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"earthling" poems
The failed seduction by drunken discussion and skunk fueled consumption, leads to a compunction dysfunction suspended in animation the digital tides of expulsion catapult me into a an eschewing propulsion and the limitations of re-imagination. As far as I was aware I was imprisoned in nothing more than the realms of Skype and FourSquare but for the Feng Shui of trapped energies and google-mapped memories adorning the locations of complacent hallucinations amid the dark fibre communications with a female of Nordic persuasion. The compliments and comments and poems I sent were lost to the myriad of random intent I was attempting to be clever and metaphysical she on the other hand was PHD level and psychoanalytical ergo my metrical composition was utterly lost in a conversation on metaphorical reproduction and the magic and mysteries of osmosis and the application of modification by transduction. The moral of this tale - if indeed there is one - is if you are going to Skype with a mentally superior type do not before hand have a blistering smouldering grass pipe with a flagon of ale lest you be a gibbering earthling destined to fail.
0
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Failed Seduction by Drunken Discussion
After 12 seconds, the clock slaps me " Earthling, what're you doin'?" Me: "Oh, I'm killing you, immortal. And you?" Clock: "Just, revolving 360 degrees since B.C. Now what if, I **** you?" (Took off the battery . . . then saw another clock) You see, nothing stops it. No one. But,
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
Clock-ing
A new babe on the way, Does she arrive today? The stork is on standby, Is she coming down the slide? A star in heaven's berth, Winging her way to Earth, Now an atomic cluster, Has she got a dust buster? Her future unplanned, Soon in Earthling's band, When is she coming down the slide? Right now, the stork is on standby!
0
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 11:14 PM UTC
STORK ON STANDBY (For my expected great-niece.)
11:20pm You kidnapped me and we flew back to your home planet. I was left speechless as this heavenly body took over my soul. He tied a martian string around my heart and promised me to stay. 11:30pm You took me on an adventure across the galaxy that distorted my mind. I let him guide my body into a meadow of star dust, without any fear of hesitation. He tightened the martian string around my heart and promised that I will be his forever. 11:40pm You gently caressed my untamed spirit and helped this earthling experience a new look on life. I only craved for my eccentric martian, so I feared the day I would have to go back to that dreary planet. He glared down into my dark brown eyes and promised that I'll be his officially, to have and to hold. 11:50pm You slowly began to distant yourself from yourself my soul as the days progressed on this martian planet. I noticed that the string we held tightly around our hearts began to steadily loosen as the nights grew colder. He turned his back on the earthling he once loved and promised to let me go so he can travel the stars alone. 12:00am You promise that we would explore the extrasolar worlds together as we floated through the dark abyss. I believed in his promises, hoping the martian string that bounded our hearts together would remain intact. He delivered me back to my humdrum planet while untying the same string that we once held so dear.
0
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 4:22 AM UTC
Countdown.
We live in a world that's so cold Where its more important to savour the flavour Than stop life ending up on a fork and knife. We do good deeds and preach our teachings to the younger future walkers of the earth. We teach them what's right and what's wrong and get them to listen to our favourite song. But life isn't important, no cpr classes in school no teachings of being an ***** donar. We carry on teaching useless, pointless information. We waste time and effort teaching religion when we don't even know who they will grow up to be. We tell children to be nice to animals around the dinner table. Carving up what used to live and love now covered  in Gravy beyond recognition of how it once was part of its own family. Every year our biggest celebration Christmas where we celebrate the birth of jesus or just friendly old santa bringing us gifts. Picking out the biggest turkey to be stuffed glazed and cooked. Poor animal killed to celebrate life or joy. It suck's being on the food chain. You're either above or below an other fellow earthling. Why not break the chain and be you. Not above me, not above a fish that swims faster than you. Not above a lion stronger than you. Not about the farm animals sitting at the bottom waiting to be bled and made into shrink wrapped food. You take the nutrition from the animal that's spent its whole life collecting from plants. Why is the cow the middle man in this earth crime. We have consciousness now we know what's right and wrong so why **** for the thrill of flavor. So sad we don't break this habit and mean it when we say to our children. Don't be mean to animals..
