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As soon as you make something seem terrible,
it becomes
slightly terrible.

Someone could be using that very something in a good way,
but as soon as someone comes up with a bad way it could be used,
that thing becomes tainted by thought.

Those people ignore the good in that thing,
and imagine a bad future with it,
creating a taboo that is almost inescapable.

Our thoughts create our future.
Give things a chance.
Think positive.

The future is in our hands.
It is also in the hands of bad people.
We must coexist and cease blame on things.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Before the year ends

there is so much left to

accomplish. Little grains

of salt tossed from shore to shore

Rogue One is my savior

Jin and Cassian are my guides

a bonding brotherhood

a bonding friendship

a budding romance

but ended as the imperial army

blew them to smithereens.

What is to become of the

rebel forces? They end up winning

but it's a long, hard struggle.

The Force is with me.

I am the Force.

I know this now.

All this power like

the Death Star

channeling green toxic energy

destroying all

that is innocent and good.

Before the year ends

there is an opening

not unlike the blue power shields

that the rebels destroyed.

Fear is my shield

but I have the Force within

and all it takes is some hope

that this next coming year

will be a new bright beginning

full of love and caring

bringing peace and relief and satisfaction and release

to my Brain and my Heart.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
there is this pithless entity

circling round my gut

waxing and waning

folding in infinite measures

like stiff cloth finding creases

that fit

and I caress this part

inside which has no fold

or definite pattern

but there is this power

and it increases as the light

of lesser days burn into night

brightly devouring

all lesser fabrications

willing them to speak

in hushed whispers

bathed by blackness

completely surrounded am I

a vagrant soul departed

yearning for this star of gasses

to not combust but

slowly awaken

and you spark that within me

heavy and unaware

a messy cloth of vibrance

washed and wrung and folded gently

with shaking hands and thumping breath

the atmosphere surrounding

all that is real

enveloping my body as it speaks

of glorious wonders

operating deep

within the cosmos

where air is sealed tight

like a vacuum and

I can't help but breathe in

even though

I know

I'll suffocate
Would she make me feel it's ok just being me,
the greatest gift another human can bestow?
How could I ever repay thee?
In spades: I'm gonna havta love ya  till I prove
perfection is a predicate of you to you,
perfect darling Babydoll,
last lady left with a  ladylike soul.
Where are ya?

I have lived a million years,
I have lived 10,000 lives.
Grey eminence to sun kings
and I've been the Prince of Slime (100 times).
I was Duncan Macleod's wingman until he died
- my 1st dates are legion, Space WLTM Time.
Lyrics to 'Sympathy For The Devil'
can't hold a  candle to my travels.
The sherpas of Jupiter
and bedouins of the solar winds
led me where they could  
and then I left them far behind.
When titans sat on my NHS specs,
flew my ship 1000 miles purblind
just to be that starman
who crashlanded on your planet,
my Babydoll to find.  

Bukowski says love's a dog from hell,
Eros as Cerberus.
Yin and Yang need counselling
from J-Dogg and the G-Nius.
Security stands between us
and the Age of Aquarius.
But dontcha know  whole horrorshow lasershow
will after all transpire divine,
once Babydoll's and my lifetimes align.

Jebus pace his cloud, checking his watch night and day.
John Lennon's like a Black 'n' Decker in his grave.
The gyres of samsara creak out screams in vain.
Cherubs in their choppers scour the astral plain.
But bang to crunch the cosmos will be peachy cool,
once Babydoll's and my souls and bodies fuse.

Shedloads of solar systems, can't list 'em,
and I've surfed the centuries
- here my Cinders is, cleaning up catshit!
Babydoll, geddoff your knees!
Dispel dismal dreams of mummy ****
and losing yourself in Marbs;
there's dust on my jacket from battlefields
older than the notion of Love
(what remains of worlds
where the only way was Mars).

Like the Lorax in a hoverchair,
thru the last black hole in despair,
Stephen Hawking typed 'sigh' then the sinking ship
of the Age of Starlight he did quit.
And on the coattails of his chemtrails,
Babydoll and I, off we sail
into the sunset of the event horizon,
catch the Face of God with its flies undone.

Babydoll, it's a mundane Monday,
talc'd bra and gender gap pay.
But on walk to work, silvery alleyway beckons:
a DeLorean from D7.
Spacetime schmutz springing gullwing disperses
- voila! Your Mr.Right out of all the multiverses
steps out to save you from the end of life as you know it
and the continuation of life as you know it.

I have scanned animal, mineral and aerosol,
and when I wish upon a star, it's for Babydoll.
Sisyphean stars like rolling stones snowball
more space. Starcrossed like Romeo and Spidergwen,
engagement ring of unobtainium
will only fit perfect darling Babydoll,
last lady left with a ladylike soul.
Where are ya!
J-Dogg and the G-Nius = (Brit. slang) jocular pseudo-hiphoppy  monikers for the UK talkshow host, Jeremy Kyle, and his head counsellor, Graham 'the Genius' Stanier.
Ron Sparks May 2016
full flower moon
in its halo
a space station
The Full Flower Moon is the full moon seen in the month of May.
Sienna Luna Jan 2016
Going to sleep
is the best thing
a person can do.
After a long day of work
just slip under the covers
clean, wrinkled, soft and daring
the night a comfortable pillow
in which to rest sleepy tired eyes
while finishing a dystopian sci-fi movie
taking place in the desert.
Furiosa takes the night
across her shoulders
black engine grease smeared
across her forehead as Mad Max
rides shotgun
before the heat consumes them.
Enjoying every sand crusted
machine cranked thrusted
water tank bomb shell.
She is the best kind of heroine
taking complete control
of the current situation.
But sometimes there’s a break
when the dusk becomes depth
merging into the white halo of moon
slivered like a cut thumbnail
just hanging there, lifeless.
And this is when
the truth becomes
completely apparent.
Resting one’s body
after a tough week
of physical and emotional sickness
becomes first priority
where relaxation nods its weary head
to slumber under a pile of blankets.
Randy Johnson Nov 2015
We had some visitors that came from outer space.
Those aliens came here to enslave the Human race.
I met the leader and he demanded that I bow down before him.
He said that if I didn't, our galaxy would meet a fate that was grim.
I told that alien **** that I only bow down before the almighty Jehovah.
The alien leader got so mad that he said they would destroy our galaxy by causing a Supernova.
But God wiped out the aliens with bolts of lightning.
Jehovah God was victorious because he is a king.
Jehovah stopped those aliens from causing chaos.
He showed those alien fiends that he is the boss.
This is a fictional poem.
Storm Raven Aug 2015
A hero in a book or movie.
Fighting the evil queen.
Reclaming a homeland-or mountain.
Saving the world with a companion in a blue boxs.
Leading a rebelion.
Beind captain of a ship- Serenity or the USS Enterpise.
Cathing a serial killer.
Or stopping a psychotic well dressed villian.
One man or woman saving the world.
When I was younger I wished I could be like them.
But now I can barely fight the demons in my mind.
Why would I dream of saving the day when I am not sure I want to live another day?
Life is no fairy tail.
This is not Middle-Earth or Narnia.
There are villians and monsters yes but not ones that we can defeat during wizzard chess or with a want or lazer sword.
They are just as real and dangerous.
But the live in our minds.
I tried to run from the watching tv series and movies and reading books.
Dreaming of another life.
But eventualy the demons got closer to chatching up.
And no hero will be able to safe me.
I will have to fight the monsters in my head myself, all on my own.
And I hope that I will be strong and brave enough when that time comes.
Randy Johnson Jun 2015
I'm a Gungan from the planet Naboo and my name is Jar Jar Binks.
Senator Padme put me in charge once even though I don't even have the ability to think.
George Lucas brought me to life with a computer, I'm a product of CGI.
Because many Star Wars fans find me irritating, they want me to die.
Many people hate everything about me, they hate my voice, my six foot tongue and my orange skin.
Now that the prequels are over, those people are thankful that they'll never have to see me again.
This poem is based on the Star Wars Prequels.
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