Dazzling, synthetic lights emanate from polished silver,
Penetrating my deep, chemically induced sleep.
Blinking sensitive eyes, I raise my swirling head.
I sit up and walk into a corridor of glass display cases.
Rustic farm tools, mannequins wearing clothing from the past and present fashions, pottery from long ago…
A collection of some kind, featuring timeless treasures and ordinary items of little to no monetary value.
A discombobulated hoard of flea market finds?
I came to another display difficult to make sense of…another display of mannequins except these wore no clothing and floated in some viscous liquid.
A chill went up my spine and I knew not why until…one opened their eyes and looked at me!
I awaken. Bright sunlight streams into my bedroom windows. I recall everything in a moment of time.
Sitting up, pain and horror, a poisonous flower blossom opening red petals in my mind…
A nightmare or mad illusion? I see nothing but my room, and hear nothing now but…
… silence.
Before I'm another day older,
I'm gonna get shot in the shoulder.
In movies and shows,
the protagonist knows,
it's how to get Hilda and hold her.
From Gene Autry to Scully and Mulder,
the good guys aren't turned on by gold, or
political power:
come the end of the hour,
they want to get shot in the shoulder.
In Buffalo, Boise or Boulder,
each player, or stacker or folder
will promise you flat
if you wear a white hat,
you're gonna get shot in the shoulder.
The girl may be Gertrude or Golda:
you're ready to melt her and mold her?
The best thing to do
when the baddies ride through,
is get yourself shot in the shoulder.
There's no formula stricter or colder:
the eye of the movie beholder
requires of the star,
when he enters that bar,
that he has to get shot in the shoulder.
When I met Grace Kelly, I told her
(or let's say I gently cajoled her):
"if you're leaving at noon,
then I don't need a wound!"
But I bled. That's right, lead. In the shoulder!
I watched it 20 years ago
But much to my surprise,
“The X-Files” has returned and my
Affection still applies.
It seems a bit old-fashioned
(Their computers and their phones!)
Yet the stories still seem possible,
With aliens and clones.
The attraction of the show, though,
Both today and way back when,
Is the Scully-Mulder chemistry,
A treat to see again.
For when actors play a perfect pair,
That partnership is gold
And no matter how much time goes by,
Their magic won’t grow old.
Fact or fiction Mulder Insists look at the evidence aliens exist
Out of the window a shining light when he turns sister out of sight
Xfiles open this is where it starts examining every file looking at every chart
Mulder is united with Dana of course her first assignment to dig up a corpse
Undeterred she follows his lead trying hard not to believe
Looking in the mirror dana gets a fright Mulder reassures her just mosquito bites
Dana’s not sure the science is not there Mulder grunt with a look of despair
Extra-terrestrial one day he will find until then always on his mind
Remembering Samantha, he returns to basement the truth is out there why can’t you face it
Written by m.burton
When you look up in the sky and you see those floating lights going side to side and up
and down and not in a straight line…it’s cuz them UFO people are drinking my profits. And you and yours are arresting me for just makin’ a little shine but not goin’ after those
extra-tarrestrials for flying drunk is crazy.
You need to get them people from Area 51 and Roswell to investigate cuz you’re killing my way of life.
I’ve written to the NSA about this, and they haven’t said a thing…and just between you
and me, I knows they spying on everyone’s phone so when people send them nudie
pictures of themselves to each other and stuff and those sext messages I’d like to know
whose lookin’ at those cuz I’d like to too.
But anyways, its E.T. and his *****friends drinkin’ my profits and flyin’ around without turn signals or nuthin causin people to hurt themselves cuz their lookin up at ‘em flying drunk and the only reason they haven’t hit anyone is cuz we ain’t grown wings yet. So please get Mulder and Scully, and that one-arm man on the case and let me go home. Cuz I ain’t done nothin’ wrong our founding fathers wouldn’t have done.
When you look up in the sky
5/1/'14
"A David for David"
investigated strange events from week to week
paranormal phenomena brought great fear
science fiction challenges while theories peak
as Fox Mulder, The X-Files lept into high gear.
a graduate of Yale, David Duchovny
received doctorate for his poetry.