0
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
Don't be mean to animals
We live in a world that's so cold Where its more important to savour the flavour Than stop life ending up on a fork and knife. We do good deeds and preach our teachings to the younger future walkers of the earth. We teach them what's right and what's wrong and get them to listen to our favourite song. But life isn't important, no cpr classes in school no teachings of being an ***** donar. We carry on teaching useless, pointless information. We waste time and effort teaching religion when we don't even know who they will grow up to be. We tell children to be nice to animals around the dinner table. Carving up what used to live and love now covered  in Gravy beyond recognition of how it once was part of its own family. Every year our biggest celebration Christmas where we celebrate the birth of jesus or just friendly old santa bringing us gifts. Picking out the biggest turkey to be stuffed glazed and cooked. Poor animal killed to celebrate life or joy. It suck's being on the food chain. You're either above or below an other fellow earthling. Why not break the chain and be you. Not above me, not above a fish that swims faster than you. Not above a lion stronger than you. Not about the farm animals sitting at the bottom waiting to be bled and made into shrink wrapped food. You take the nutrition from the animal that's spent its whole life collecting from plants. Why is the cow the middle man in this earth crime. We have consciousness now we know what's right and wrong so why **** for the thrill of flavor. So sad we don't break this habit and mean it when we say to our children. Don't be mean to animals..
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13
Motel moons, left of face In room 12, a thing named Grace She's missing ***** & he's missing eggs- Band-Aids on the neck Royal Hawaiian Big Ad's A-Flyin' (Bye!) Cowboys in black dusters And aliens in track suits Drinking coffee with the common man Blue-hooded and faceless, walks by again Third-reel-real headshot, Kept as a souvenir by an FBI actor A man can do a lot with his chin Uncle Sam's tonic & gin Not made to be an Earthling Not fit to be an alien Stars are flickering lights On Big Empty nights Three days in the desert Minus pie sauce in the sky What's in the blue suitcase? Why the blue bowling shoes to get to that place? "Just get on the bus, Gus... ... And get yourself free" Blue-sky clouds on black Whipped cream & jack The United States of Aliens And a Person in a circle
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:19 PM UTC
Ruthie's Umbrella
I'm having a drink this here at Space Bar in Pluto and Martian Pete comes in and sits beside me and we talk, and we drink Full of loyalty and pride, as a human (and patriotism included) I tell the Martian: *"In 1969 We humans put a man on the moon"* "Pish! " says the Martian *"We sent a team to the Sun Earth Year 1959"* "Oh, " I say to the Martian *"The Sun would have burned your team of Martians! "* "Pish! " retorts the Martian *"You stupid Earthlings! We sent them to the Sun at night"*
0
Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC
Earthling and Martian at a Space Bar
Come on, Let's Go To Alphabet City and Lego-Land Where words aren't needed And the pieces don't fit The bitter on your tongue Will soon turn sweet The hustle and bustle Will turn to happy feet Now Reality's Gone Sadness is Illusion Everyone's a friend Everyone's an Earthling Normalcy evades Normalcy is dull Who wants to be normal In a steady-mad world The World is Our Playground No borders, limits, boundaries Everything's in order We're flying on the ground "Just cause you feel it Doesn't mean it's there" This house, these walls Brick, pipe, stone, glass Let's touch what's breathing Contact on Earth We've finally found it We're the aliens Let's bring madness to Parliament Let's bring life to these streets Let's take death from the gutter And make it beautiful *What goes up Must come down But please don't turn these Halos to light-bulbs and ***** floors We can't handle unconsciousness Without sleep Paranoia, Seep in slowly* Please
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 6:39 PM UTC
Ecstasy Honeymoon
