
And the reason why 

I either do or I don't 
Do the things that I do 
So I'll stick with them all 
As my excuse 

I must have forgot 
There was a time change 
As my clock stopped 
On the very same day 

I lost my wallet 
With your number inside 
This would be the truth 
If it wasn't a lie 

I ran out of gas 
So I had to hitchhike 
I made a left 
Instead of a right 

I either do or I don't 
Do the things that I do 
So I'll stick with them all
As my excuse
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Quality cannon fodder '

The subject matter seems in short
 supply.?
Here i'll offer some ideas for
 just 
why.? In decades not so long gone.' 
There was a type of life.' Many 
dreamed and acted upon
This fact.' A fact is an in-ailianable 
componant of history.' This i 
point out to
Maybe ideal-illogical rich 
billionaires.? So these other
 people not as rich.' Were yet invested in many ways that made things tick..
There were traits like
Civic and neighbouhood pride..Tried and tested friendship; mateship maternal love
Also good paternal values were highly  esteemed,
 there was no real wish into dystopia to slide..Now to the pittance that these folk strove for.! A stable life, a paid off mortgage..All with dedication and struggle
That is for sure.' And this was passed
 along, with leisure; sports
 games pub gatherings; weddings and many
 Other frames.'
The safety valves that were released once
And again ' so not for billions a base existed that had home values, aspirations
Also were almost of no limit.' Now such a focused citizenry who played to the rules ( oh wow oh gee ) 
they produced the premium 'fodder for war' they were in sync
With the system..It was well.? their oyster and you could serve them raw. Yet through
The decades all was stripped away.' And
 then came  'the con-vid scam' very sad but hey..Subjected to planned
 genocide tested
Herded..Locked inside.' and further to all this the blatant aim to remove their modest
Motivational norms.' A safe dry roof over their heads, a chance for sport, a time to wed' no hope for the
 young no place for the old.' And the promise they would
Be robbed of land and gold.' And the loopy
Billionairs are surprised.? When willing armies do not arise.' Apart from armies of un-verfied aliens moving in..I think the billionairs should think again.' Or maybe they just don't do joined up.? One exoression explains it all they have ( stuffed it all up.)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Scent of Musk

(“The Mothership”, 2024, photo collage of original encaustics)

The Scent of Musk

What the world needs now
Is love sweet love, 
No, not just for some….
And so it has always been.

This is our heart’s desire and birthright,
Yet the dream just slips away
Held for but an instant
Or reached for in vain.

Thus we learn to cooperate 
Form bonds and institutions 
With friends and foe alike 
To hold that dream a little longer.

But despite what we need
The world today is hellbent on hate,
And what is there left to stop 
This rising tide of jihad by any other name?

Judaism and Christianity have proven themselves
Unable to contain Abdullah, their not so little cousin,
While Hindu and Buddhist long ago learned
They couldn’t stop his Western hordes.

So we need a new religion 
To subdue the old, replacing tired ideals
With something bright and shiny, cosmic 
In both physical and metaphorical senses.

What we need is a revelation, 
Not revolution, for the new millennium,
Something that unites us all
With awe inspiring wonder and sobriety.

A trinity of revelations from the stars;
Elohim with his unborn Light, 
Gabriel in his chariot of fire
And then bear hug for Muhammad.

But this time from the ground up
Uniting inner and outer space;
Restless natives and desperate aliens
All searching for their promised land.

Lifting all like boats on the tide
Or a rocket to Mars
Returning as it rose
To launch again, and again.

This is what the world needs now
A unity of vision and technology 
And one man’s prosperity
To make it all real.

Surely I jest you say,
And yes, but in serious earnest 
My mind infused with the scent of Musk 
Blowing on a wind of change…

(5/17/25)
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Stereotypologies

If you were a Christian
during various Inquisitions
and pogroms against Jewish communities
and aboriginal tribes,

If you had been a Christian slave owner
trading lack of co-empathic love
for your zealous theoretical salvation agenda,

Would a faithful Moslem or Jewish witness
reasonably assume
your being Christian
also means you are a proud and loyal member
of a terrorist cult for hate and death
of other cultures
other Earth pilgrims
with diverse experiences and beliefs?

Would nonChristians reasonably express concern
about your commitment to strong family values
and sacred scriptural hospitality?
Have concerns about your healthy capacity
for Wonder and Awe
confronted by vast diversity
of lilies in fields
trees in forests
fish in seas.

And, if you personally believed in an omnipotent God
of and for multicultural Peace on Earth,
as in Heaven,
then you would not choose to remain
a terrorist,
a monoculturing
supremacist
SuperElite Christian
entitled to declare international Inquisitions
for crimes against WinLose Capital Worship
as you and your personal tyrannical idols
assume to be pathological-power appropriate,
sufficient,
efficient for colonizing the hopeless
nature/spirit 
Here/Now 
secular/sacred aliens

And ego-supremely harvesting diversely commodified lilies,
and trees
and fish
to extinction of Earth's multiculturally graced health.

If you were a Jesus follower,
would you aspire to any less than
a dual vocation?
Ecologist 
inviting all Earth's forests and oceans and desert habitats
and theologist 
witnessing all Earth's humane-divine cooperative spirits


Heal Our Land

Heal our land

On this busy lane our works do melt
Yet life in nature non could query
Fighting it from birth
Till in grave of less worry

Our hope is laid
On the teachings so given to the heart 
Build our hope and let us glory in the lord
For all works are in vain on the mother earth 

How pleasant is it being in heaven? 
Than the waste we're in this land
Has history not repeat itself in our haven?
Forsaking God in the choice of whom to lead

Our choices are daily base on our glutton
Setting aside the future that's laid before us
That in ignorance do press a forbidden button 
Making us aliens in our house

Yet celebration galore 
In a self made failure 
Oh our land is sick
In pain the saviour we seek

Joy from the inner mind is key
Not one from taooma and macaroni 
This in a minute can make one pee
But only leverage on our money 

Heal our land please 
Please, please heal us all
The pain is much 
And groaning is bigger than a mall. 

©?olorunleke olorode
Form: Rhyme

Ancient Aliens

Ancient aliens rise
 from sandy caves and rifts 
 lay open hidden truths and gifts
in revealing their demise.

The possibilities of Jupiter and Mars arrival
 hint that we are the civilizations continued survival.

Those secrets that lay beneath the surf
 were purposely well hidden in the dirt of earth.

Revealed through recovered and deciphered texts and script
 the purveyors of modern day interpreted manuscripts,
speak a language of the past unfastened
 while today slips easily away not lasting, ever passing.

Perhaps it is only what is left of us
 and we have lived before upon this enduring crust. 

Who will remain in the futures soon to be past
 to relay the truth of who we are and what we cast?

Ancient aliens rise once more
 and tell 
 the story well 
of who we were.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Curse

Beads of sweat roll down my back,
Feeling sick I nearly yack.
Body quivers, hands now shake
Tremors of my bodily earthquake.

Heard my name; I've been called
Stairs handrail I tightly hold.
I tap on the door to my right
Nerves prepares me for quick flight.

'It' stood head to toe in protective wear
An alien! I thought with irrational fear
Another voice says "please take a seat"
Two same aliens of meet and greet.

I go and sit in a reclining chair
Laid flat back; looking up I stare.
A long, sharp needle swiftly appears
The injection begins, I'm close to tears.

They're ready to proceed on my tooth
Rigor mortis sets me aloof.
Drilling starts, I fear the worse
Teeth and dentists are my curse.

14.06.22
Form: Rhyme

Looking Back Through a Front Windscreen

Inevitably places have changed,
where I was born looks like an alien city to me,
it's now a tourist trap for indigenous aliens.
The world was younger back then.
people were more dangerous yet much kinder.

We once carried books around,
we loaded cars and pushbikes
with travel books and the poetry of adventurers.
We were old enough to be piratical.

Of course the young are always dumb,
the smarter they became the dumber we got,
it's a kind of self-shackling.

I know we early comers
belong somewhere in this world,
but we abide half-hidden and liking it.

I recognize who I was and where,
however only in lost maps
once busily crisscrossed.

Maybe I am too young to forget,
it will probably get much better
as distracting rainbows turn slowly
to blancmange.

the aliens

The aliens with purple hair
are invading from another world
even though their hair might be
        fluorescence 
                   deep
their ideology is
                   shallow 
The seeds are sown
Tic
     Toc
And through time your bloom 
   of freedom will grow
but will the expense be paid
    by the blood of me?

open your mind and let us in 
listen to the stories we tell  

climb down from your mountain
        the mountain 
          you stand upon 
staring down as you judge

       so come down
stand upon the even ground
      and see what I see
instead of bringing the darkness

  the darkness of storm clouds
      covering the light

the darkness of storm clouds
     covering the past

it`s downpour 
        falling upon all buried souls

      it`s lightning flashes
shattering the walls of imagination
            
there`s a saying that can unite humanity 
         [if you care to heed]
“an eye for an eye leaves the world blind”
       So open your blind eyes 
And don`t be guided by
those that molded your mind 
     
    Can you understand?
            or 
 do you need me to take 
                      you by the hand

don`t take me hostage to 
                        your prejudices
   don`t enslave me by
                        your ideology

Our differences we can live a compromise

  With a little understanding
    this life we all can share as one
and travel down the road together
            but
 The alien with purple hair
 drives a wedge into our souls

Wanting me to live life
  down upon bended knee

   Leaving me to feel like 
    humanity is standing 
      at the crossroads
© Markus Jay  Create an image from this poem.

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