"extraterrestrial" poems
A curious extra terrestrial
watched human ********** perplexed;
seemed more of an internecine combat,
not the **cerebral *********** he knows.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
Ruler of water
Walking on air
Antisocial Alien
She'll tell you to grow a pair
Not of this planet
She's ready to leave
Bored with human nature
Atmosphere hard to breath
Extraterrestrial
Don't touch her, she's cold
Unresponsive emotions
Can't fit in your mould
Ruler of water
Floating on air
Riddled with anxiety
Life just isn't fair
A Queen, individual
Heart racing, can't breathe
She knows what she can be
She just wants to leave
Anxious Aquarius
Lady of air
Can't breath your atmosphere
And you can't reach her
Hemosphere
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 7:28 AM UTC
By the 1960s, a disillusionment with Nationalism and war was permeating within the public consciousness.
Man: jazz. Jazz! Everything sounds like jazz when you lend your hears an oscilloscope. You know what j-a-z-z sounds like? Well, it’s sweet, serendipitous or nonsensical, nihilistic. Modern in stainless steel or anachronistic in brass. Jazz! So what? Jazz sounds like anything that’s everything and vice versa. It’s a limb of that omniscient looker up and over: the tune itself. Oh, the tune? It’s what lies between your fingers when you’re writing, forging, loving, giving, perishing. You strut with the frequency of a conduit, but an unaware one at that. A change is gonna come in mere years, I know that much. Everyone will be deloused in the pain of the world; Mother Sympathy for all, even the charlatans who hide behind their crimson fur! All I’m saying is, whoever brings it ought to be from this place. I can’t fathom a recalcitrant extraterrestrial handling our own business at the expense of their planet’s water supply. I’m excited for whatever comes, believe me. So long as it ends me and with me.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
my mind is blank.
void,
like space?
but space has stars..
or galaxies,
or planetary systems,
or planets,
or earth-like environments,
or people living
on these earth-like environments,
or extraterrestrial intelligent beings,
or intelligent minds or perspicacious thoughts
on how things narrow down to a single idea..
that everything is void
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
*The fire within you
The purest form of what love means to me
Together balancing on this razor thing line
Like it was meant to be
It fuels the heart to know that you are mine
You tainted my purest desire
Corrupting every part of my soul
It’s supernatural
Like a ray of light shining bright
You are something else, extraterrestrial
This love can only last a lifetime
Facing these fearful odds
I lost my chance to make you mine
Tears of regret fall upon your grave
The inevitable space between us
Crying on the kitchen floor
Don’t go away don’t go away
Give me the strength to move on
But deep inside of me the fire stays
Telling me that my heart must go on
Like ashes to the wind
I know somewhere deep in the universe
You will be watching over me
In the end we are all stardust of time
We are all extraterrestrial
The fire within me was lit by you
Every night in my dreams
Far across and far away
You will come and show me how to keep this fire on
I wake up crying begging you to stay
I don’t want to be alone
I wish you would be here
The fire almost goes out
It’s the emptiness which I fear
But you will be there inside my heart
Wherever you are, near or far
The fire will always be in my heart
When I grow up old and all alone
The fire you showed me
Is enough for me to face the world head on*
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
*If only and only nature had cared enough not to place us worlds apart
Without big beautiful blue Oceans lying proudly betwixt
So that each and everyday I had you tight in my embrace as you are in my heart
My thoughts would not wonder and my emotions mixed
If there was no single mile separating two great souls
Would not be contemplating the much to enable us journey that far
If only we could find a way to break all these walls
Or if I was extraterrestrial to rocket to you like a shooting star
Every night to steal your fear and leave you courage
To stitch your wounds and heal even the scars of fate
If only you weren't so near yet so far like a mirage
Then we'd only have the length of eternity to contemplate
If only I was close enough say right across the road
The burden of living would be lighter for we'd share the load*
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
There’s a lot to be said for this place.
A near-perfect pitch for diversity,
Diversity: a neurolinguistic term;
A quaint way to say: miscegenation.
No, just kidding; I meant the melting ***
A fine blend of Anglo, Hispanic & Indian blood—
That’s Pueblo & Plains Indian blood--
Not that **** masala, chapati & dal Indian blood.