I tried to write a poem for the moon. I searched the earth for words worth wooing you. I made some pretty phrases for your face and your phases, and thought I’d said it all. But I’ve said nothing, because Earth words won’t work. I’ve just made a pile of noise from stupid earthling dirt. I sent the pile into space, fueled by foolish grins, and waited (with pride!) for tides to bring you in. My words were just quiet, colored dust against your atmosphere. My grins and smiles can’t carry those dusty piles of Noise into the wind hard or far enough to make you near. So I must DO. To make a journey to the moon, I’ve got to makes some moves instead of barking at your light. I’ll start with exercise, building thighs and biceps to climb the skies between you and I. Keeping shoulders wide so if You light my planet up I’ll keep you up at night. Then I’ll scan by hand your every surface, where rough meets smooth, where your smooth keeps on going, and where your toughs meet your trues. I won’t leave it to my luck to have my love reach the moon. I’ll learn how soft and where to land. I’ll learn how strong you are and when I need to have plan. When to take my helmet off when you need me to be a man. So, as moons do, if you get blue I’ll have found and know and own the fastest way to get myself to you. Next I’ll find out every stone that broke your heart, every rock that smashed your sides (starting with my pride) and make them pay for not watching their orbits. I’ll clear the way and make the oceans do three quarters worth of work. they keep the rhythm while you dance around the Earth. If the sun falls behind your time, I’ll fire that ball of fire, float around and put up flyers, and find another star to make you shine. Now, If I ever prove to be a man who got the moon I’ll still fill my pockets with dusty piles Of favorite words From Earth every time I visit you. And when I know I’m close -it’s when my smile beams in your beams- I’ll ignite those words I’ve gathered and shower you with comets upon comets of compliments. Over time, in walking your valleys, Napping in and mapping your grooves, throwing comets at your craters, and Staring at you Through the roof; One day those marks start shifting into the words I made sure to do. At midnights and sometimes noons They’ll see me from the Earth Sifting out your smile, glowing in your dunes. Written on your face in shiny piles, “This Man Is Over The Moon.”
0
Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 5:46 AM UTC
M is for Woman
I tried to write a poem for the moon. I searched the earth for words worth wooing you. I made some pretty phrases for your face and your phases, and thought I’d said it all. But I’ve said nothing, because Earth words won’t work. I’ve just made a pile of noise from stupid earthling dirt. I sent the pile into space, fueled by foolish grins, and waited (with pride!) for tides to bring you in. My words were just quiet, colored dust against your atmosphere. My grins and smiles can’t carry those dusty piles of Noise into the wind hard or far enough to make you near. So I must DO. To make a journey to the moon, I’ve got to makes some moves instead of barking at your light. I’ll start with exercise, building thighs and biceps to climb the skies between you and I. Keeping shoulders wide so if You light my planet up I’ll keep you up at night. Then I’ll scan by hand your every surface, where rough meets smooth, where your smooth keeps on going, and where your toughs meet your trues. I won’t leave it to my luck to have my love reach the moon. I’ll learn how soft and where to land. I’ll learn how strong you are and when I need to have plan. When to take my helmet off when you need me to be a man. So, as moons do, if you get blue I’ll have found and know and own the fastest way to get myself to you. Next I’ll find out every stone that broke your heart, every rock that smashed your sides (starting with my pride) and make them pay for not watching their orbits. I’ll clear the way and make the oceans do three quarters worth of work. they keep the rhythm while you dance around the Earth. If the sun falls behind your time, I’ll fire that ball of fire, float around and put up flyers, and find another star to make you shine. Now, If I ever prove to be a man who got the moon I’ll still fill my pockets with dusty piles Of favorite words From Earth every time I visit you. And when I know I’m close -it’s when my smile beams in your beams- I’ll ignite those words I’ve gathered and shower you with comets upon comets of compliments. Over time, in walking your valleys, Napping in and mapping your grooves, throwing comets at your craters, and Staring at you Through the roof; One day those marks start shifting into the words I made sure to do. At midnights and sometimes noons They’ll see me from the Earth Sifting out your smile, glowing in your dunes. Written on your face in shiny piles, “This Man Is Over The Moon.”
