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

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

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)

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

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."

insanity, begin;

                      PLAY

foam born (A) of the ocean
the backtrack (B)
            to the origin of human emotion
before hue and saturation
    my life may be black and white
but for the next hour
          -  quite frankly -
I don’t give a ****, because
I am a spaceman looking down on you
            no, literally

I am

[above]

you


the decade of statues into which I was born
begged to be forgotten
             left behind
communication with my own kind
             redundant
       boring
meaningless
humanity, mother earth
            nothing worth living for

no one worth dying for
because of the
informal gluttony
            a sickening acceptance
of the inherent claustrophobia of the human condition

I’m floating
            floating
                        floating
further away from you
from any possible natural surrounding
            or human connection
[claiming to be part of humanity always secretly disgusted me]
everything is beautiful from up high
I am a spaceman, a future butterfly.

wait.

something isn’t right
I’m further away
            more detached
than I intended to be
            further away
the safety of my orbit overlooking you
        deconstructing in front of my own eyes
now floating towards the sun of nothing

perhaps I
miscalculated my own superiority
I am the one floating towards eternity
   after all
to an inescapable fate
while you are back home
            with your (our) own kind
perhaps unhappy
but not alone

I am.

watch me pass by
            one last time
I feel my soul breaking apart
my eyes glaze over and
    sha/t/te/r
atmosphere
            burning
mistaken for a shower of stars
            an acceptable way to leave the third
dimension I suppose
perhaps you will see me as the ants of the sky
scattering
            glowing
                        burning
as I find the sun




hello?






am I still alive?




are you still there?




perhaps all I’ve said
            and lived
was nothing more than a prequel to the sequel
life before death?
    or the other way around?
I am no longer confined by four dimensions
      even time is irrelevant
everything is different
            everything is right
bleeding viridian
    feeling the sensation of nothingness
        seeing the sempiternity of the galaxy
hearing translucent shades of the endless chasm
    that now surrounds me


falling


fallin
         g

falli
        ng

fal
      l
        i
          n
             g

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

into the depths
  until I land upon a new horizon

            I am a spaceman
I am discovering everything

I found death
surrounded by white walls
            the greatest journey
of our [lives?]
happens only six feet down
       surrounded by white walls


    this is what we have when we die.
  this is what is left of us.
white walls.


White Walls.

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,
sane,
sane--
I've gone insane.
It's infuriating
this
plastic mind,
soul,
body,
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,
light,
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 ****.

Nineteen million NASA's price
  To build its crew a safe device
So astronauts could have a place
  To handle *** and ***** waste

  And men of space would have a loo
  To do what other men must do
These millions bucks NASA would pay
  So no spaceman would float away

These men were safe from their own farts
  With leg restraints and other parts
And all was safely put in place
  A porta-***** out in space

But something's wrong I heard today
  An amber rain on its way
No place to hide no place to run
  A loo in space has come undone

From far in space a cry unheard
  A spaceman hit by a flying ****

It's been light years since my heart strings
were touched, gently plucked
in artfully arranged cacophonies of
'I love you' and
'Come closer' and, whispering,
'baby'
sweetly, in his waning symphony.

The fade-out drags at my feet,
while I move through moments now, slowed down,
talking loud,
as though words are my only means to stretch moments out.
These are the 4am secrets I cling to most,
sunlit smokescreen memories of a spaceman still haunting me, you see
no matter how loudly I speak
smaller volumes are still volumes
and his whispers were still words
like 'baby', hurtling through moment after moment
and I wonder why it still hurts.

An asteroid of his voice ricochets through endless stretches of space
and solar flares only spit flashes of his face until even supermassive black holes seem comforting,
perhaps they would transport me to a different dimension of blanket fort dreams
where I am held again, amongst whispers wistfully meant
and this time I don't forget to contain all the stars in my eyes,
cocooned in second chances on Solaris,
the planet where lost loves come to life,
where droves of the lovesick go to die.

I couldn't escape past the moon forever
but ****, I could still crash land whenever
These unearthly dreams created space for me
and in that space, I found my sanctuary
realising that with all the space that I need
the spaceman no longer had a hold on my dreams.