My apologies to "Who's the White Guy?" Bobby Jindal.
New Mexico: “The Land of Enchantment.”
Where 310 sunny days per annum,
Are like money in the bank, earning
Double-plus compound interest for those
Suffering with seasonal affective disorders.
A land of sunshine without the orange juice,
But substitute chili, red or green?
An equitable offset to be sure.
310 days of sunshine:
Even the white people are brown here.
Which does a lot for my self-esteem.
Back east—New York, Chicago & Philadelphia e.g.—
People that look like me, i.e.,
People with dark brown hair, eyes and skin,
Get stopped/ass-cheek spread/& frisked, routinely.
Stop & Frisk: NYPD’s spectator sport for decades.
Stop & Frisk: Mayor Bloomberg-defended
Crime-stopping Godsend,
Getting guns off the streets.
Getting homicides down.
Everything’s cool until some slick race baiter,
Starts yelling: RACIAL PROFILING.
Forget for a moment that people that look like me,
People like me with dark hair, eyes & skin,
Commit 78% of the crime in most cities.
“It’s not racially driven profiling,”
Said Newark’s police director recently
Referring to stops carried out by his officers.
“IT’S CRIME-DRIVEN PROFILING!”
But, again, political-correctness trumps common sense:
August 2013: Judge Rules NYPD
Stop-and-Frisk Unconstitutional.
Well I’ll be a monkey’s *** ******
I moved to New Mexico to blend in.
My complexion a shoe-in for
The Witness Protection Program or
Any other public or private,
Domestic or international rendition site.
But I digress.
New Mexico: no passport necessary, Babaloo!
New Mexico: be you white or black, Hispanic or Indian,
Or even Roswell extraterrestrial,
The cops here will beat the **** out of you.
Or shoot you dead, Kemosabe.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 1:44 PM UTC
your eyes are
more potent
than any pill
i could swallow.
not of this earth
extraterrestrial
the nearest i can reach
to the image of god:
a deep muddy earth
familiar
uncontrolled
i think they're sweet
like chocolate
but they punish me
without thought,
peeling off
each layer of
my endurance until
there won't be
anyone left:
nothing left of
who i was
so here we are
i remain latched
to the thought of you.
and you
you're as blind as ever.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 2:30 AM UTC
I can feel your heart ache under your soft, warm skin as I glide my fingers along your gold-mended pottery fractures. Skating on the glaze you've let me peer beneath to reveal your raw materials. We used to use air and clay and water to speak, now we communicate in a wordless language, born of naked otherworldly splendor. — and that planet, your body, I long to explore.
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Sloane swallows.
***** is ****
I execrate extraterrestrial.
We are all kaput to conk out.
Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky.
Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty.
I verily don’t grease a *****
Oojakapivvycum.
If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of
Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism.
The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff
It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing **********
I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies.
I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert
That penetrate ***** creature.
I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it.
It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing.
We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium.
I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux ****
But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android ***
Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself.
I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail.
I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types.
I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs,
Ad hominen id. Ex post facto,
I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself.
I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ******
Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème.
Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
Nine wheel karma controller
Compact sleeveless button case
Oil deltoid combo
Metal magnet scrunchie spray
Bootleg leaf fret
Wick hunger limit
Tedious lantern bucket
Psychokinetic apple bubble
Intergalactic time space fraction
Anything immortal lost
Sleepless anxious toss
Divine magic water bodies
Healing wild birds
Extraterrestrial swimming fish
Fleeting nighttime children
Delightful new age beauty
Deep elemental menstrual cycles
Strong sight protection
Given soul story lessons
Clear Global God
Request practiced peace
Garden random physical reason
Humorous overwhelmed solution
Earth discovered on turtle
Used miraculous fact
Command locked paradise
Key kept love thirsty
Closely counsel deceased Master
Reaching for things not seen
Endless chaotic writing paper
Creating cool frog bog
Washed pilot sitting clean
Reaching things unseen
Wonder what all this means
Reaching unseen things
Feeling presence of other beings
Reaching for things unseen
Sleep walking in a dream
Reaching things unseen
Piecing together chaotic strings
Reaching unseen things
Hearing angels sing
While reaching for things not seen.
