Long Starships Poems
Long Starships Poems. Below are the most popular long Starships by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Starships poems by poem length and keyword.
On Christmas eve
high up in the sky
on a secret mission
they do fly
they do come
from that special star
here to earth
the teddy bears
in starships sleek
cloaked from sight
with very high tech
their job they do
they travel so fast
to visit every home
where boys and girls
wait for Christmas time
their agents do live
in every home
see everything
and hear every word
on Christmas Eve
they teleport up
give their report
and get the gifts
then back down they go
into every home
with all the presents
to go under the tree
then back they sneak
to where they stay
to watch us all
till next Christmas time
No matter how far we travel into the universe
No matter how many worlds we conquer
Or marvelous civilizations we encounter
No matter how many creatures we dissect
How far into the past we probe
No matter how many words we write, or read
There is always one step further; one more word to pen
One more iota of information to uncover.
Our storehouses of knowledge
Do not help us survive
Though we hope they will;
For we must believe we will continue.
It all depends upon
One more grain of knowledge
A puzzle with the answer we all desire
Then will we be forever.
Not as a race entire,
Not through works of art
Not from words of wisdom,
Conquest or slaughter,
But the egoistic Self,
The person, the arrogant mind;
What matters if there is or is not a god?
The query is merely: Will I be forever.
That there is life beyond life
Is the dream, the hope,
Of blind misbegotten certainty.
Are we not like a drop of water
That quenched a thirst for knowledge
Then evaporated, but still exists?
Please do not suppose "We are not."
When no more doubt remains
Then shall humanity crumple
And fade from the universe
No longer possessed
Of the undivine quest
No longer needing to persist in this land
When another, we insist, so surely waits.
For now, the starships search outer realms
The pen transcribes the mind
While seldom do we stop to reflect how
If ever the destination is at hand
We will have lost all purpose.
c1973
An earnest poem from my youth, tossed in a file box and stored away lo these many decades.
The eagle landed and proudly placed a feather.
Into the cool, silent lunar sand.
Man hasn't been back in a long time.
It's a difficult and expensive journey.
People become bored with repetition.
Funding dips- starships explode.
Governments get sidetracked by oil and war.
Mars is our new mistress.
An icy redhead, skulls tattooed on her chest.
We want to tempt gravity again.
Plant rows of corn and humanity
Swirl our toes in the cold red sand.
But Mars is nothing but a stepmother.
Uninviting, with a starry cold face.
She'll never provide warmth or much of anything.
But what about Mother Earth?
Our beautiful blue-eyed mother
Garnished with evergreen and water.
Miracles of life around every bend.
Providing everything for her selfish
pigheaded, war children.
Forever the faithful guardian.
What about Mother Earth!
To the people of the earth, we convey this greeting.
We are quite anxious for this long-awaited meeting.
Coming in peace, we are your cousins, as once before.
In a few hours, we’ll be reunited once more.
You will recognize us; our appearance you will know.
We see the sun we once shared ten million years ago.
The planet’s orbit remains between Venus and Mars.
History is forgotten, but we remember ours.
Our first arrival was with the great reptiles roaming.
Something happened, and we could not save them from dying.
Your entire world was completely warm and tropical.
This appeared to be the ideal place for our people.
Our interstellar travel made us masters of space.
However, we knew nothing of climate in this place,
or evolution and genetics within our race.
Your planet is in a section of isolation.
It takes many years to reach your civilization.
Our starships would be bringing news from the galaxy.
They would land three or four times in every century.
Your earth was once a constant tropical paradise.
However, climactic changes covered it with ice.
A strange phenomenon caused some harmless mutations.
Some of us were immune. There were no alterations.
This did not kill, or cause destructive physical harm.
It did start to arouse inevitable alarm.
Two separate groups arose over thousands of years.
Suspicion was perpetuated and caused great fears.
Those who did not leave earth sank into barbarism.
Envy, discord, and conflict were caused by the schism.
We had thought the end came for your civilization.
Your first radio signals gave us indication
that your culture has survived all these millennia.
This discovery has given us euphoria.
We see you have made your long ascent from savagery.
We are here to restore the long-lost fraternity.
We have uncovered much since we abandoned the earth.
Now that you are re-discovered, there will be much mirth.
Perpetual tropical climate, we will restore.
You won’t have to withstand freezing winters anymore.
With genetic mutation, there’s no need to endure.
For your offensive, yet harmless plague, we have a cure.
For what is now wrong, we have the power to make right.
Only let us know how many of you are still white.
Based on the short story "Reunion" by the late Arthur C. Clarke
#13: Close One, & Cigars
To the accords of The Book of Life ... cheers,
loose ends of the created stoic string
crisscross a heedless sea of empty tears.
In the facade of guilt, all seems trifling.