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71
What is the meaning of Life? Does that not state there is in fact a meaning to our lives? Are we not conceived with a blank slate and let our actions be guided by the environment we have become accustomed to or is there a true predestined meaning to our lives? Is it neither? We are nothing more than what we are and nothing less than what we are not. What is my purpose? Purposelessness. What is God? God is what leads me in the direction that I am heading and keeps me away from where I have not gone. God is not in the endless skies watching my every action. God does not know me. I don’t know God. God is not a being. God is not energy. God is not matter; God is not made of protons, neutrons, electrons or photons. God exists. We made God exist. We also made God disappear. What is reality? The tangible and physical perceptions that we have keep in our memories. As soon as we forget, reality disintegrates. When we remember, reality regenerates. Reality is not constant. Why am I here? Spontaneity How did I get here? I managed to avoid every other place than where I am. If I averted where I am now I would be someplace else. I would be any place else. Am I happy? Yes. Am I upset? Yes. This experience is beautiful yet full of dismay and I experience comfort but sorrow for only being able to experience a small sliver of the universe. But this is my sliver of the universe. I love this sliver of the universe and I would fight to the death to save this tiny space for anybody else to experience existence the way I do. Who and What am I? I am human, **** sapient, **** hominine, hominid, primate, Mammalia, Chordate, and Animal. I am an Earthling from the Milky Way. I am what I am labeled, by others and by myself. I am defined by everything I am not and I change every day. I am not constant. What will happen when I die? Transcendence from existence; Appearance into eternal rest. My body will provide nutrients to the world, my memories will be lost. I will no longer be, except in the minds of those who knew me and in the evidence I leave behind. I’ll be lost forever, the evidence will soon disappear. I will be over, the universe will go on. That’s all I could ever ask for.
0
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 9:40 PM UTC
Questions to Ask Yourself
What is the meaning of Life? Does that not state there is in fact a meaning to our lives? Are we not conceived with a blank slate and let our actions be guided by the environment we have become accustomed to or is there a true predestined meaning to our lives? Is it neither? We are nothing more than what we are and nothing less than what we are not. What is my purpose? Purposelessness. What is God? God is what leads me in the direction that I am heading and keeps me away from where I have not gone. God is not in the endless skies watching my every action. God does not know me. I don’t know God. God is not a being. God is not energy. God is not matter; God is not made of protons, neutrons, electrons or photons. God exists. We made God exist. We also made God disappear. What is reality? The tangible and physical perceptions that we have keep in our memories. As soon as we forget, reality disintegrates. When we remember, reality regenerates. Reality is not constant. Why am I here? Spontaneity How did I get here? I managed to avoid every other place than where I am. If I averted where I am now I would be someplace else. I would be any place else. Am I happy? Yes. Am I upset? Yes. This experience is beautiful yet full of dismay and I experience comfort but sorrow for only being able to experience a small sliver of the universe. But this is my sliver of the universe. I love this sliver of the universe and I would fight to the death to save this tiny space for anybody else to experience existence the way I do. Who and What am I? I am human, **** sapient, **** hominine, hominid, primate, Mammalia, Chordate, and Animal. I am an Earthling from the Milky Way. I am what I am labeled, by others and by myself. I am defined by everything I am not and I change every day. I am not constant. What will happen when I die? Transcendence from existence; Appearance into eternal rest. My body will provide nutrients to the world, my memories will be lost. I will no longer be, except in the minds of those who knew me and in the evidence I leave behind. I’ll be lost forever, the evidence will soon disappear. I will be over, the universe will go on. That’s all I could ever ask for.
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16
I tell her that tomorrow Slides slowly to meet my Familiar night. That the changes are few And subtle. I am OK, I say, Face still cold from last night's Pavement. Truth is I'm terrified. Heartbroken and soaked in Myself, clinging to the past with One hand, fighting its demons With the other. Terrified. Embracing my inner Earthling. Loathing it. Terrified. Loving it. I used to think I was only human. Now I Know.
