"ufos" poems
i used to check my windows
each night for UFOs,
convinced that aliens were
going to take me away.
i rejoiced for rainy nights,
because i knew that i
would be safe.
in the summer i longed
for the winter months
ahead, knowing snow would
keep them away.
would lie there sweating,
in the hot, humid night air,
my window locked tightly
to keep out the cool,
refreshing air-
and the monsters
i knew were
coming to get me.
i heard my mother's voice
below me,
and cautiously crept
down the staircase,
peeked out silently,
wanting to make sure
it was really her,
there,
not an alien
luring me to
the pits of an
Unidentified
Flying
Object
with her voice.
didn't go
outside alone,
wouldn't step away from
the safety of my home,
all because of a
'UFO sightings' book i read,
(a witness to the things
that fear does to your head).
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
i fantasize about stomping on the gas,
hitting the accelerator
as i approach the on-ramp
for the 408,
launching like a rocketship
headed straight for outer-space.
careen into the concrete
headlong—
scatter my brains
and body-parts across the wall
like a ******* splatter painting.
as lights blur together above me,
my head goes hazy,
dazed in this fugue state,
half-awake and thinking absently
of the city-lights
drifting listlessly overhead
like unidentifiable flying objects,
hovering over this interstate.
i wish they'd beam me up.
kidnapped by aliens,
taken to a galaxy far, far away
so i could forget
the contours of your face.
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 12:51 AM UTC
Eccentric inclination
Chaos, my middle name
Gyrating UFOs
Planted in your brain
In your blood
There’s an end
Start planning your last supper
Remember the good sins
Glitch in the system
Worldlets of curls
Ringlets of worlds
Galactic slingshot
Cluster-fuck of have-nots
Xylophone snow
Planet xoxo
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 8:42 PM UTC
angel's can shout through demons
if they have to
here in the valley of time slips and air borne rock
land of meteor splash and ufos
sprit friends
a fantasy gift you give yourself
but if you see some of them
its the worst day of your life
those streaking trajectories
as straight as a pencil path
sending a migration of aliens
weird ovoid's with ****** binocular vision
like Helix pomatia
****** crawlers
while eight legged locomoting moss piglets
that look like a thousand blinking
one eyed gob worms
hurtle in decent
perhaps landing in the Yucatan
barbarian headed asteroids, critter ridden
mixed of spirits and denizens of deep space
from the parametric edges of Bals
glittering kingdom
shoot suns down from the sky
far flinging those crater bashed demons
into predatory gardens
elixir's of war and death
wave screaming reveries
through red cities
of nightingale floors
nautilus agents plummet
into brawling plots of ash
shattering a million spines
of **** ***** monsters
in a bulls eye break neck rodeo
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
I found you between touches on screens
through swiping on pocket machines
and I met you in the long shadow of sunset
you smoked a cigar and I a cigarette
We put the stars in our eyes
and found ufos and Russian spies
and gave ourselves to the not knowing
but knowing this wanting to keep going
So at one am we kissed at Chevron
with a smirking cashier looking on
and I did so without a second thought
because, honestly, how could I not?
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
My uncle believed in aliens
UFOs n’ all he had boxes upon boxes
of articles in the halls it was the first thing on his mind
and the last thing on his breath and my mother couldn’t stand it
that’s he’d never let it rest he vowed to me he’d find them that he’d
become one of their own and that I shouldn’t doubt him when
he used his serious tone he’s been gone for quiet
some time now he left without saying jack
the
only thing
I wonder is
if he’s ever
coming back
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
*I was a false prophet in an unknown land.
Things used to be better,
With my hand in your hand
I fell asleep on the typewriter and wrote this poem while I dreamed*
Sprites dancing across my eyelids,
We made a game of nervous glances.
Touching fingertips like bits of flint,
We ignited fire in our voice boxes.
Screaming the sonnets of dead poets, we pronounced our love like rotting words.
*Cracked, marble lovers.
Tumbling together
breaking piece by piece
We drank gasoline and swallowed three lit matches
You started a scene when you kissed my dream
With your eyes glowing silver* and your eyelashes curved skyward
you talk of UFOs and astronauts
Complex and ever-changing,
I search your lips every night, looking for a sunset.
You catch stars in the corners of your smile, you are my favorite constellation.
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 3:52 AM UTC
star shine
star shine
high up in the sky
watching the ufos sore by
star shine
star shine
youre become less bright
with every night
star shine
star shine
dont fall down
without a sound
star shine
star shine
youre the only thing that's still bright
at this time of night
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
She draws black wings to her eyes
in a green-wash reflection, light
cascading through the shutters
of the ceiling fan, whilst red lips
rehearse a smile for her lover.