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 11:22 AM UTC
I trod on earth that sparkled
I waltzed beside the moon
Dancing in the universe
To a planetary tune
The comets sang a medley
A spatial serenade
All the heavens hummed the chorus
Thus a harmony was made
The sun joined in in baritone
A rich voice filled with light
The planets played a polka
As we danced into the night
Music swelled around us
In an orbital orchestra
A constellation conga line
The last thing that I saw
I woke from my deep slumber
As I slept beneath that sky
The starlit party glistened
A twinkling tango before my eyes
I woke from my deep slumber
As I slept beneath that sky
The starlit party glistened
A twinkling tango before my eyes
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
A subtle carol echoes of the evening
Upon bended knee I am arrested
Betwixt strange refrains
Shaking the floorboards of Teicu
The evocative moans amplify
The foolish peacemaker of astrologists
The English dream of poetry
Those I coaxed by death
Were the witnesses of the tragedy
And were familiar with its ballad
Crafted the design ‘tis conceptual ***********
Eradicated their honor for vanilla threads
As they shimmy and shimmy
They defile elongated hankering
And retreated in the greenhouse of Woodstock
Its language made iconic by efficacious character
Having often been labeled an experiment
Broadening its brilliance along death’s boulevard
‘tis she who was the stunning one
Her language made sacred by her iconic fame
A long time controversial reference
An automaton, an origin of extraterrestrial etiology
The evocative moans ensnares the tourist
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
Mine lily of the valley, mine lotus of the unrestrained.
Mine Senna alata, mine allay of human angst;
Mine Kalinaw in mine Stygian juncture's,
Mine Kaulayaw aloft the extraterrestrial
Structures. Mine Paraluman that giveth me these word's to writeth, the one that bringeth me excite;
In mine core thou art invited.
Mine Kundiman by which I replay in this skull,
Mine hand of time, mine angelic mind-
That I do learn from.
Mine Makisig precious stone, undug from the clay,
Mine, all mine, I canst sayest it all day.
Mine past, present, future; woman of now, forever's our's
Mine Jane. O' how Dalisay, O' how Dalisay, doth ourn water run sparkling; Only because mine love, we sip it as queen and king. One time soon, to shareth wedded ring's, wherein the pain's of the now; art gone and unforseen.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry'
©Earl jane sardua Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedicated
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC
Stuck in another distant dimension detached from everyone else
Linger in the void of empty streets at night an empty hollowness of space
The piercing cold air gnawing at my bones
Even Pluto has never felt this alone
The faint flicker of diamonds in the sky calling me home
I yearn for my home in this hazy glimmer of intergalactic boundaries
I wish that they would swoop down and carry me home
I wish that I could embark on a voyage of interstellar travel aboard an extraterrestrial air craft once more
If only for once more. My cravings would be cured
I am a shimmering ghost shielded by perpetual darkness
Calling out to unresponsive entities blind to my isolation
My only companion a silent night sky taunting me so
I wander this path aimlessly in search of home
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
It's alienation across the nation.
End of the break
the whistle's blowing
The sailors going only a short way
to heavens
Subterranean souls, yet
extraterrestrial minds
(I want to have a magnificent, celestial time)
Someone is dead
True, someone might be
curled in dread, somewhere
But the staff chooses not to
voice these concerns
to their guests
They-are-all
transported
to a place where their veins
don't show up blue
under that black light, yellow
dans-le-ciel
It's a dalliance for souls
(They are all lost.)
A denouement for souls
(How much does it cost?)
Better question,
who sends them here
(Every zephyr is cold)
who sends them here
to die and behold?
If I had a friend
they would ask,
"Why so alone?"
Because I move with the
Tintinnabulation across the nation.
People saying the most
cringe-worthy---
Like the nation
I fear I have become
an imbrication
repeating myself in every
application
Working on that steamboat
the-band-wagon
isn't as good as it gets
Saccharine, summery lake
Do we, perhaps, need to escape?
And, perhaps, we can.
Dominated as we are
by Society, who is crying in need
Believes we must be a
panoply!
