Long Sci fi Poems
Long Sci fi Poems. Below are the most popular long Sci fi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sci fi poems by poem length and keyword.
Fine script moves fond message,
Words now groove clear passage.
From old times to new age,
Sci-fi chimes hurl new rage.
Turn the page on strange times,
Science can stage change of rhymes.
See new stuff on new grounds,
Same old path with mad rounds.
See time trace a new beat,
Face the face that lines treat.
Charm trades well as acts tell,
Bad as hell the plots dwell.
Good guy fights the bad world,
Dark the night where scenes twirl.
Classic tale in new light,
All things pale in clear sight.
Cherry bite and sure plight:
Seek to site fight or flight.
Hero finds villain here,
Purpose finds end of fear.
Leon Enriquez
10 January 2016
Singapore
Besma, rhyme old poetess
The word for her a charming princess
Poetry is her valiant knight
A guiding Muse who pops at night
So obsessive she is about spelling
With a genuine flair for creative writing
Her forte is the soulful human touch
So elated when praised as such
Watching romance and action films her leisure
Reading and listening to music for her a pleasure
Horror movies make her heart sink
For sci-fi stories she has no flowing ink
To serve and enlighten, her wish and dream
With Love, peace and joy Humanity will beam
To help the world beautify, that’s her aim
Not just a goal, for her a right to claim..
Bio Poetry Contest sponsored by : Julianne Williams
A new day,
see the magical sunrise. I need my coffee, then let's write away.
I will need to type many words,
speak my thoughts on this page.
Words of love,sci-fi,bible and more,
go down for all of us to enjoy.
5 Words Are: Day, Speak, Love, Us, I
Book: Have You Ever Heard An Angel Speak?
Date Written: 10/9/2020
Drop worship for warship
In favor of study
Loose cults and the visions
As these satellite
The timing of systems
Exisitng in point
May plane this or may not
Appear alright
The Godess of frequencies
Wasn't the point
Of Greek atmosphere
Updated Hecate
The threesome triangles
Of triangulation
Vibration of string
And foe eating the bait
Debate of opinions
Hardship of measures
The layer between you and I
There's magic
There's rational
These are the surphase
And these would be stupid sci fi
There is tactics
There is strategies
These are of entropy
Point you want to achieve
Imposed false authority
Irrespectful depictions
Delusions, allusions of peace
The peace of the mind
The tension, the tensors
Anxiety of those fields
Instead of the processing
For wrongly obectives
It capsules of harships
Does build
So much for the purpose
Internal exclusions
The flawless and linear path
Inadequate guesses
Intelligent Gauss
Manifestations of wrath
The Godess of measure
Ain' bound to Justicia
The flock of the spherical cows
The polarization
The mesh and the mashes
Geomtetry twists of the times
At entrance I am standing
But what am I guarding
With these the two torches of mine
Metallica/_/Nothing+Else+Matters+(acoustic)
asfar as mitary payer may go in fact
just this monet a perosn who wouold receive bullet in the head had a weord jerk slightly othe right
and DOWN
Metallica/_/Nothing+Else+Matters+(acoustic)
While Shepherds watched their flocks by night all seated on the ground
The ewes collected up their lambs and gathered them around
"Listen now," the old Ewe said, "you young lambs listen well,
If you all want to grow to sheep then hark to what I tell
You may see lights up in the sky, or coming cross the downs
They could be aliens my dears, from space, or other towns
They may use flashy coloured beams or other fancy sights
But sometimes they have dim headlamps and indicator lights"
"It does not matter how they come or from what other lands
Aliens are just as bad who drive white transit vans
So lambs who plan to wander off and get up to no good
Can get sheepnapped to Cygnus Prime, or maybe Cricklewood
And whether you are beamed aboard, or bundled in a sack
The aliens have got you, and you won't be coming back
A simple truth for young lambs to, within their noddles, keep
Is alien companionship is never good for sheep"
"It matters not a sci-fi whit dissected in a lab,
Or spiced and served with napkins in a curry or kebab
The preparations, much the same, occuring on the way
Are what you can undoubtedly expect to spoil your day!"
The little lambs were chastened much and some quite overcome
And resolved that they would keep themselves close to their mum
But other things were happening and shepherds on the ground
Beheld an Angel visiting, with glory spread around
"Fear Not", he said for mighty dread had seized their troubled minds
"Great tidings of great joy I bring to you and all mankind"
The sheep reckoned that was not them and were much relieved
It did not really matter if the shepherds were deceived
But still, they thought, 'twas best be off, although no need to hurry
And one or two thought shepherds might improve turned into curry
The night was dark and shepherds eyes were full of holy light
And so the sheep all silently crept off into the night
Leaving shepherds to their fate somewhere among the stars
The sheep hit Bethlehem's nightspots, the clubs, the pubs and bars.
I bid thee welcome upon my doting journey midst the forest boughs.
Give thee welcome to this, my visioned passage into the trees.
Thrice bound within the wood's dark embrace.
Where ancient tales did lead our youths apace.
Wondrous visions served as a hiding place.
In spectacles of many-hued grace.
An aged sprite hath slumbered there for ages told,
Invoking air, and fire, and waters cold.
Leading dreamers down a winding way,
Of folded parchment where inklings stay..
There, the mind doth drink and feast its fill,
Midst gods and gnomes and fey of wondrous skill!
The Ascent to Wonder!
Lo! In the distance, a mountain peak doth rise!
Tis Asgard beckoning to the mortal eyes!
Where winged insects meet with sci-fi strange!