"Magic and Tech in Poetry and Prose"
acting was his second love; to fame he rose.
his writing skills published as Master of Art
a native New Yorker, he earned top awards
given high praise from his peers, played his part
he inspires poets using words as chords.
to touch to share emotions as our dear friend
David Williams, who encourages to lend.
a smile, a tear, to all who read his vast views
enjoying every verse to chase away blues.
*For Cyndi's Davids for David Contest.
inevitably, one night a few of the forced occupants decided that they had had enough &
took it upon themselves to try & leave the church camp---
they made their way out of their dorms & down the dirt road,
only to remember then
(as even they whose minds were the least warped by this whole exercise in futility,
had forgotten exactly where it was that they’d been taken)
that the road to the church camp led to a major highway
of which not even a cricket did frequent &
the though of hitchhiking or
just strolling on home
was ludicrous at best.
frustrated, they made their way back to the camp &
when they got onto the grounds,
floodlights illuminated their path
as if coming from some ship seeking Mulder on the X-Files,
zooming down to intimidate &
in the morning,
when they were all sitting at the cafeteria tables,
a minister sitting at the head of the table of which the few failed escapists sat,
turned their head casually & said
“we know you tried to leave last night…don’t do it again.”
August fools
gust for a lust
a thirst of just
what truth is first
“Mulder” is spooky
but a pretty smart cookie
“she called him Fox”
but he didn’t lookie…
greys the matter
she types in batter
and the fish
he chipped
is.way. ;)x
”...are you still laughing…?”
Knight the Butler said the Chef
A civilized relation of One do exist.
This is the Time and it’s the Measure
Means of One to Many a Treasure.
Bird songs of the same feather
weather storms of fright to light
the heather and again, come the
day we remember. Who we are.
I got your number.Gentleman. ;) WO!
you talkin’ to MOi?
et.hmm…
Was a Sumer of sixty eight and
Mother said wait. So I did.
Earthly measure stares around
MY feet are a card in sound
”... the beat…”
a gui.duck you ask?
”...2036 was the year in question…”
and seconds later,
I had the impression
they mighta been speakin’ to me.
The night jitterbug’s its way into morn.
The car seat’s awash in burger rappers, torn.
A lipstick stained paper coffee cup sits
precariously on the dash, backlit.
The windshield takes a direct hit
from a large storm-tossed stick.
Dana Scully, beautiful Irish lass
of copper hair and blue eyes looks good
even in the green light of the car’s dash.
A dog howls. Dana glancing in the rearview mirror
she sees Zombies rising the sound track reeks terror.
“Mulder…Mulder,” she whispers into the cell phone!
“They’re here….” She upholsters her gun, as she hears his tone.
Laying the gun on the seat best her,
she backs the car over the nearest ghoul.
From behind a crypt another comes
with a mouth full of cat and fur.
A car speeds to a screeching halt beside her door.
Mulder arrives, a bit late, but what are friends for?
Dana, heroine extraordinaire leaps from the car,
she covers her partner. He doesn’t have to come far.
Without a hair out of place or a wrinkle in her shirt
she saves Fox’s bacon and leaves Zombies in the dirt!
*For Matt's How to Build a Spaceship Contest
How do we create an airship that soars?
The answer was Roswell’s, but it could be yours
Make the long trek to Area 51
To find secrets that lie beyond our sun
Use a metal that is lighter than tin foil
Load the fuel tank with something cheaper than oil
Beam us up, Scotty, to the Enterprise
And view technology through a Vulcan’s eyes
Defrost Walt Disney’s cryogenic brain
To help us design the computer’s mainframe
Call Mulder and Scully out of retirement
Their UFO knowledge is alien-sent
Be sure to use tiles that don’t overheat
Like those that cast Challenger down to defeat
Let’s add Stephen King to the construction crew
If “Christine” could talk, our spaceship should too
Then let’s send the tab for NASA to pay
What happened to our space program bucks anyway?
Now we can blast Congress into outer space
For the lot in D.C., there’s no better place