See, love was soaring music, elevation, no metre,
just levitation, almost timeless, but it teetered
on the finish line
to be stopped too soon by a volume dial and a frown,
I bottled up from bottle to cup and kept my voice down
but time has a way of showing you
that shutting people out isn’t profound,
but the absence of sound.

Endings quietened my universe, but
I stopped believing in the relief of silence
and since,
I have become a crushing crescendo,
I think even the cosmos could hear me screaming.
The volume turns up and I burn and I glow
feasting on feelings, wasted on whispers
I'll break waves against wistfulness,
Fling fists against fitfulness,
the spaceman can fight me for all he's worth,
I will not fade out.

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 ****

I'm THE
Mother ******
Spaceman, *****

Takin a spaceman ****

L

O pulchritudinous, for infinite climaxes
For bilious spasms of pigswill
For puce Popacatepetl pedigrees
Above the perverted pampas!
America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee
And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk, from brothel to gay red—light district

O pulchritudinous, for spaceman bottoms
Whose ****, throbbing tapeworm
A toucan crossing for slipperiness spifflicate
Across the intergalactic space!
America! America! Allah enrich thine ev’ry vice
Reinvigorate thy ****** ******* inside monolithic ectoplasm, thy merrymaking inside pyramid!

O pulchritudinous, for freaks got fat
In disentangling feeding frenzy
Who more than ***** their brothel slobbered over
And velvet glove more than backbone!
America! America! May Allah thy blonde exhaust
Till all rave reviews be disreputableness and ev’ry come superhuman

O pulchritudinous, for chauvinist muscleman
That smells wide of the fourth dimension
Thine lathery brothels lick
Polished using giant armadillo excrement!
America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee
And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk from brothel to gay red—light district

I am the space man,
Who jumped from his spaceship,
To give himself some space,
Because he want quite in shape,
To return to an earth,

Who will not remember his name,
For he did nothing new,
No tremendous feats,
He gave only retreats

I’d spent months
working on the vector-calculations,
checking, verifying, rechecking, rechecking, rechecking
in a circular-order, a daily ritual,
infecting my mind with worry.

Such things were important,
so very critical for mission success.
A careless subtraction,
a meaningless missed-detail,
one minor error in the numbers
and my chances went up astronomically.
The chances I would not make it back,
not make it back to see all those nice things
going on down on the surface.

Strange, how your mind can play tricks on you up here,
this lonely place where dreams are made
& lost. I know she’ll be sorry when she finds out
about my mistake, but things
should have been better between us.

Sadly, they weren’t.

the blue marble below him
looks a distant dream

wrapped in silence
frighteningly dark
he drifts away from it.

how he now lusts
for that curvaceous sphere
where he left his human part
to be adrift in the dark matter
rimless endless infinite!

once a patriotic earthman
he now travels a space
without nations borders
sinking into deeper ink of silence...

**he never loved his planet more
than from this distance!

My Sweet Spaceman
where are you now?
Trying to see between
those little glows
that speckle the sky;
similar to those
no longer in your eyes?
I just want to see
the world in which you're lost,
so take me please,
I'll pay the cost;
I'm sure it's less
than the price I pay
for the half-assed smile
you gave today;
I miss you babe,
it's been too long,
so let me save you
from this wrong,
because believe me when I say
I'm alone in this crowded room
while you run around the moon.

*And you said you never wanted to be an astronaut

He was tripping space *****,
whilst receiving some strange alien calls,
up on planet Acidon,

From where he sat he could see Uranus,
he was so out of his mind,
he thought he could fly,
boy was that crazy spaceman high,

The journey took him really far,
way out to a distant star,

His food supplies consisted of turtle soup,
but his bowels couldn't handle it,
so he often pooped,
after consuming turtle soup,

The journey had been long and laborious,
and his co-pilot was a drug dealing walrus,
that could not handle his drink,
it made his eyes go pink,
to the point that he could not blink,

They were so out of their box,
they could no longer think.

By Christos Andreas Kourtis and Larna Kira Kourtis

As I wonder how I can move
Faster then any other animal
Lost inside my mind
The doors just lead to cobwebbed places all the time
Where matter doesn't matter in anyway

When a boy dreams of traveling to space
He thinks of impossibilities
Life left in the past
And nothing but stars for him to grasp

The entire world watches as he flies
Left all of whom he loves behind
This step, this leap
Makes me think of how he’ll be lonely

Just one of the masses,
I stand there, thinking
I hope you reach your destination
As I watch him
Shoot across the sky.

He slept as the waking sun approached
suspended in time and spaceless animation,
a man seeking to traverse the stars,
he died gazing with eyes of fascination

with a cigarette hanging jauntily from his mouth
and arms hastily folded,
surrounded with charred magazines and empty canteens
slumped, his skin heavily blistered and scolded

his last hours were that of beauty
lost in silence and subdued by its respect,
he knew his time was up
but of this journey he'd never forget -

"It's just.. so.. beautiful, how can I not love these stars?!
To my left lies Earth, to my right glows Mars -"

his ship a silver bullet plummeting towards the pulsing sun
the tragedy of his voyage forever embedded into everyone's minds,
a shadow soiling the pride of humanity,
a catastrophe that we simply cannot leave behind

#BOOM#

#CRACK#

#FLASH!#

feeling infallible we found nothing but failure
yet through bitter determination we still try,
preparing for another man to be sent in the Lieutenant's footsteps
knowing indefinitely that he could die

"LIFT OFF IN... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1 -"

pathetic, egotistic
desires churning out ideas ridiculous, caustic

vying to conquer space, the whole Galaxy,
yet again greed and power drives the human soul -

alas, such does a few lives become expendable

when we seek that one perfect goal.

there was a little cat of the furry sort
and he used to dream he was an astronaut
climbing in his rocket heading to the stars
landing down on jupiter then flying on to mars
he could float in space and float around all day
all along the universe  and across the milky way
he had a little suit and and big space hat
he was a proper astronaut a proper spaceman cat
when his dream was over he woke in his bed
the thoughts of being an astronaut still running through his head

When we all die
Each one of us returns to the sky
Another constellation
In the galaxies composition

Floating along the stars
In this creation of ours
A twinkle every night
To help you when your in fright

If your afraid in the dark
Look above for my spark
To let you know I’m there
That I’ll always care

Spaceman floating so alone
Look above to feel your known
Each nova burning for you
No matter what you do

All of my stories have been told
Except for one
In this universe so cold
Look above and I’ll be your sun

the moon stayed inside this morning
she must have been
bringing you home

A patch-work roof burns underneath
the sallow-white chill of a mid-winter moon.
Nearby a lake suffocates in ice;
an astronaut has lost his helmet.
Blood rushes to the eyes and tongue
as a ragged derelict loses his balance.
He topples into a dumpster;
the last pear drifts from the tree.
The firemen are enclosed in smoke.
One froze at the door,
the others melt into the haze;
a hand slips below quicksand.

The moon is doing all it can.
The spaceman is floating away.
The *** is asleep.
The roof is having the time of its life
and the pear grows into another pear-tree.

each second week,
the Minute-hours
of days passing by,
wandering
are y—
do y—
care, there
coordinates kept
secret.

lost
beyond a voice
from the noise
as if meters
define heartstrings —
aimlessly radiating
outside, everywhere
more
seeking a connection —
complexion of e
motion
across the Mercurial plain.

exits
exist, yet
not here,
you there —
[space]
add the t
—time it takes to
feel
between the years
never known —
subtle palpitations
brittle rectifications —
the flux of existentialists;
a Disaster of occasion.
Could this memorial
live?

Spaceman —
a unitary entanglement;
binding theory of
pure dissociative dimension.

Take me to the moon
I want to listen to the silence
And walk where I can’t fall
Build me a rocket
Want to go where life makes sense
No one to talk to, no one to call

Leave a Planet
A hundred billion bodies full
No sign of stopping the grow
It’s not like rabbits
You can’t control with a cull
Humans reap what they sow and sow

Living in a bubble
A thousand years from now
No trees, concrete will rule
Build me a rocket
I am heading into space for my final bow
Yes, you may laugh, may think I’m a fool

But I’m a spaceman
I am going to fly into space
Going to take my chances in the voids
Find the peace
Leave behind this disillusioned human race
Moon, population one, how will that look in the tabloids.