maneuvering over the vast expanse
might take eons
starships leaving the speed of light
in their rear-view mirrors
crews of AI along for the ride
in case G-d might decide
to breach the great divide
This crystal sky’s non polluted,
I can glimpse into a lush world.
Hidden starships hang in the air,
when will they become visible?
Doubters called it convoluted
as distant galaxies still swirled.
All that I manage is to stare,
awed by what shines invisible.
Bottled starlight tousles my hair,
celestial grips me with sly skill.
#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.
Children are riches
books are treasures
Read them to sleep
aboard starships of pleasure
Tuck them in tightly
'neath soft blankets of down
Peaceful dreams' smile
the jewel in their crown
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
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!
on the verge of becoming
becoming undone
not here
every where
and London
said I
to the stars
forget you Mars
I’ll stay on this planet
for all my days
longing for starships
and pirate's ways
Whilst watching Star Trek with Captain Picard
They were fighting cyborgs in their universe marred
The Borg fly their cube spaceships and look to destroy
Federation Starships that against them deploy
One thing that puzzles me with the Borg
Do they have toilets especially designed for cyborgs?
© Paul Warren Poetry
The Inner Workings of a Clock
My Catholic schoolgirl
Denies my shadowy persona.
Costumed in
A navy blue uniform
A snow-white blouse,
A chest pocket embroidered
By Saint John Fisher,
Her youthful bearing ticks
Smoothly, quietly, piously.
My Catholic schoolgirl leads
The May Day procession
She crosses herself and genuflects.
Wrapped in rosary beads,
She pushes my golden orb,
Tilted and warped as it is,
Into its preordained trajectory
Toward saintliness.
Starships of jealousy and greed
Some dressed as childish lies
Others as adult deceptions
Pitch me into a blackness
Unnoticed by my angelic clock.
Hands circulate 360 degrees.
Springs unwind.
Inner pendulums
Swing madly.
Simultaneously, I am
Remorseful and gleeful.
Twelve o’clock is
My imagined sanctity of
Honeyed knowledge.
Six o’clock is
My known blasphemy.
I wear my hair shirt with pride.
Tortoiselike, I see only
Darkness or light.
My Catholic
Schoolgirl’s soul
Refuses to apologize
For my humanity
Nor does she brag.
I am God’s creation,
A jigsaw of sharp-edged pieces.
Damn mites
Not laser power or starships
Insects a few millimetres wide
We can't survive them
They sit out there in the skies
Watching us slowly dying
They won't even come down and fight
We face this doom of complete starvation
Insects, trillions and trillions came one night
Now no food can be eaten
No water is left that we can use to survive
Our lives are now forsaken
Damn alien mites
Humanity has been sacrificed
Iron skies wait to take their prize
Damn alien mites.
This luetinnant commander , of the data kind , seeks girl with Beverley crusher
Like boddy & Deanna Troy like mind ! Plus leeta Alexander like hair and
Patty yasutake like eyes and big barda like armor & Julie newmare like thize !
In a year , win thairs an orbital eluhvaytor that we can tayk up 2 the
Space stations , & then shuttle 2 luner coloney b-yond all nayshuns !
Maybe we can have brunch at the sea of trankwilitty ,
In a domed city , using no super aybilitty !
Wair we can watch starships cumming out of the faktorry !
Wile we are eating a 10 sandwich meal , called the sandwich snack-torrey !...
It was just a drop of morning light
that fell upon a surface of my room--
I won't remember it tomorrow, though
I found its shape a bit unusual
and while seated, leaned to the side
to take a second look. Curious it is
that just the combination of the sun
and shadow from my window was enough
to filter through my mind and out to you.
Yet there is more. How is it that
a tiny fraction of my day takes on
significance enough to be profound--
how dare might just a little thing,
barely noticed, join old Socrates
to beat upon the doorway of the mind?
I think I know.
A momentary glint upon my chair arm
casts from it all the same,
beginning, identity, ending, contrast
and the power, though without guile,
to induce thought and even smiles...
to make me wonder just a while
about the universality of everything
confronting us, there perhaps
to rouse us from our mire
of lassitude and apathy forever.
Is not that notable exception
of the quiet here beside us, we
may build upon when we are just
past focusing upon the roar of
comets, starships, missiles
and our worldwide mutual
obliteration from the earth?
~
Arcturus Hub
Arcturus by the milky way,
5th dimension players Grey,
central hub of our galaxy
most advanced of all our neighbours sit,
multi light years, just a bit,
from which their Starships flit,
too advanced, to coin a phrase.
Don
SHINE WITH YOUR NAANI
Fast the travel, long the joyous trip
fine is the progress,
the greatest race,
set at spirit's own sweet pace
Life sends us on a mystery
starships speed far away
truth sets the pace,
destination reigns each day
Robert J. Lindley, 06-20-2014
Sponsor, nette onclaud
Contest Name--------- SHINE WITH YOUR NAANI !
Contest Description
here’s to another new form!...a Naani poem by Telugu poet, Dr. N. Gopi,
has 4 lines… the total number of syllables in the poem are between
20 to 25…the Naani has no set rhyme scheme, and no set syllable count
per line… for this challenge, i would like us to:
*write a NEW poem including your name, contest title , and date of
poem
*create ONLY 2-3 stanzas with a total of exactly 25 syllables per
stanza
*post it under verse category
THE THEME IS: STAR/S…
Sub Categories
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