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
hedonic adaptation
living, breathing an
idealized state
transparent powers
an aesthete with an
affinity for anarchy
shamelessly insinuating
fatal errors in identification
extraterrestrial ***********
at the core of our unity
probing at a molecular level
damning the will to connect
a creative protest against
the artificial
daydreams bleach
inferiority complexes
and insight breaks through
dark and damaging
sacrificial secrets
thrusting toward the deep end
forgoing progress through
flawed perception
the bright light shining through
your self inflicted wounds
cannot be ignored
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
She blinks.
And such an ordinary unnoticeable movement
Creates movements in places he never intended to landslide.
She's a super natural rip tide
She's an extraterrestrial tour guide
To the universe
Of his dreams.
The
Space
Of her smile
Sends his pupils rocketing space-bound.
The black holes of her throat are cautiously slippery,
She wants him to drown.
She's ******* him down
Down
She's gathering him up
And escorting him around
Like shooting stars in a moonlit sky
His pupils search for the skies in her eyes
And she blinks.
She etches the disguise of his demise in her memory,
And she tattoos her name in his heart with permanent ink.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 7:57 AM UTC
Dinosaurs were in existence for 160 million years.
**** Sapiens have been in existence merely 200,000 years.
Will humans remain the dominant species on Earth... or are we simply a phase of life that will eventually be replaced? ...and if so, how so? Will mankind extinguish itself? Or is mankind -is the aspect of life itself- some type of chess game played by the Gods of the universe? By Gods of the universe... do I literally mean spiritual Gods and anointed souls... or do I mean the physical and chemical forces that construct and compose the world beyond the world that we live in.
What about dimensions?
Are the crossable?
Should I mention; they say that human beings are the most intelligent creatures alive. We exist and thrive off energies and vibes yet how many of us utilize the potentials possessed within us? Does that make us less intelligent than they say?
But who is 'they'?
Who believes in the extraterrestrial?
Who believes in Magic?
Are dreams a portal to things unforeseen?
Is there a higher power, or are all things reasonable and explainable through the documentations of science?
Have you ever pondered the wonders of Faith?
Does everything happen for a reason, or are all things coincidental?
Knowledge is Power and Evolution is Revolution.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
i.
Let the quartz
yellow citrine floodgate's flappeth open;
Their connected to the hip's, up to mine sweet Jane's lip's
Leading to heaven, thither the celestial, she's an extraterrestrial.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
******* at tickling the ivories,
at inducing the jet buttons
to chortle, say, in a concerto ;
but I do strum and flirt
with those amazing royal,
88 unrepentant loyal
keys for Jupiter and Saturn,
for Mars and Neptune,
making a blank bland tune
for extraterrestrial beings for fun.
On the cosmic moors
the moon's whirling feet
cease for my discordance.
What a slurred entrance
by F in D major!
Only a novice--an amateur.
I'm no magnificent pianist,
O majestic Mercury.
Summon the stars the search
to lead for a supreme virtuoso,
one of no incongruent ingenuity
like this dilettante--a pseudo
music polymath, counsels Thebe.
A Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach?
Any of the greats scored above, as well
as geniuses like David and Handel.
Impressario fly! Flee thou away
and go get a classic maven.
Otherwise sleep there forever at Erebus,
never dream of waking up in Eden.
Circuitous world stops: strings break off
at the Earth's axis--
the Sun's panels pause
and darkness' movement begins
its own obscure notes to improvise:
apace demented melody
is released,-- bathos of symphony:
tinny wine of concord
settles on the lees of discord.
Asteroids hooting some ***** calls
when into the grand chrysolite chamber--
in her tailor-made blistering gown--
strolls in the coruscating Venus
in the sturdy arm of jaundiced Uranus,
garbed in his glistening stomacher.
Like a ball, all eyes are bouncing
hither and thither, up and down,
googling and ogling,
once more at them leering,
gaping at the irreplaceable paintings of
da Vinci, Picasso, and Van Gogh
cavorting upon the weightless walls
to the romantic performance of Strauss
in the palace orchestral of Bacchus.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
High rises burst from soft Earth’s flesh
Was it even ready for us?
