"airlock" poems
What on Earth
took you? Do we dare land?
A lark of descension. An aborted beginning.
Moon trills.
Captain is dead
at the controls.
Mother gives birth in the airlock.
Trouble in the passageways.
A struggle to name it.
A drink before eclipse.
All that's wrong with the world
sounds like harmonium in the (wishing) well.
First flight over Hölderlin's Archipelago,
creating new and stranger versions
in the sandclouds.
So this is
Tharsis Rise?
Life without a trace.
Non-terrestrial Martian field.
Halcyon flowering seas. A rock with no trees,
no urban hopes.
Yet, the whole universe inside
wants to be touched.
I love you in zero gravity,
pushing tender buttons.
*** as solution.
Moon trills.
A kiss of atmosphere.
This alien womb.
Those android embargoes.
Our children are born echoes of astronauts.
Lunar schedules
their first words.
There's a lightspeed sensibility
to this type of marriage and parenting:
no leaving the hub,
no exit procedure.
The Sol they sing
is a harm hymn,
moon trills,
subject to the ladder and the weight of breath
this outside Earth.
But I love you in the veil of a twilight moon.
We're monuments
burned into moments.
Moments without a beyond.
Jul 2, 2022
Jul 2, 2022 at 6:36 PM UTC
Hudson, Hicks, Vasquez,
Android crew on board. Ripley -
Didn't like cornbread.
Last survivor, Newt.
Evacuation cancelled.
You're just a grunt.
'Yeah, Bishop should go'
Sulaco dropship inbound,
Huggers roam freely.
One final rescue,
Push through the ******* airlock.
Escape. Fade to black.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
When I get to Saturn,
Feet as sure as stars,
I’ll cry out in a voice,
Not a blemish or a scar,
“I’ll do it right this time”
No mistakes or misspelt words.
I won’t forget my backpack,
Cut my sandwiches in thirds.
I won't hurt anyone like I did in the last place,
This orbital acquittal for my crime.
I’ll love the right people, in the way they deserve.
And I’ll hold them for the right amount of time.
See, Earth is a write-off for me
I just did it all wrong
I tried until I bled and shook
This desert’s where I belong
I’ll wear this ring like a holy chaplet
My sins ice, dust, and rock
My memories sullied yellow
I leave them past the airlock
My mistakes can't reach to Saturn,
Though their fingers are thick and strong
I can’t break anyone from here,
My arms just aren’t that long.
There are no decisions here to fail,
No stanzas left to rhyme.
Just me and all these moons saying,
“She’ll do it right this time.”
Apr 17, 2024
Apr 17, 2024 at 6:37 AM UTC
The anticipation is heavy within me,
Clouding my every thought
I feel light headed as you
Shut off the flow of life
Around me as nothing else matters,
I can savor the hesitation
Between the airlock
Of our lips,
And then it's a vertical wrestle
Across the floor
Shucking off clothes
And then we stop,
That millimeter
Space between
The contact
Of our bodies,
I can almost feel
Your delicate suggestion
Of hairs rise like static,
Electrifying
The first beads of sweat
As our skins graze
Like the first seconds of an ice cube
When barely you acknowledge its temperature,
The first sip of summer's cool lemonade;
Or is it the very finest of wines,
That's no longer here nor there
As I cling onto your body
Pleasurable friction,
Solid yet malleable
Against the bed trestle
And every other strong surface,
I feel the smoothness of you
Against the rough callousness of my hands,
And I feel I could never let go,
No questions words or thinking,
Just heart, need, and want
And crave, and hunger
Salt lick,
I want to deplete you of air
And replace it all with passion;
Sweet, our bodies shivering
Like crack fiends,
No athlete could keep up
In this heat feel
The slightest caress of a breeze...
APAD13 003 - © okpoet
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
She said to me I tasted like a overripe cherry,
I told her she tasted like dust.
I told her she tasted like a storm, an electrical one,
I told her it wasn't good weather for setting off,
But she still smiled and unfurled a sail.
She told me I didn't listen and I sounded like the ocean,
I told her, her words were like a black hole
And I didn't have an airlock,
I told her she was the tears after a hurricane,
And her words were like dead leaves on the ground,
But still she talked like she was the universe.
She told me I loved like i like always letting go,
I told her I'm not a lifeboat,
I told her I'm an anchor that hasn't be winched up,
And I dragged along the murky bottom of her love,
And I was too strong to keep going,
And still she said she loved me when I'm weak.
She said I ****** like it was going out of style,
I told her that this wasn't the trend,
That I was old-fashioned and sonnets cried in bed,
Are worthless as the air they're written on,
I told her that ******* wasn't the problem,
And still she laid there bare and pen in mouth.
I said I am not a conditional type of person,
And she said I'm not a red pen waiting to mark your wrongs,
She said I wasn't good enough to waste the time on,
Trying to put together in her mind,
Because love should be easy.
So I said no, but it shouldn't be this hard.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
will you stay long enough
to keep me until i can love again?
or will you make me see
that there is no hope for me?
if you will, then be the wind
that goes without a trace,
so i can only smell
what you’ve left,
the scent of your betrayal
for each time you return
to fill me with your essence,
i have no choice,
but to open myself fully to you—
i can’t live like this,
i can’t breathe in what you exhale,
leaving me with nothing, when
you go on to places
like the morning mist,
this isn’t love, this is
all your emotions on airlock
poured out on me,
i can tell you’re running out
so i’m running away.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
I opened the airlock and stared into the blackness of space.
It's cold on my skin as the look of blue and purple creep up my fingertips.
I hold on to the latch and try to maintain my gravity.
All it takes
I breathe in no air.
One Step
I've told myself over and over. If i step out i'm never going back..
But how will i know?
WHEEZE WHEEZE
If i never step out then i'll never know what could've happened.
I take a step-step-step out.
cough
wheeze
cough
I take a step-step-step out.
Starman save me.
wheeze
And crawling on the planets face,
Insects called the human race.
Lost in time.
Lost in space.
And meaning.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC
In medias res:
In between
non-present times
which are unseen.
In consciousness,
the past's dense
the future's vacuous-
intents.
It's matter out the airlock toward
balance moves the clock forward.
Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 2:02 PM UTC
You might/should/would think I'm full throttle
just because I go to dives in my underwear,
reach across the counter and drink right from the bottle.
From time to time
I might talk to myself.
We have some really heated arguments;
I hate that guy. Such a bore.
He'd say, "Don't go and rob that store
At least go around back, use a gun
don't just paint a banana black."
We might be on the no fly list,
just because once I got ******
and ****** out the airlock.
One day I might get my mind right,
kick these habits,
go find out what happened
to my non-existent kid and wife.
Until then
Lucid is a luxury that I intend to disarm
sell to my dealer to get more
sugar for my arm.
Sometimes I just like listening to the voices in my head
and all their whacked out ravings
as I tie myself to the bed.
Crazy people are the ones
who are the same thing everyday.
The same as you, full of pride,
until I had an epiphany
while my brain did the electric slide.
I have the ability to destroy lives
by showing how much of a waste
yours belies.
And if the world thinks I'm touched,
I'll stroke their back
put everyone to sleep,
so I can undo reality.
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
did you watch me tremble in the
airlock?
how i fidgited as the
moth that jumped out_when you touched your damp clothes hanging on the line.
whereas there is no moon
for the clouds that choke us out in this
age of
rats
scurrying about the yard.
i
remember
the way you twisted your lips down to me in the pause before
rain.
you offered it to me.
Oh, how you tasted like fibers.
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
Boil, boil, toil and trouble
Yeast ferment, airlock bubble
Honey sugars turn to wine
A bouquet of flavors that taste divine
The raisins help give the yeast it’s power
While we wait hour by hour
The oldest alcohol known to man
So we drink it while we can
We brew the honey we brew the yeast
The concoction becomes a mighty beast
We brew it slow to make it strong
The process goes on for very long
You can add some fruit to give it flavor
Or some herbs given by the neighbor
Caramelize the honey to make a brochette
That will surely brighten your day
Add more honey to make it more sweet
Or add some tannins and serve with meat
Weather you have it outside or you decide to stay in
Make sure to take your metheglin
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 11:00 AM UTC
I see with my eyes closed
the warmth of your skin
if you just stop punishing
yourself.
And since we’re here,
I press on your shoulders
like boulders sinking and
tearing the earth’s surface once
they reach ocean’s bottom.
Is that why you flinch
at the tap?
Is that why your bruised knuckles
rap over the mantelpiece
and you snap, like a twig
stepped on by a fallen bird
learning the difference
Between fly and drop?
Won’t you let me
close the gap
between used items on your
mantelpiece and
other ones still wrapped?
I don’t do this all the time.
There is no occasion.
But since we’re here,
since we’re in front of
a fireplace, I look for an opening.
Something, a hole,
a soft mushy layer on
your body not a glacier
like everything else.
And I wait for it to melt.
Since we’re here,
maybe it’s time to
trust me.
Remember that?
Saturday.
When we woke up
before the alarm rang.
You told me that
when you were a kid
your cousin said,
“You’re supposed to tear
through the wrapping paper
when you receive a gift because
that builds the surprise.”
I felt some massive force
pull me out of body, an astronaut
****** out of an airlock when you said,
“I’ve never tried that.”
You remember that?
Of course I do.
Why’d you mention that?
I want to.
Since we’re here.
We better.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
Hey Bernardo
climb out the window
let's go out on the razz
I'm sick of being a good chap
we
should go and smoke up
some jazz,
pick up a 'judy'
pretend we're in Speke
let's be two of the sailors
in port
for a week.
I've smashed through the airlock
escaped from the ward
bored through the ceiling
and
woke up feeling *****
Snow White's not impressed
( old jokes are sometimes my best)
but wouldn't it be nice to go
out and get iced
and by that I mean here
to
drown in cold beer
hey Bernardo
are you still awake?
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 1:56 AM UTC
Still feel like I am in lockdown.
I do not mind that.
Covid was like a airlock failure,
Your life and loved ones blown into space.
During covid you closed it shut.
To survive and feel secure.
Your house a spaceship,
Your friends via radio control.
Now they say open it up,
Go back to what you knew.
I now find myself judging
What to let back in.
Dave I cannot let you do that,
But I enjoyed my time alone.
Right I’ll keep the space pod
And fly off into my space.
Jul 10, 2021
Jul 10, 2021 at 8:07 PM UTC