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i feel like a spaceman
a displaced alien in a wasteland
base plan
looking for a face, trying to trace man

it's not rocket science
with the fights, riots, and sights of violence
i'd give my right eye for some silence
i'm finding this place never quiets
no kindness, or signs of subsidence
relying on small minded diets
no compliance, alliance, or guidance
few ever try to defy the tyrants

i feel like a spaceman
a displaced alien in a wasteland
base plan
looking for a trace, trying to face man
Larry B Oct 2010
While driving down a country road
One dark and lonely night
My engine began to spit and sputter
From a strange and mysterious light

I saw this little green spaceman
With antennas on his head
He was standing beside my window
And this is what he said

"Take me to your leader,
Or we will end your life"
So I did exactly what he said
And I took him to my wife

When I got home my wife was mad
And asked me where I've been
I told her about my crazy night
And about those little green men

She asked if I'd been drinking
And I don't drink a drop
About that time that spaceman yelled,
"Okay now, everybody stop"

Now my wife was really ******
And said, "Who do you think you are?"
She grabbed him by his spaceman ear
And drug him from that car

Now, there she was in curlers
With that spaceman by his ear
I think he might have peed himself
As he stood there in all his fear

Now you may not believe my story
But I've got a souvenir
When they beamed that spaceman back to his ship
My wife held on to his ear

So if you ever see a UFO
Don't scream and run for your life
Just take him to your leader
And by leader I mean, my wife
yanncheee  Apr 2013
yanncheee Apr 2013
I once confessed to my dearest Spaceman, "I'm afraid of being alone."
Because he asked me, why care about what they say? why conform?

Because i'm afraid of being the only one.
Ridiculous, he said.

Oh my dear, beloved Spaceman
The loneliest man in the world
Because you went to space and back again
Because you saw something more
Because no one understands your brilliance

But I am only what I am
and I'm afraid of being the only one
Olivia Kent  Jan 2014
Olivia Kent Jan 2014
I don't speak spaceman she said with a grin.
When into the craft she went.
Was parked on the grass at the rear of her tent.
There met an alien ugly as sin.
Invited her in to join him for gin.
Or maybe a game of rummy.
Neither one could understand.
Non-verbal communication ensued.
They had a hug and laid on the rug.
When sipping their gin.
The two of them,
The alien invader, ugly as sin.
And maiden fair who chucked her hand in.
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Silly head tonight.. A little nonsense!
ollphéist  Jun 2018
ollphéist Jun 2018
In 1961, the first man successfully broke through earth's layers of atmosphere
and made it into the heavens.
He was a Russian cosmonaut,
the first spaceman.
The first to see the sparkling orb of earth.
The first to drift in the vacuum of space.
The first to feel the emptiness.

His craft was very small.
Big enough for his body and some limited movement.
Technology was at it's peak,
however there was no way for him to communicate with earth.
He was alone out there.
Drifting through the cosmos.

and then he heard it.
a few seconds would pass

at first, he thought something was wrong with the control panel of his craft
he put his training to work and used his tools to try to isolate the problem.
He took it apart, and put it back together.

but he still heard it.
a few seconds would pass

he checked the rest of his capsule.
He scoured every inch.

a few seconds would pass

He feared losing his mind.
The tapping consumed him.

The spaceman was alone.

a few seconds would pass

He closed his eyes.
He listened to the sound and wondered if something so simple,
could destroy him so completely.

And then he heard it.
A melody.
The tapping became a symphony.

And even now, there is an ache in me
like a tapping in the dash.

I think of the spaceman,
I take apart my head,
my chest,
my body.

but I still feel it.
I still feel it.

and I can't find the song
that makes any of this beautiful.
michele shulman Apr 2014
Spaceman with galaxies tied to fingertips

Like a puppet you make the universe dance

You are their creator with strings of umbilical cords

Freckles scattered on your nose were the original constellations

Pensive eyes, the first stars and each blink causes galactic explosions

Astronomers were unable to properly trace origins but I did the moment you entered my orbit
draft written on back of coffee shop napkin
Simon Clark  Aug 2012
A Spaceman
Simon Clark Aug 2012
He plays among the stars,
Throwing space dust in my eyes,
******* in orbit,
A spaceman,
My love.
written in 2006
Poetic T  Aug 2014
Poetic T Aug 2014
Spaceman floating high above
Looking at the wonder,
Watching the marbles,
Of the universe glitter
Like baubles shimmering up high.
He is in the heavens weightless
But his heart is heavy,
His love is with his grasp
Unable to touch her face
In space no one can hear
A beat of a heart
Those words said
The universe consumes
They floated in love
Voids in-between
Couldn't keep there feelings
Through he put her gloved hand
Upon his heart,
She removed her helmet,
"He was hesitant"
But they were in love
Space couldn't keep them apart,
They kissed in the
But there connection
Shone bright in the heavens,
I was seen as a new star,
It was illuminating,
That radiated
There feeling upon the earth,
And it shone in to the stars
A love that echoed through out the universe,
For a time the stars seemed brighter touched by *love.
Michael W Noland Feb 2014
I'm a space man
Doing space man ****
I'm a space man
With a space man ship

I'm in a space ship
Doing space ship ****
I'm in a space ship
With a space suit, *****!

I'm a space walkin
Space talkin
Space casin space man, *****!

And I'm just a cadet

A space cadet
With space man jets
Doing space cadet ****

A space racin space man
Doing space man ****

Mother ******
Spaceman, *****

Takin a spaceman ****

Long To Sail Jan 2014
Would you judge me?
Do y'know i wont judge you?
Can I be anything I want to be?
Or are there rules I have to conform to?

Spaceman cowboy hippie gangster stoner rockstar chef painter poet
playwright carpenter inventor scientist mathematician author actor
gardener tailor sailor musician comedian doctor pilot barista volunteer
partyplanner spiritualist director engineer psychologist beautician

Please do forgive me but there's more.
I'm greedy, I know, I want it all.
Immense experiences galore.
Money to me means null.
Hands Jun 2012
I float outside of my body,
a dermal prison dented into the ground,
doomed to never fly and never float
and never travel beyond the sound.
My brain moves faster than a
high speed train,
cars in the fast lane,
the pounding of the rain,
I've gone insane.
It's infuriating
plastic mind,
all disposable and
all utterly insignificant.
I know the fate of history
and the destiny of humanity--
we are temporary,
a dream stuck on a floating grain
in the misty seas of the cosmos,
swirling towards a black death
darker than any night or
any universe could be.
We are a fleeting thought
caught within the arms and tendrils of the galaxy,
draining into an immense
super massive
black hole--
the drain at the bottom.
We are accidents,
sad ones, at that.
The stars formed randomly from
the collisions and crashes of
millions of atoms,
perhaps themselves
the containers of still sadder
and more pathetic universes.
From this early crib
Sol and his brothers drifted throughout the blackness of space,
most dying and
the mediocre remaining.
This is the fate of humans
and indeed all of existence:
that the interesting
the beautiful
the bizarre and
the intense shall all perish
while the average shall
survive, stuck on their tracks
and predetermined paths,
lines laid out by the random assortment
of atoms, of particles
of the refuse of the universe.
We formed from the cosmos' ****;
an explosion erupted from
the backend of existence
and out flowed reds and greens
helium and hydrogen
and burning water.
As the planets formed
from the wake of the exhaust
and the stars migrated to their final resting places,
the elements continued bumping
and colliding and crashing
until green ran the continents of countless and
insignificant planets, residents sticking roots down
and extending towards the mediocre light
of a wholly average Sun.
From this green and blue sea sprang forth
a multitude of parasites,
feeding off the grasses and the ferns,
the flowers and the moss,
warring and ******* and
laying their own universes down out of
their backends.
We are the **** of **** that ***** out **** to
power our **** and allow us to ****
which in turns ***** the ****
to ****.
It's all ****.
Existence is ****.
Existence is ****.
I am a dream in the mind of one
floating off into my dimension,
moving faster than sound,
actions and existence
to cross the cosmic walls and
climb the galactic ivy
to reach out and say,
"I was here. I mattered."
I wish I could comfort them in my arms
to pet them and tell them it's all okay,
that they matter, but I know the fate of history
and the destiny of humanity--
existence is the most interesting thing we can do,
and even that is based on mediocre ****.
SE Nummenpää  May 2010
SE Nummenpää May 2010
His hands were fluttering birds; paper-thin skin stitched together with cerulean veins clung to bones, accentuating the already unnatural length of his fingers.  They hung at his sides, writhing in a nervous agony - sweat glistened on their blushed palms.  Those hands held the moons of Neptune.  "Where are you going?" I asked, a soft echo.  

The young man's head turned and he pulled a sad smile, "Oh, nowhere, really."
(c) SEN 2010

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