He will hold her like a wallet as
they pay their way through town.
It has been months since she felt
human touch, mammalian warmth,
or whispers exchanged across the pillow.
His eyes are on the screen as she
undresses and then falls beneath
his weight on the mattress. An empty
thud, a hollow sound, as his night is
given purpose, and then falls to sleep again.
She lies awake and wonders where
her night went. There was laughter
across the table, drinks stirred with straws,
and UFOs painting pictures in the sky.
The sea roared in the distance like
a passing train, and so there must be
an escape to a far-off land for her
to start again. Start again beyond
waistlines, over coastlines, and all ties
to employment. To start again
with a half-naked lover, who will
watch as the wind kicks up her hair;
as her skin freckles once more
in the sun.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC
If you heard sounds over Chicago
Would it be UFOs or the blast of guns?
Do they sound like drums hurting everyone
Are they hitting your heart or your conscience?
If you fell over holes on the streets would you get eaten by Alligators
If you see spaceships over Chicago
Would you be alarmed as the snow?
Going down the city and drive you crazy
Is this the end of the world or is that snow?
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
I imagine my death a lot.
I am 28 years old
With two poetry anthologies
And a novel out
Living in New York City with a
Husband who doubles as a musician.
No kids,
Three dogs.
I laugh so hard I combust into nothingness
And my husband writes my memory
Into a song.
I am 19 years old
And looking over the edge of a
Casino building in Atlantic City.
Just last week a man
Flung himself down onto the ghost streets
Because no one told him
There’d be no gun in his game of roulette.
He had to take matters into his own hands.
The rain washed him into the ocean.
I hope it does the same for me.
I am 60 years old
And living in the New Mexico desert
Just outside of Roswell.
I look up at the night sky and
Hunt for UFOs.
I am yelling at the clouds
‘Just take me already!
Take these withered bones,
Take this soft skin!
Find me a new home!
One where I fit in!’
I have a heart attack just as they come to collect me.
I am 18 years old,
A sad girl from New Jersey.
A sad girl who grinds her teeth into stardust,
Who plays with the frayed ends of existence,
Who smiles with fury.
I imagine my death a lot.
But you see,
I’m dying.
I’m dying dying dying dying
And you are too.
There is no need for imagining.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
How something so sacred,
so beautiful,
began in clouds of
shameful, smoking sin-
the smell of charred barbecue-
no one can know.
We'd take turns in dreams,
waking up lonely
as our other selves,
until he found me
like fate was a bowling ball,
striking down my defenses like pins.
In secret we share blood-
vampires with needles-
and later our hearts dance
like the flames in our gaze,
while the Sky clips the wings
of mourning doves,
and sticky blood runs down our throats.
UFOs come with the midnight
and take us, sew us
together.
We're in a bubble,
an island outside time,
crying the same tears
of ecstasy.
Our souls are a cloud
between us and
we ring with crystal clarity,
praying this embrace holds,
despite the weathering of years,
and that sharing the same blood means
our love will remain immortal.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
All around you
Digging outward from having done,
Ghosts and UFOs,
Witches and more
Share their secrets for once,
In a frank and unsettling manner
Weaving a textured foam atop everything
Wherein it could slip through the fans
And a miracle mirror directed the traffic
Formulas back to the state of banality
And ****** rhymes restore the mystery of synchronicity
While urges and desires shape our destinies for a while
An expectation of death blisters our emotional spores
And sensations that take no name become manifest
And the overwhelming desire to become
Is the stemsational masterwork
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 1:25 PM UTC
You called, I answered
You said it's too late, that you're already too far gone and that the doctors have nothing left
Four months tops, five if we're lucky
You started to cry and I could still hear the fire in your voice spark up
You said "the reaper has his grip on me and it seems like he isn't going to let go this time. Please don't forget about me and what you promised me."
I responded with a deep breath and a muffled cry
"I'll never forget. I'll never forget."