And stars do sprout wherever feel may engage.
Into another dream the spirit flies,
Creeping through the heights of rhythmic verse!
To seek the rugged bards who myths rehearse!
Green-cladd poets, blessed with thoughts divine.
Whose phenomenal folk in glory shine.
Fierce spirits of the air in ceaseless flight.
Forevermore, in paths of infinite light!!!!
The Return of Radiance
Thirdly, unto the realm of light once more.
Where sunbeams pierce the forest's ancient floor.
Through gracious trees the warmth of wisdom flows.
As from the seeker's mind, a vision grows.
A truth eternal born of wisdom's might!
Trapped in the forest,
These old stories carried youth into the woods.
Extraordinary dreams to hide in.
Polychromatic spectacles.
An old elf dozing there for years.
Invoking air, fire and water, leading dreamers down a wondrous path!
MULTIVERSE ME*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What if I've lived the exact present I’m living now before,
doesn't it make sense to think of it as though...
there is another part of me in another universe,
going through the same thing?
Should I believe in the multiverse theory,
for I cannot prove that we are not alone.
Should I believe there is a reason why
just because I feel the skies talking to me every night?
Should I believe someone's message is reaching me
through the beams of the moon every night?
My skin soaks in the possibility
like a flower blooming, drawn to the light.
Do you ever think of a time difference
between one universe and the other?
What if I am born here on Earth and after I die,
my soul travels to another universe
and relives the same story?
What if...
I am a piece of my own soul
which is split up and placed
in different universes?
Is this the stuff of science fiction,
or is it non-fictional, a reality waiting to be explored?
*this poem (originally titled "Alterverses") was published in Sci-Fi Stir Fry Anthology, William Mays editor/publisher July 2025.
At 25, I'm a sketch at best,
a half-drawing waiting to be coloured.
I could tell you that my hair is blonde,
thick and wavy, never dyed.
I could confide to you that my eyes are green,
but they turn blue when I cry.
Should I tell you about my only tattoo -
there on my shoulder,
where a sunflower blooms?
How about my love for spicy foods
or anything chocolate - my sweetest tooth.
I adore books of any kind,
from philosophy, art, and history
to sci-fi, suspense, and mystery -
if I could, I'd live in a library.
I love to draw the human face,
but I'd rather paint an unknown place.
I'm stubborn and patient and loyal,
and I'd like to think I'm unspoiled.
I dream of a cottage by the sea
where I could write all the time
beside weeping willow trees.
But the truth of all truths?
I'm more than pleased
to be a tiny drop of water
in this sea of humanity,
hoping to ripple the water
just a little.
Inspired by Frank's "Self Portrait" contest
Oh, look! Open sky!
Cosmic Wave Sci-fi poem.
Moonbeams beat softly.
Oooooooo Oooooooo Oooooooo.
Aaaaaaaa Aaaaaaaa Aaaaaaaa.
OoooooooOooooooo Oooooooo.
Aaaaaaaa Aaaaaaaa Aaaaaaaa.
Wow, wow, wow, oooo, la, la.
Shhhhh. Shhhhh. Shhhhh. Shhhhh.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.
Oh, man, that's so good.
Don't hop. Oooooo. La. La.
Shush, shush, shush, shush.
Oooooooo. Shining, glittery, sparkling.
Stars emerge at twighlight. Oh! (Wow)
Oooooooo. Oooooooo. Oooooooo.
Aaaaaaaa. Aaaaaaaa. Aaaaaaaa.
Sensualmente Cosmos glittering.
Oh. Whoosh. Uuuuuh. Oh! OH! Oh!
Ogham symbols. Uuuuu. Uuuuu.
Aaaaaaaah. Aaaaaaaah. Aaaaaaaah!
Awe. Awe. Awe. Awen. Awen. Awe.
Oo. La. La. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oooooh!
Wow! Oh! Oh! OH! Sooooo goooood.
Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh.
Owe. Owe. Owe. Ouch. Oh, good. Woo it.
Whisper, pop, whoosh, rumble, reverberate.
Swooshing vibrations pulse heartbeats.
Resonates with nebula; feeling Quasar.
Singularity in the Zenith. Corona.
Heliosphere, Magnetar, Nebula, Capsule.
Telescope station, Mars, Saturn so far.
Orbiters above, space stations, oh, ah, oo.
So good to fly in the Saucer. Oo, la, la, oh!
Sailing in Twilight
Rising with Cosmos inside.
Parameters guise.
Lysander sat within the spire, no longer just a man,
But the central trunk and pillar where the neural rivers ran.
The agonizing crucible that made the species scream
Had bent his twisted posture lower in the central beam.
His crooked spine, an iron knot of old subterranean years,
Was heavy with the gravity of a planet's weeping fears.
But as the first fierce torment passed, and silence grew to grace,
A strange, organic alchemy began to alter space.
The malice of Vaeloria was burning out its fuel,
And empathy, though forced at first, became a gentler tool.
Within his blood, the cellular weave began to stretch and bloom,
No longer needing density to fight the bunker’s gloom.
The gravity of hunger eased; the scarcity was dead,
And light became the currency that kept the matrix fed.
He felt his marrow lengthening, a soft, calcific thaw,
That defied the ancient boundaries of old genetic law.
The heavy bone of Sector Three, built thick for digging stone,
Began to thin like hollow reeds the wind had gently blown.
His fingers grew like pale glass rods, his knuckles smoothed away,
As if the heavy clay of old was spun to silver spray.
He did not walk; he leaned into the mosses' golden net,
A creature caught between the things he was and would be yet.