From an extraterrestrial’s perspective we’re a disease upon this gentle cerulean Elysium
I’m living in the mouth of duality
I hear it speak as I leave my block and give a peace sign to the abandoned residences in progress
On the block I currently live, the sidewalk is cracked into drunken mazes and yet
Directly across, the neighbors stand upon freshly minted asphalt and into a metropolitan construct made for the modern brain: built in amenities, contemporary textiles and garage parking
Are we next?
To be bought and sold, if so, can we at least have a plan for the residents?
Will tenants be invited to the newborn paradise? We have the budget to feed cement trucks faster than hungry mouths. It’s become a bad habit
yet I sit by the man-made imperfections
hoping someone cares enough to drip their Eden into the palms of my neighbors
If time will tell I’ve been getting quite the silent treatment
Travel a little deeper and….
Cosmopolitan crossroads coexist with beggars and lost folk….
Since when was the speech divided between affluent and broke?
"IDK?" The duality replies
I thought you’d say that.
Aug 4, 2021
Aug 4, 2021 at 6:14 PM UTC
To the planet called Earth
And its so called overseers:
We are your distant neighbor
From a far-flung star
A thousand times greater than yours.
We don't come in peace.
Certainly, you may think
That your intergalactic
Space bound expeditions
Got us all figured out.
Your futile exploits
Gave you but an idea
That might turn out to be
A million light years away
From such a prized truth.
But we know everything
About your infant planet.
Your warm-blooded race
The silly thing you call Science
And your many weakness.
We have been here all along
Since the ancient times.
Your ancestors offered megaliths
And long tried to build relations.
But we were never pleased.
Your intelligence, though much inferior
Made us believe you are prepared enough
To decode encrypted messages on crop circles.
But even so with your best technology
You have failed us once again.
Humans! Take heed to the signs
And the warnings of our coming.
We have waited long enough
And gave you time to hone your potential
Only to find you stuck in your own maze.
You call us aliens, those big headed monsters
That you amuse yourself in your movies.
But you are the strangest kind of life
That our probes have ever studied.
Your saga shall be recorded well.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC
I'd liken you to an alien
Pulling out a new skin suit from the closet each day,
But that would mean you're extraterrestrial
And you are nothing but ordinary.
Tell me you and him are “just friends”
And we are “close friends”
As you sharpen the fangs you’ll leech me with,
Plastic over your teeth.
It’s not winning if you don’t become someone else.
I’d call you chameleon, but
I have too much respect for them
And your colors just aren’t that bright.
Your slithering tongue won’t be remembered in a year.
Your name gone the next.
Take solace in knowing that what you tried to break
Will forever be etched into his skin
Like the tattoo in mine;
Memorable, but not you.
You stood in my shadow
And tried to call it yours.
Blame the sun for spilling your secrets.
And blame me when you burn.
I warned you,
Sweetheart,
That I crawled up from hell.
You just crawled out of a casket.
I have flames; you have your fears,
And you cannot bury me with them.
You tried to warm your rotting soul
And take the flames as your own.
Smother your ugly in ice
And ask me why I was so cold.
Whirling wardrobe,
Break free.
Mystic?
***** please.
A sunflower doesn’t succumb to weeds.
You’re just fertilizer for me.
This is my summer part three.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 3:55 PM UTC
I always saw a fascination in the stars, the far away galaxies
Your eyes, the creases in your hands
The way these all formed together in a constellation
Exploding with stellar being
Everything about you was celestial.
Hours studying Zodiac signs left me empty
I needed to find myself in your solar system
Forcing life onto other planets
Deserted meteors I saw in your mind
I wanted to restore you.
As I looked to you I felt ablation
My mind melting away the ideas of horoscopes
Making room for you and your astro being
Never once wanting any sort of apastron
I awaited the chaos.
You are an evolved star
Burning out slowly, ever so
Sinking to be extragalactic
A place I never imagined
I was far from extraterrestrial.
But orbiting around you I felt the brightness of our galactic halo
Pushing deeper to reach your nucleus, I became your gravity
As one, our luminosity pressed tightly on all sides
Forcing darkness to disband, a large nova exploding from us
And now we are an elliptical galaxy.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC