Long Aliens Poems
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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.
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
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.)
(“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)
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
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
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.
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
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 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