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
Holy Godlessness (Embracing my inner Earthling)
here's to the glam rock messiah of outsiders and misfits, the androgynous man of the stars with the music. born in brixton, he traveled the universe by spaceships and soundwaves with wild hair and one eye dilated. book-loving and queer, in love with the thought of turning 50. the world had never seen a man living different lives at once, but here the starman came reinventing himself: ziggy stardust, thin white duke, aladdin sane, major tom— all different selves tied together by his heart. he lived his earthly mission, rightfully so that even the gravity of the world could not keep him put. so on and on he strummed his guitar and crawled on stage, in spaceboots and dresses, in porcelain doll makeup, reaching out to all the nobody and somebody people but one day his cosmic vessel was taken down by a secret sickness and halted his mission here on earth, and so the streets and little bars smelling of cigars were flooded by the ones who mourned, who looked up to the stars, wondering where their starman went. the world had never seen such an electric creature, but here the star man came in music and dance, saying it was alright to be weird— to embrace strangeness in a world where every earthling wanted to be the same. and perhaps, he isn't really long gone: his time here may have ended but now he is out there, somewhere, on some distant star, watching over the Earth as he always has.
0
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 11:31 AM UTC
i guess he's out there somewhere
^       ^      ^     ^     ^    ^   ^  ^ ^ ^^^ ^ ^  ^   ^    ^     ^     ^      ^       ^ {[a parachute of words to soften death (the impact governed by an ancient rule)] for falling slower, to allow the gaze to linger on a beingscape of prophets, sages, and of fools, to entertain a fantasy, a whim or a kernal sign of epistemic limn}: \| / feline-dolphin friendliness to bring, to sing of paws and fins, to fashion songs.. cut playful, caring, interspecies lens. sprouting karmic stems at every step with toe-gems on a koan-grounded path on which the memories of art abound-- to measure wrath, to nard with wisdom salves the holon vast of intra-earthling givenness and arm the doom'ed nous with lethe-wards: a Helm of melodies to dim the sound of nether-chords in taunting reaper's lure; pantheonic Plate to temper tangent blows of glowing smoulders, darkest passion throws; Wings of flame in kind caressing pleasure licking high incurvate spinal moan... alone... the tone is sure, for underworldly psalm and biding sweep of time, aeon after aeon, eternal bone on bone, in gales of fated nescience, the moment dawns careening, skirrs my aether-self of lighted purpose drawn, and telic web of wanings on... _
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Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 11:32 PM UTC
a parachute of words to soften death
I built sand castles, hoping to impress a boy who watched the stars as a hobby. I brought him roses, while he was dreaming of other worlds and I held him tight, when his eyes were set on the sky. I was an earthling who tried to love him with my flesh and my bones and my feeble mind, binding him to the ground like roots. But he kept looking up. He wished for a star, he wished for the light that my flawed insides couldn't bring. So I ripped out all his chains. Sometimes, I hear him at night, his whispers echoing into the sky. But my curtains are drawn. I was banished from that kingdom long ago.
0
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
star boy
Do you breath oxygen cry when in pain smile if happy laugh when you hear something funny dance while listening to music alone If so then so do I Do you Dream of better things hope for change fall in to a category If so then so do I Which are you Crazy, weird, normal straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender male, female, other English, Asian, Mexican, Other the only category that counts is that you are an Earthling you were born here might even die here but so was I so will I The things that are important to you are important to me Love, hope, family etc you are an Earthling so am I
0
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Earthling
i would compromise --i compromise. i appear to i mean, with peace-demeanor customized for show paraded there and there, obeisant nonsense in a confidence of meek to render compliments crowding infancies of all for the sake of art i bend my frame about cliche to have a human dragon claim "the real persists unknown" and gather at a sacred dolmen fascinating morals sung beneath the stars and sun-- you said there was a butterfly tasting at my skull, shaking with uncommon music too.. its skinny, immigrant feet abuzz within the world they called a One, wings on pause, my eyebrows in flight. a blanket iris cries warmth in clusters hung ripe, filming over all a native ceremonial, falsepolitik i pluck at them atop a fence obscure for comforts masking truth discarded, found, fashioned into furniture for candled houses built with children's sons where families try to see a clearing in the warping mirrors saddled with a dripping time no illustration comprehends . wooden beams help it rise and dim, the sunny lie, genuinely fake, authentic trick of aeons hidden in the true -- growing young, stemming back to foil brighter undiscoveries for otherwisely patient basements full of heirlooms, sheik dining areas all nodding over cheap wine we still manage to squint up at nothing at in apple layers symbolizing tidy crimes invented ceaselessly, serving existential voids-- grace, fall, stumble catch acquired tones of oak or berry-- other fruits would do, or none, as i still feel praised by your rejections -- when indifference gains a sweetness like a novel vengeance won i am indulging villainy workshopping staling norms, garden dark as cultivated loam. where i am words mooding intellect to torment, faun complexity awry
0
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
a taste of earthling
i would compromise --i compromise. i appear to i mean, with peace-demeanor customized for show paraded there and there, obeisant nonsense in a confidence of meek to render compliments crowding infancies of all for the sake of art i bend my frame about cliche to have a human dragon claim "the real persists unknown" and gather at a sacred dolmen fascinating morals sung beneath the stars and sun-- you said there was a butterfly tasting at my skull, shaking with uncommon music too.. its skinny, immigrant feet abuzz within the world they called a One, wings on pause, my eyebrows in flight. a blanket iris cries warmth in clusters hung ripe, filming over all a native ceremonial, falsepolitik i pluck at them atop a fence obscure for comforts masking truth discarded, found, fashioned into furniture for candled houses built with children's sons where families try to see a clearing in the warping mirrors saddled with a dripping time no illustration comprehends . wooden beams help it rise and dim, the sunny lie, genuinely fake, authentic trick of aeons hidden in the true -- growing young, stemming back to foil brighter undiscoveries for otherwisely patient basements full of heirlooms, sheik dining areas all nodding over cheap wine we still manage to squint up at nothing at in apple layers symbolizing tidy crimes invented ceaselessly, serving existential voids-- grace, fall, stumble catch acquired tones of oak or berry-- other fruits would do, or none, as i still feel praised by your rejections -- when indifference gains a sweetness like a novel vengeance won i am indulging villainy workshopping staling norms, garden dark as cultivated loam. where i am words mooding intellect to torment, faun complexity awry
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51
You: have the wounds everyone wants to kiss and love You: recognize you're only important if you're pretty, dead, and or just so happen to " beautifully "  borderline either at any given time. you :let people satiate their misplaced guilt and empathy. let them coin you a case of charity, a stigmata *********** Is it building or belittling to be someones muse?... If your only inspirational because you're looked upon as broken or used?
0
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
On elimination of erecting earthling's empathetic erotica
Martian Tongue Message: R OLEV BLF! Intelligent Earthling's Reply: I LOVE YOU TOO! Sometimes you just have to get the vibrations correct.
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May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 9:40 AM UTC
Martian Calling Earthling
You, earthling, how can you even begin to attempt to fathom what it means to live, when you don’t bother to attempt to fathom what it means to love? I’ve learned over the eons that it may be air that keeps my lungs full and my body alive, but air doesn’t fill my heart the way love does, and air doesn’t breathe life into my soul, the way loving someone does.
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Earthling
She was the face of the century. We'd all believed the age of heroes was past but she was the real thing - brilliant, brave beyond belief and wise, and the planet - the whole planet - was proud to have her as ambassador. And when the broadcast arrived, proof that we had spanned the solar system and set foot on another planet, every Earthling eye gazed, every ear strained, so as not to miss a word. "..." Martian sky.  Red dust.  Second transmission. "... "I know... "I know you are watching me. "I know that this is the moment, "the moment you have waited for. "Seven months ago I left you.  It's hard "to hold your breath for seven months!" Across the globe, people laughed and gasped. "Seven months." A pause. "Seven months, and enough money "To end poverty "across most of the Earth." Heads were scratched. Where was this going? "Well, everyone, here I am. "I can see you, you know.  A star, "A dot in the black - that's you. "And that dot - "Oh, that precious, beautiful dot!" Eyes moistened.  Friends embraced. "Where every speck of dust is a home "for something. "Where even the forgotten scrapings "Of last week's dinner "plays host to LIFE! "Air to breathe! "Water to drink! "So many, many things to love!" Thirty two seconds of silence. "Why did you send me here?" Fifty three seconds of silence. "This is hell." And with that she placed the camera on a tripod stood before it and removed her helmet. The once fierce eyes quickly bulged and reddened skin puckered and peeled, frost scorched and suffocated lips, best known for forming momentous words turned first blue then purple and blood flowed freely from her nostrils. She slumped, fell, knocked over the camera. End of transmission. The whole broadcast had lasted just seven minutes. She was already dead by the time we heard the first word.