Metallica Horizons all are round,
languages changing from their Mother Tongues,
World Clock, reassemble to Zero down.
New tastes, new sounds ... The Song of Flower Drums
from Southerners, not quite, the cowboy type.
Bowls bleed of beets, ... have fun chow from Macao.
Americans, ... where? ... flagless world, all hype ...
Russians, Chinese, there ... steak, Mindanao.
Ex-lives work as one, building their Starships,
human chain meant Starman ... breathing room trips.
I'm
the
white fog
layered on
gold-jasmine face of
the orange moon, shimmering with
shy starships and laced along hailstones of honesty;
When the sapphires of earth are etched with orchestral milky beams, smeared with ominous balms,
I want you to weave a cherry-crescent with periwinkle dreams and let aqua-pink amulets swing with gossamer threads of lotus-life,
which shall pull my sempiternal heartstrings, as frost of the last snow kisses the lunar orchards, twirling upon maroon ruins of moonwalking memories. I'll forever be that silver haze, lingering in your soul's seascapes.
of an dying autumn day.
The gentle breeze tosses
scarlet leaves before him.
…into the ember fire sky
His thoughts drift,
a familiar voice is heard talking near.
…speaking of wonder and awe.
A fragment of memory…
of kingdoms
of empires far out to sea
and things unseen.
Of fables, mythic legends,
glorious Knights
in silver, sable armor, shivery.
A raspy voice carries
on the chilly evening air
bringing echoes of memory,
a father once standing there.
Who dreamed of these and more…
Watching smoke drift lazy over silhouette rooftops
standing there where he stood yesterday.
Now, a rough hand holds
tinder fingers gently
of a little boy, with eyes full of curiosity.
He looks ups to him, with familiar eyes
with his tossed amber hair.
In the chilly crisp autumn air
hanging on every word
every mystery
every kingdom
& empire far far out to sea!
Eyes reflecting spun fables,
myths of ancient starships,
Forgotten shivery
Eyes bright
Bright blue with wonder, even surprise!
The chill carries his questions innocently
as the ember Fire sky dies
to indigo and aquamarine…
Home is silhouetted
with its chimney smoke drifting lazily
over frosted lands
He turns to go, tomorrow comes
and stories to be told
The scarlet leaves dance
before his lengthening
shadow with his future son in toe.
Star Wars Rebellion:
A galactic game of Risk—
Empire/Alliance.
Alliance Leaders:
Luke Skywalker, Han Solo,
Leia, Mon Mothma.
Young Luke Skywalker
Has to confront Darth Vader,
Becomes Jedi Knight.
Han Solo pilots
The Millenium Falcon
With friend Chewbaca.
Leia Organa:
Very strong diplomat,
Potential Jedi.
President Mothma:
The rebellion’s heart and soul,
Great at recruiting.
Rebel advantage:
They are able to move their
Secret Headquarters.
Imperial Leaders:
The Emperor Palpatine,
Dark Lord Darth Vader.
Evil Palpatine,
A.K.A. Darth Sidius,
Dark Lord of the Sith.
Apprentice Vader
Was Annakin skywalker,
Seduced by dark side.
Control production,
Build mines and refineries,
Fight for resources.
The construction yards
Are used to build everything.
Must be defended!
To create armies,
Need training facilities.
Must be defended!
To build more starships,
Build or capture space stations.
Must be defended!
Special characters:
Assassins, Spies, Commandos,
And Infiltrators.
Planet resources
Gained by colonization,
Diplomacy, conquest.
To gain VICTORY:
Capture/destroy headquarters,
Capture the leaders.
Idealogies?
What’s the real goal of all wars?
Control resources!
No matter how far we travel into the universe
No matter how many worlds we conquer
Or marvelous civilizations we meet
No matter how many strange creatures we study or dissect
No matter how far into the past we probe
No matter how many words we write, or read
There is always one step further; one more word to pen
One more iota of information to uncover.
Our great storehouses of knowledge do not help us survive
Though we hope it will; we must believe we will survive
Upon that one more grain of knowledge we all desire to know
That which is just knowing: will we be forever alive.
Not as a race, not through works of art
Not from words of wisdom
But the egoistic Self, the person, the lonesome mind
What matters if there is or is not a god?
The question is merely: Will I be forever.
That there is life beyond life
Is the dream, the hope, the blind misbegotten certainty
Are we not like a drop of water
That quenched a thirst for knowledge
Then evaporated, but still exists?
When no more doubt remains
Then shall humanity crumple and fade from the universe
No longer possessed
Of divine quest
No longer needing to survive in this land
When another so surely waits.
For now, the starships search the outer realms
The pen transcribes the mind
While seldom do we stop to reflect
That if the destination were ever in hand
We will have lost all purpose.
circa 1973