Adventures through Space or Time

So, either you have gone to the future, and are traveling through space, or you have gone back in time, to any period of your choice.
Write about your time there, make it adventurous, and full of wonder.

Only two rules:
No collaborations
and only two poems per poet


Two weeks, have fun.

Versonnen


(Any questions can be asked in thread, commenting on other's work is encouraged but no random conversations please.)

LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS APPROPRIATE....


THE DIARY OF AN ALIEN WHO VISITED EARTH

I was chosen to be
One of the few to visit
That planet far away
The "blue planet" as they say

For some insane reason
My superiors decided
We would land in Area 51
In the middle of a desert

Well if these were humans
They were nuttier than my superiors
They were taking photos
When they had no idea - if we came in peace

I asked: "Take me to your leader"
They said "DUBYA", and told us how to get there
Well there was so much commotion
When we circled the White House
It was then we knew -
This was the nut house

We had a top secret meeting
With the President and his aides
The President said nothing
The dark beauty did all the speaking

They gave us information
That was totally false
For we had done our research
And this planet was near death
The seas and lakes were dying
The pollution was everywhere
Deadly mutations were arising
The President did not care

So we visited the Russians
We thought they were a clever nation
Met with Vladimir Putin
What a reputation!

Their idea of keeping peace
Was to capture and nullify
All opinions except their own
It did not matter if they were: Communists
White Russians or Closet Capitalists
They just wanted people quiet
To know their place

Finally we went across Africa
Which was a horror story all its own
The rest of the world pretended
That it did not exist
Holocausts flourished - all on their own
Never reported - to the rest of the planet

By this time the crew was sick
From something they contacted
On this dirty planet
We retreated to our spaceship
Where our doctors healed us

We headed home to give our report
Our Supreme Leader asked:
"Is the world worth saving?
If so, we will stop that meteorite,
From blasting it to bits."
The crew looked at each other
Our Superior said: "Alas, we have no good news,
With what we have projected,
People on that planet
May just be better off dead."

ANOTHER SCIENCE FICTION POEM:


WHERE WE ESCAPED TO

When they no longer wanted us on earth

When we had no place to go

We settled on a space colony

Named "The Chosen People"


There we made everything biblically correct

We built our houses in the center

Radiating out from the core

Like spokes in the wheel

Each village with its Temple

Each Temple with its Rabbi


Oh what crops we grew

They were unclassifiable

But with dispensation

We ate them and were healthy


We allowed no-one to be poor

We allowed no-one who did not follow our rules

Heretics were sent back to earth

That is why I was returned


The light is that of Mark Chagall

There is a wedding in the village

For seven days they will celebrate

How far away these people are


When I left in my Amish dress

A virgin and one who could not speak

Any earthly language

I wandered into a people who were kind


Now I wonder what I left behind

A Sabbath kept strictly on the seventh day

No dancing, no fun in any way

All we do all day is pray


The husband who came back with me is my rock

On this planet they have some who are so dark

They look at me and him

His plaited hair and easy smile look like a sin

It is clear I never belonged

But it is time for the special prayers

Which haunt my dream with their exotic chant

I relive my youth, which had no care


In this enclosed space

All was provided for

All was perfect for G*D's grace

There are no worries anymore


The freedom of my life

Is it better than the prison of this paradise

Where you are told what to do

From morning until night


My children with their golden skin

Wide eyed take everything in

Cling to their Daddy, cling to me

Who are these aliens we have come to see


They are dressed in an artificial way

Modesty is the key

My mother is hugging me and her grandchildren

Crying because she knows

When we leave, the door is closed

We cannot live with them

They are grateful for peace at last

Nobody goes to this little planet

Only the chosen, only the persecuted

This is the life they chose

It did not choose me

So I must leave with my family

To fight the good fight

Against racial brutality.

Versonnen

You are good as your word...you went and made a competition.
Thank you so much
Kitty

Your welcome , thank you for being the first to stop by, great poems, love them both. :D

To Greece and Persia

I closed my eyes, so sore, so red, from days long list of works,
once opened now the walls have gone, all corners turned to dirt.
I craved for this, a scene of war, of Greeks and that of Turks,
where blades and spears, meet bones and ribs, leave not a man unhurt.

I laughed and cried, before me died, a Greek so known to time,
a son they say, great Herculae, the lions roar with pride.
Before me lay, a lifeless king, Leonidas at his prime,
these men who lay, beside the bay, all heroes thus I cried.

I've come too late, unto this date, the third day of attack,
where Persians great, humiliate, by warriors brave though few.
I knelt before a king whose breath, a stench of hundred whores,
a sign I may, divert this day, improve I say, avenge brave Greeks anew.

Then Xerxes came, stood right in front, a kneeling man so bare,
he smiled and sighed, asked me then whined, "Who are you savage beast?".
I grabbed a sword, a swing my lord, took Xerxes ear and hair,
he bled and swore, then knelt before, a man as if a priest.

I saw then he, the king whom we, as Greeks all hated great,
commanded not, his armies march, unto me grant his wrath.
He fled, he smiled, and then he tried, to carry all his weight,
then uttered words, I'm sure I heard, "May God forgive thy path".

Then one by one, as Persians gone, I thought of Xerxes words,
then understood, as sun went west, my act God would've stopped.
Step-by-step, by then realized, though evil in our eyes,
a God, a King, this Xerxes thing, a man still who is wise.

Then walked to Greece, a city south, of Corinth, yes I think,
to Sparta went, announced to them, the vict'ry won by death.
Though lost is he, their king poor he, these people seemed not care,
for deep inside, each every soul, a Spartan Warrior breathe.

And so it came, I armed with them, a battle oh so great,
all Greece has come, this land be won, against the Persians they all hate.
When "Charge" was cried, all forces met, the sea ate blood so late,
then hours past, immortals last, these Persians all we ate.

"Victory!", I hear, I see, the enemy undone.
Some smiles maybe, though most will be, these frowns of men who won,
for sons and fathers Hades went, left orphans, widows, cry.
My eyes once shut, now opened wide, to Greece I said goodbye.

The character of Glory in this poem is supposed to be me in a previous incarnation I had.

-] Glory and the Viking Lord [-
“ Ulir ok Víkingr Freyr ”

Part I - Omens From Odin

A Viking lord of fame and repute, did sail the northern seas,
The skull of a dragon was the cup from which his lips drank.
From east to west, his vessel roamed; hard waves did tease!
All the gods of the ocean did him honor, his ship never sank.
In all of the mid-world’s vastness no port of call was a home,
To one whose love was adventure, and ever forth did roam!
Where the moon’s chariot is driven, his eyes have been led…
And where the sun’s light is drawn, his curiosity was oft fed.
Until to the wells beyond maelstroms deep, his course drew,
Nigh unto destruction, when the stormy winds violently blew.
Long he walked in places beyond the ken of moral thought…
Even unto the cold realms where the dead souls are brought,
By those who choose the slain, and render them a final fate!
Ravens twin did he oft spy, fearing it was for him far too late.
No divine shield maiden would take him, lest he fall in battle,
And it was others who, by his red ax, suffered death’s rattle.
Omens from Odin on high, for good or ill no man could say,
Save when the time of destiny, made ready to have its’ way.
But from death was he delivered, and unto a paradise found,
Somewhere west of west: on an island far above the ground.
No vessel of mortal make brought him hither, but so divine…
That the maid who steered it was a being outside of all time!

Part II - The Floating Isle

Trees grew there upon that isle, in a garden tended by giants,
As there the Viking lord walked, seeking only he knew what.
He pondered many a massive stone, in circular monuments…
Hoping they held the key, to the treasure he relentless sought.
The maid whose vessel took him hither, her name was Glory,
Who tired of waiting: for this mortal to read the stones’ story.
So wandering she took him, and they wandered that domain,
The floating isle forbidden: where no treasure, could any gain.
Not any giant would test its’ might against this human guest…
And only knowledge could they offer, for those upon a quest.
The Viking lord, to the seas of the mid-world he did return…
With but a single scroll held fast in a grip that did as iron burn.
No man living knows to where that scroll did take the Viking,
Only that nevermore was he seen, in all the lands of the living!
Save one final time, of which this tale shall tell the full account,
But first we see the maiden plagued by wanderlust and doubt.
And so the maid named Glory becomes she we must sing of,
For her journey was beginning, from the isle in the sky above.
Seeking secret magicks, she found the tall horned-skull door,
Somewhere in deepest Africa, in that ancient city called Kor.
Once they called her goddess there, by vastly older names…
Whilst her loyal high priestess, tended the sacred blue flames!

Part III - Starlight and Glory

Now only the remnants of the golden city, did Glory witness,
Finding no trace of the people who once raised her esteem…
For dusk had come unto Kor in a long-gone hour of distress.
Of the treasures laid at her feet of old, her crown did gleam…
From where it sat upon the broken altars empty of all jewels.
Naught else remained to find, and all who sought were fools!
Crown in hand, the maid left the ruins of her once-great city,
And returned to her island in the sky, and her tower of ivory.
She ruled there alone, whilst the seasons came and vanished,
Until the Viking lord returned from where he was banished…
And the two ascended to the void wherein the stars glimmer.
On a craft of blazing metal shining as silver that will shimmer!
Amidst the starlight, the goddess loved the mortal so intense,
That the man’s flesh could not withstand her naked brilliance.
There, the Viking died in the arms of Glory and was content,
When she steered the vessel into the sun, in a final sentiment.
In such an honored way, did the Viking lord pass to his rest!
Whilst Glory escaped in a smaller craft to her island so blest.
As dawn rose above the flying isle, an ivory tower did shine,
Whilst another mortal made his way: into that domain, divine.
Eternal is her vigil, and many come to her throne, all to seek,
The secrets of the universe: of which, a Viking had one peek.

I awoke on the floor of a tent
on a rug
made from the synthetic skin
of a cybernetic woolly mammoth

The tent was pitched
with megaladon teeth
staking down its silken fibers
and had walls of biomechanical canvas.
It was cloaked by mood engineered camoflauge
that imitated the state of its inhabitant.

Presently, it appeared as an infinite delineation
of greys
that swirled from fractals
to abstract,
yet geometric forms.
The forms resembled the letters
to the language of the lost cult
of The Promiscuous Virgin Goddess.

I had not spoken those sounds
since my initiation into
The Grand Order of the Golden Goof
but could tell by the tattoo
on my left hand that read,
"Time will tell
but
by then, whats it matter?",
that The Supreme Hopscotch Grid
was electrified for a game,
and that the quantum leap of absurdity
that landed me in this tent,
was in fact
my turn.

"Well enough",
I thought to myself
because backing out of the game
is a move in itself
(and a rookie mistake),
"spose, its time to go"

I remembered that my last turn
was to slip the sound of Pi
in between the intoned "U" and "M"
of the universal OM (A-U-M),
and still had many a stuck Goof
circling around the slippery tip
of a true prick
of a sound.

That was well played.

This go
would need to have
longer aims.

After I had cleansed my mind
with the child sacrifice
of ritual masturbation,
I recalled that this land
was the home
of the Simians with funnels for heads.

I figured that if i could cultivate
just the right crop of fecal matter,
and stuff the funnel-gullets full with it,
then the Goof would be abandoned altogether.
And once abandoned,
I could commit the holiest of honest robberies,
the stealing of The Last Laugh.
The closest thing to checkmate
that the game allows.

So with the plans laid out,
It was time to plant the sacred shit seeds
along the pathways of piety
all the way up to
the gateway of guilt.

After 7 months under the sun
of percieved sin,
the crop will be ready to harvest.

In the meantime,
I had to figure a way to hoarde
the shared resources,
and "lend" them back out
at an inflated interest rate.
No better way to speed up the forgetting.

And like a blessing
direct from the gods
of the not so honest robbery,
the fountain of eternal fear
sprung up in the middle of my farm,
and nourished my crop of crap
with politics
and the headless chicken discussion
of gun control.

I threw a rock.
My hop began.






*note, i am sorry that your thread is where this atrocity was left to die*

my laptop keeps double posting

Sitars And Stars  


The Indian Sitar
sounds its sliding neck
the yellow star
burns the viking deck
did I somehow
remember now
that I did know
to forget  .
balancing my mind
a constant rhyme
ageless in time
to mesmorise
closing of the eyes
I visualise
colour cloud sighs
Emerald inset  .


In control
I balanced on a pole
high up from the earth
Violins in a church
waiting for the dearth
life the phoney show
sat upon the perch
if only you could know
more candles glow
for sure .



Sitars like stars
go up and down
musical clouds
buzz around
a cerebal recall
multiple times do fall
all big in space
is small
you dig
you  retrace
your haul
this life is a race
for all
to be etched
on a floating balled
two faced
revolving wall .



 

Thanks for the entries so far! keep 'em coming!

Hell School Graduate

Atop an old brick building, an angel by my side
Looking down on the the landfill heap, known as the
the lower east side.
I'd seen enough and got the point, so off we flew to years before.
I watched a while as families lived, and strived to become more.
Again, the lesson learned, but hope had left my soul-my angel smiled and we traveled again-but this time the earth was below.

The dimensions interwoven, the times just parallel. The daily grind of of the orb called home was a school and not a hell.

Returning from the journey, no words were vocalized.
In telepathic, compassionate waves...
We laughed at all the lies.

    FOREVER AGAIN

The problem with traveling to the past is...
The universe knows you're not supposed
to be there.You feel uneasy the entire
time.Sick even...It is,for sure,worth
it,if I could only save your life.
God won't let me though.He won't
undo what he has done.I'm sure he has
his reasons...And I have my selfish ones.
I'll keep trying.I will spend the rest
of my life returning to the moments
before you took your final breath.
To hold your face to my chest,and
tell you..."I would defy the laws
of time,to feel you in my arms again...

Buildings' designed on an atomic level to withstand a nuclear blast
Interstellar ships that convert into energy to travel light-year's fast,
Spliced seed's planted in square line's that grow into unique fences
Recipes for making homemade fruits that sharpen the body's senses,
Learn history by re-living a random life of those so long gone
Re-live a whole life-time in just one rest from dusk till dawn,
Sickness and disease are just horror stories of long ago
Compared to us, your 'superman' is  frail and slow,
Lives enhanced by living life to the fullest collectively
This is the future to be only if you come right now with me.