0
Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 2:01 PM UTC
8 Minute Delay
She was the face of the century. We'd all believed the age of heroes was past but she was the real thing - brilliant, brave beyond belief and wise, and the planet - the whole planet - was proud to have her as ambassador. And when the broadcast arrived, proof that we had spanned the solar system and set foot on another planet, every Earthling eye gazed, every ear strained, so as not to miss a word. "..." Martian sky.  Red dust.  Second transmission. "... "I know... "I know you are watching me. "I know that this is the moment, "the moment you have waited for. "Seven months ago I left you.  It's hard "to hold your breath for seven months!" Across the globe, people laughed and gasped. "Seven months." A pause. "Seven months, and enough money "To end poverty "across most of the Earth." Heads were scratched. Where was this going? "Well, everyone, here I am. "I can see you, you know.  A star, "A dot in the black - that's you. "And that dot - "Oh, that precious, beautiful dot!" Eyes moistened.  Friends embraced. "Where every speck of dust is a home "for something. "Where even the forgotten scrapings "Of last week's dinner "plays host to LIFE! "Air to breathe! "Water to drink! "So many, many things to love!" Thirty two seconds of silence. "Why did you send me here?" Fifty three seconds of silence. "This is hell." And with that she placed the camera on a tripod stood before it and removed her helmet. The once fierce eyes quickly bulged and reddened skin puckered and peeled, frost scorched and suffocated lips, best known for forming momentous words turned first blue then purple and blood flowed freely from her nostrils. She slumped, fell, knocked over the camera. End of transmission. The whole broadcast had lasted just seven minutes. She was already dead by the time we heard the first word.
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63
He sits in his rocking chair Moon on his lap He asks his wife for some more ice In his eyeball-glass She looks out the kitchen window Eyes fixed on Antares- The fish hook of the sky Mars’ rival in its palace She wonders why, if hunter’s dead, She still feels strong desire **** yourself before it kills you” Whispers the star of fire The son sits Indian style Upon his race-car bed He prays to Pluto and the sun And ponders in his head, “Am I proud to be an earthling?” “Could my skin transform to fur?” Then he closed his eyes And realized It’s not as they are But as they were
0
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 2:01 PM UTC
Look Back Time
Rain, thumping down, Pressing grey prints, Ocean, tears the sky, Drowning with drinks Of blue eye and salt Taste, rude earthling Song, takes too long. Must I go on walking, In gurgle paths spray, Soaked, silted, ****** Drabs colours running In days raging of rain?
0
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
Downpour
phasical circumlocutions of basic, embodied life.. i am an infant still  i teethe and moan in lonely darknesses solar revolutions          earthling orbits and spheroid whirls                                   an axis of worlds                                   adulterated limbs my adulthood limns an architecture's disconnections        thin, the layers undulate                       of elbow's sway and kneecap right i am an adult still  i teethe and moan alone in darkness, light
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Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
walking, sitting, climbing
i I shalt consecrate one as mine empress As she sitteth high up upon her throne; She shalt be the ruler of mine dominion An abode aloft the Earthling's decor below. ii I shalt put upon her eminence gracefully A castle tiera upon her frowning head; Wherein when one's shalt tryeth to hurt her I'll giveth mine life, to protecteth mine wife's bed. iii And we shalt wander on the streamside Whilst ourn harp-player's strum for us in ourn court; Sipping on wine, of amare divine Ourn spirit's and finger's, locked with none remorse. iv Though tis this is all just an illusion Hoping for one day, mine empress to awaketh from her sleep; Wherein wherever she shalt be, I cant findeth her I thinkest I am dead, Maby asleep? ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
Αυτοκράτειρα του ορυχείου κυριαρχίαm( Empress of mine dominion) greek tongue
The earth beneath my feet Mother nature surrounds me And I.. Am complete.
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Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Earthling