Every time I walk by the picture of us on my shelf, I can still feel your fire burn on inside of me
It's been four whole years, and I still haven't broken that promise
I still make your favorite dinner on Tuesday nights
Spaghetti with just a little too much parmesan
You used to say that the noodles looked funny and that they needed to be extra cheesy because I was a noodle and I was always so cheesy to you, I loved that
I still go to your favorite book store on the corner, hoping to find you living on in a book somewhere
You used to love books and it seemed like they loved you just as much
Whenever you were in a bad mood you'd crawl into our bed and get lost in your own little fantasy
You used to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers every Monday afternoon
You said that flowers were beautiful and Monday's weren't, so you were doing us a favor
You used to love watching shows about aliens and UFOs, you always told me that you knew there was life outside of our own, and that they were lucky they weren't living on Earth
"We know hell as if it is our heaven" you told me
Nothing ever stuck out to me like that did
I still remember holding your broken eyes on my shoulders
I remember hearing you scream and cry at me as you clawed at your neck, trying to make me realize that you felt like someone or something was choking you
You used to tell me that they were after you
You used to grow silent and just cry and cry
I remember the night you told me you loved me
You were scared because your life was weighed down by all of your problems and you didn't want me to get discouraged; that your problems were nothing compared to me and that I seemed to be your best medicine
I didn't care
You were beautiful to me and I still loved you in that moment, just as I do right now
I hope wherever you are has spaghetti with parmesan on Tuesday nights
I hope wherever you are has so many books that it would take you the rest of eternity to read them all
I hope wherever you are has flowers on Monday afternoons
I hope wherever you are has aliens, you deserve to be with the ones you seemed to fit in the best with
I hope wherever you are seems like heaven
I hope wherever you are is safe
I hope wherever you are is away from the ones who were after you
I hope wherever you are loves you as much as I do
I hope wherever you are, you're able to look down on me and smile
I hope wherever you are, you're able to see that I still haven't broken that promise
I promised that I wouldn't let the reaper get me, and if I did, I'd fight him off
I lost you to him but he will never get me
I miss you and I can't wait to meet you again
Forever onward,
I love you
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 3:24 AM UTC
They say Invaders
come in UFOS,
and beams of light.
But from what I know of the universe,
they slip into our hearts silently,
breathing descriptions of places our minds have yet to wander,
placing hushed kisses against blushing skin.
Eyes directed towards the stars,
lips numb with words unsaid,
I fell in love with you that night.
Safe below in our understanding of the meant to be's,
and the what ifs,
we managed to escape the invasion.
Hands wrapped tightly together,
clinging to the hope,
that we'll all be saved.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 3:21 AM UTC
Just because there are UFOs,
... a big bang,
... an Einstein,
... evil and death
Despite such questions,
Smart, even brilliant thinkers
Believe, just because...
I'm a free thinker, like they were,
So, I ask,
How many times did Jesus suffer and die
On other worlds to save the Universe?
After all, evil is everywhere,
And so are we, or them.
Oscar Wilde gave up his denial,
As did Wallace Stevens, Darwin and Camus;
And a host of other stars,
Relinquished their lifetimes of distrust
With a breath between the sheets;
With a whisper of repentence
Accepted the alpha and omega
Just because...
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
i spent the back half of freshman year as a ghost, drifting through these halls without ever touching anything, haunting my own bones with nothing more under my skin than an echo, watery lungs and glassy eyes that couldn’t see past my own transparency. floating. i don’t like to talk about it.
i spent the start of sophomore year as a zombie, revived but not quite alive again, less like glass and more like porcelain, trailing my hands along the murals and trying to feel again. i existed, but i was still searching for existence. in january i found pieces of myself in a meteor, and in amethyst geodes and lunar eclipses i found that i was less undead and more E.T.
either way i didn’t feel quite human, like i was off by two shades, so i doodled UFOs into the corners of all my notes and wrote poems about people who smiled like stars in the halls, whose laughs made me feel like i was finally home.
i’ve spent all of junior year driving. nothing feels okay in the same way that leaving does. highways sing lullabyes with road signs, other late-night cruisers sending Morse code messages to the helicopters overhead. i don’t have to think.
i’ve spent all of junior year side-stepping every single pestering question about what i’m doing with the next ten years of my life, signing away my soul to banks for student loans, all for a degree that statistically i won’t even need down the road for anything past sharpening my job resumes, like “hey, look, i’ve got all this debt in the pursuit of a higher education, please hire me.”
i’ve spent my junior year catching up on breathing.
i’ve spent my junior year catching up on sleeping.
i spent the first two years of high school half-dead and fully awake, chugging along like a train destined for nowhere, nothing.
i want to spend my senior year moving.
i want to spend my senior year running.
i want to spend my senior year finding life through expelling the ghosts in my bones and burning the skeletons that always left dust on my conscious whenever i reached past them to get t-shirts out of my closet.
i want to spend my senior year shouting.
i want to spend my senior year knowing that i am already everything i ever will be combined with everything i already was.
i want to spend my senior year forming galaxies with my fingertips.
i want to end my high school career knowing that there is a universe of possibilities inside of me.
i spent freshman year as a ghost, but ghosts are best used as metaphors for memories,
and something i’m best at is forgetting.
there are days where i still feel like a zombie, but who doesn’t feel like that at least every single monday morning?
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
031518
I began to die
As the birds grant melody towards the vast galaxy
I began to learn that things like UFOs aren't real.
I began to die
The clouds shove regrets and stir out their spirit
Upon the loamy creatures called humankind
And the breath was at that degree
That there're no longer voices in their psyche.
I began to die
And chant in my dreams
As if my heart sought for visible schemes --
Those schemes full of hope
That my flesh was no longer in my bones.
I began to die
And shiver in my blanket because of the disgrace
That this muddy-blood human being was an ash in the tray
But I'd rather not to --
That I may not turn joy into chocolates of grief.
I am dying --
I began dying to myself
And day by day, I keep on dying.
It's not simply because I choose to --
But because I'm meant for it.
To die in my own flesh
Regardless of the thousand veils I keep on wearing
Regardless of the fact that I am a human being,
But I'm not only a human being --
I am chosen
And I have a calling
And yes, it does matter.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
If you ask our NewsMax, America One fueled, republican congressmen
who won the last presidential election - they’ll pretend that they don’t know.
But hey, these are the guys, the “honest brokers” we can trust, to figure out UFOs.
These republicans disavow Trump’s clear treason. If they refuse to follow those clues,
like video captured by the guilty themselves - how can their UFO “hearings” fail to amuse?
It’s a shrewd political distraction, a republican red-herring, to put vague “aliens” in the news
just when Trump's lawyers are figuring out which prison facility he should choose.
In this circus of misinformation, we’re offered unproven decades of government collusion,
heck, we even have that RFK.jr nut insisting that the alien saucers are full of jews.
Of course, the aliens must be from distant galaxies - in their new breed of flying saucers -
why else would they be turning down so many lucrative showbiz offers?
Will it turn out that the cute, little, ET-guys are here conducting interstellar analysis?
Stay tuned. Have the aliens come to eat us - should we be frozen in fearful paralysis?
Or will our republican overlords, so busy removing our freedoms, decide it’s time to save us?
There’s no long proven, scientific fact that the newer, dumber, Republicans haven’t disputed,
maybe the UFOs were sent back from the future, their mission: study primitive human stupid.
Jul 31, 2023
Jul 31, 2023 at 11:24 AM UTC
even dark cemeteries and UFOs
flashing lights in the night skies and 'keep out' signs...
even strangers and guns and things that frighten me
if you are heading toward them,
i will follow
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
Abducted Worker
He was riding his moped to the office to work
The alien craft hovered over him and took him
It left his moped by the roadside needing the rider
In a blast of silent light he was plonked down
No longer on his wheels somewhere else entirely
Like the X-Files but real different yet familiar
Like he'd been hear before that was inexplainable
He knew in ways he was home from home
Even if he cried sweated shook wondered what the ****
How can this be happening to me right now?
UFOs don't exist nor do little green men
Or grey ones like these here now
They greeted him he nodded and waved
It was like being back with friends!
Even if three feet tall and grey and ugly
They had a strange yet interesting craft
Bigger inside than out like Dr Who?
His moped was similar for it was a vehicle
Made to go from A to B and do a job
The question was what why where and who?
He didn't know the answers just now
He'd soon find out their aims and wants
Before they let him go again...
0 Comments
Dec 29, 2021
Dec 29, 2021 at 7:31 PM UTC
Twisted-life symphony
It seems so real
Brimstone meet misery
Balancing on oily steel
so glad you're not me
Namaste metal thunder
I have to leave you
vacant online junkies today
with your video eyes
and your mouths gasping
playing your games
Namaste reefer-headed rag dolls
You'll read a couple from Chechov
Admire the lines of Baryshnikov,
oil your friendly little Kalashnikov
under satellites and stations and junk
Namaste deaf, dumb and blind nighttime sky
You wasted your days with excuses
you played on your DSes
til they faded away like UFOs
carrying your doughyness
down, down
Namaste Friday night parking lot hometown
How large is the rock
Stopping my float
My rotten boat's making a
last trip from the dock
Promising ice-cold dark caresses
Namaste cold, crushing depths
How long is the rope
snaps my neck
So much loss of hope
in the blink of an eye
a bloated blue ornament
Namaste choking collar
Plug in now, oh wow!
Gigabytes in nanoseconds
Gigabods in nanomoments
Gigaflights in nanospans
What's a moth's life
Weigh dominion
Namaste my sweeter side
Why don't you join?
Are you scared of freedom?
Just flip this cosmic coin
Just a game, it's just a game
Filled with pain and ecstasy
Namaste en garde, sil vous plait
I think I might just play
lose without trying
play a freewheeling style
Nothing really matters
I'll come back hereafter
Namaste, hasta la vista
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
UFOs and alien dreams
They stood around me as I screamed
They shone a light into my face
And declared ME from outer space
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC