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ah, sunrise ! SF poem

Dream 16 SF poem

fiddle, galaxy, nebulae, piano SF poem

slow solar sail to Jupiter SF poem

just so ya know SF poem


Apollo 11 history poem
]]> Epub http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=158 Fri, 5 Mar 2010 07:13:30 -0600 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=157 a treatise in space, time, music, infinity.

= = = = = = = =

As the spiral galaxy slowly turns,
out there in the Intergalactic Night,
a bass fiddle slowly plays,
one note at a time,
with many spaces in between,
nebulae thick with interstellar,
dust and gas,
form proto-systems,
out there,
in the Galactic Night.

Civilizations rise and flourish,
fall and fail,
across the Island Universe,
many of them call Home.

Comets blazing in the night,
some hitting planets,
some making like glorious sparklers,
in numerous solar nights.

Gas giant planets fuss and fume,
while smaller planets,
Pluto-like in their size,
get renamed and called minor,
while in some solar systems,
such places find their astronomers capable of naming,
all of them,
in their many thousands.

Starships move across the firmament,
slowly they go,
as cosmic speeds are counted,
unless you use the speed,
of one galactic turn,
on its gigantic axis.

Globular clusters,
hover above the Ecliptic,
glowing in the night,
some use as navigation aids,
and others see them as pretty.

A bass fiddle somewhere,
is slowly plucked,
string by string,
the quarks show charm,
both are claimed to be theories,
by some and fact by others.

Hydrogen abounds,
stupidity to,
the galaxy cares not,
as it spins on its axis,
in the Galactic Night,
other galaxies are globular,
some stretched by collisions of gravity,
and others are in some strange form,
varying by which direction they are observed from !
[ Shakyspear aside: all that dust, doncha know ? ]

A piano is slowly played,
note by note,
in some of the empty spaces,
in between bass fiddle notes,
plucked by some gigantic hands.

[ the galaxies abide ]

[ exit ]
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=157 Sun, 16 Aug 2009 09:58:52 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=155 The Doors ]

(Yes, I know they didn't sing those songs. But if they had, this is
the poem I would write.)

[ with a bit of Satchmo playing 'Stardust' here and there ]

[ Copyright by Jim M. Pierce, 2009. All Rights Reserved. ]

Now, it is kinda hard,
going for a moon light drive,
around the moons of Mars.

Not enough of them !

Jupiter's magnetic field can make,
your day feel all like lightning,
in an ouchy kinda way.

So let us head over to Saturn,
for a moon light drive !

A drive past the rings,
a wonderful time,
just floating past the moons,
out Saturn way,
as we glide along,
as Saturn glows in reflected light,
off, above, and below us.

Oh, the galaxies are bright tonight dear !
As we cruise along,
on a lunar drive !

Little bits of rock,
and mighty moons of ice or stone,
glow and gleam,
in the planetary light,
as we sit,
in our two seat roadster,
gliding and looping,
amongst Saturn's moons and rings !

Oh yeah !

[ exit ]]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=155 Sat, 1 Aug 2009 11:35:01 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=154 some is watching videos on Youtube.

Since I think, note that word _think_, any and all conspiracy theories
will be ignored. Many have been debunked as the crap that they are. So
I will not mention them otherwise. Humanity has better things to do
anyway.

Here I go.

[ background music: a piano solo by Larisa, a few seconds from time to
time of a violin solo, and the occasional pedal steel guitar solo.
Well, some giant bronze cymbals to. At the appropriate moments. ]

I remember that day long ago. Humans were going to head for Earth's
Moon. The astronauts had trained hard, some test flights had gone
badly. Apollo 8 had circled the moon. This was to be launch day for
the landing. Three days it would take to get there.

A bright sunny day at Cape Canaveral. A large crowd there. Millions
and millions watching television sets around the world. I was one of
them.

Fuel aboard, clock counting down. The anticipation builds. The
countdown clock goes down to zero.

Liftoff !

I can almost feel the engine roar in my chest and in the air.

The Saturn V/Apollo 11 clears the tower. Roll sequence starts. The
ship and astronauts make their up to Earth orbit, riding on the
shoulders of giants who all made this possible. The ground crews, the
engineers, and all those with imaginations and dreams.

Up in orbit. The LEM (Lunar Excursion Module) and the Command Module
join their tunnels together. They break orbit, firing the engine that
will take them to the Moon.

Three days later they arrive and take up orbit around the Moon.

The LEM separates and heads for the surface of the Moon, the CM stays
in orbit with one person on board.

Boulders are spotted in the landing zone, large ones. Manual control
is taken. They start moving sideways to clear the boulders. Not close
to the surface by much, 60 seconds of fuel left.

They get closer, 30 seconds of fuel left before they have to fire the
ascent engine and return to orbit.

The engine flame starts kicking up dust.

from Houston, "15 seconds !"

"Contact light !"

The engine shuts down.

Then, "Houston, Tranquility Base here ! The Eagle has Landed !"

"We copy you down Eagle, a bunch of guys were turning blue ! We can
breathe again !"

Walter Cronkite becomes speechless as the astronauts walk out onto the
Lunar Surface.

"One giant leap..."

The landing took place on July 20, 1969.

What a wonderful feeling it was. We had made a small journey to
another world. The future waited, Mars and the rest of our Solar
System beckoned.

[ exit ]
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=154 Sat, 18 Jul 2009 10:41:08 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=153 [ Copyright 2007. All Rights Reserved. ]

[ Background music: end theme from the
'Space Cowboy' anime; 'The Real Folk Blues'. ]

the solar concentrators make it hot,
the ground isn't frozen,
have to wear a breather mask,
and the oxygen tank is heavy.

But I'll get the corn and wheat in,
the market to Marsport,
isn't too far away.

I can see the lights,
of the starships taking off,
from the space port,
but I don't have time,
to stand around and look at those wonders,
I have plenty of wonders growing here,
wheat and corn,
in the dust of Mars !

[ exeunt ]
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=153 Fri, 10 Jul 2009 11:09:02 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=152
[ Copyright 2003. All Rights Reserved. ]

[ background music: 'I Drove All Night' by Cyndi Lauper ]

A starship,
moving thru the Deep Dark,
between the arms of a galaxy.

Distant suns and nebulae,
light up distant skies,
'tis faster they say,
to travel between the arms of a galaxy,
saves wear and tear on the ship's hull,
but its lonely.

Days away,
from any help,
of any type,
have to get,
the freight thru.

Driving a ship,
at high speed,
down the spaces and emptiness,
between galactic arms,
is lonely,
in the Deep Dark.

No stars to light my way,
I navigate by beacons and globular clusters.

Such a method,
can be uncertain,
they say.

I get where I'm going,
anyway.

Solar systems,
too distant for my radio to reach,
any time soon,
gleam over there and over there,
above and down below my ship.

But its dark where I am.

Nothing up ahead,
as I follow,
the dark nothingness,
between the arms of the galaxy,
unless of course,
I go off course,
But the freight must get thru.

No frequent stops,
like the luxury liners make,
their fancy fixtures,
gleaming in the light,
from the many Suns,
along their way.

But the freight must get thru.

I'm just a freight driver,
on an old,
junky looking freighter,
moving at high speed,
down the empty spaces,
between the arms of,
a galaxy,
getting food and goods,
to lonely research outposts,
out there,
in the Deep Dark.

I drive,
thru the Night,
making many light years per hour,
between the galactic arms,
the Suns and nebulae,
gleaming off to the sides,
of the Great Rift,
between the arms,
of this galaxy,
I love so much.

Oh, I yearn,
for home.

But the freight must get thru.

They depend on me,
the research stations,
and the outposts,
on the edges of the Great Rift,
I drive thru the Night,
of the Deep Dark.
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=152 Fri, 10 Jul 2009 11:07:35 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=151 [ Copyright 2007. All Rights Reserved. ]

A lone figure sits in a chair made of wicker,
over by the piano,
a piano with some lovely keys on it.

The silhouette shows the figure,
wearing a top hat,
and holding a cane.

Some distant light source,
blue I think it is,
shows some sparkles on the clothes.

The sparkles shine dimly in the reflected light,
a distant, slowly coming closer, song,
starts up,
it has an upbeat tempo,
anyone can dance to it.

Let us begin,
the figure slowly rises,
a smile crosses her face,
tap tap go the tap shoes,
the cane bounces along,
and twirls through the air,
other dancers,
brightly colored clothes they wear,
others seem built of sequins,
along with their sequined clothes,
go prancing and dancing,
Zoom around in circles,
lines and parallelograms,
Leaping up into the third dimension,
or maybe they were some string theories,
clashing and making universes,
strutting across the Stage,
oh, how they dance !

Dancers on the wind,
their wings flow so wonderfully,
others amongst the stars,
for the stage is brightly lit now,
as the dancers pass by from different directions,
sometimes in a group,
or in single file,
dancing across the way,
along a river or lake,
down the street,
across the continents !

They make figures of colors,
as movement brings them all about,
like a ship of many sails,
running before the wind,
as it brings up a cool breezes,
plenty of sunshine accompanies the dance,
with the occasional cloud,
to cool things off.

For this is a dance called Life !
for many centuries it has gone on,
for many centuries it will continue.

[ exit]]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=151 Fri, 10 Jul 2009 11:05:29 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=150 a repost from long ago...

imagination activation: five four three two one

[ Copyright 2002. All Rights Reserved. ]

It was a week or two before Halloween,
and I decided I better go on out,
to the Desert Highway,
it leads to a B-Movie Drive-In Theatre,
out there,
where the stars are bright enough,
you don't need lights,
to find the popcorn machine.

You could read the small print,
on a car title loan...
yeah.

It was that bright.

Now I don't know,
if you've been driving down that highway,
out there in the desert,
and noting something large,
moving along side of your transport,
it coulda been a giant Tarantula,
or it coulda been Them giant ants,
or maybe it was Mothra,
who got sold an out of date,
gas station map to Tokyo,
and Mothra was kinda upset,
having a date with Godzilla,
it was a dinner date,
with Tokyo on the menu !

But it was gonna find that gas station,
out there,
on the Desert Highway first...

I hope the gas station isn't made of wool.

Wooly Mammoths !

Nope, this aint 1 Million B.C. !

Maybe it was them Killer Shrews,
and the Giant Gila Monster,
looking for some teenagers to fricassee.

Was that the haunted House on Haunted Hill,
we just passed by ?

Maybe it was The House of Usher instead,
or maybe it was the Blob eating up a small town !

Now, ya gotta watch out,
for the Wasp Woman,
she has a sting and the way her kids are born,
you just wont believe.

Of course, they could pick on the wrong teenagers,
like the Teenagers from Outer Space.

Or maybe it was Dr. Frankenstein,
taking his new 'kid' out,
for a midnight kite flying contest,
run by the Addams' Family !

I'm not sure.

But it coulda been one of those folks.

Walking along side of my transport,
beside the Desert Highway.

On the way,
to the B-Movie Drive-In Theatre !

I'm sorry,
but ya just gotta keep up,
I know I know,
your car can't keep pace,
with my galfriend,
She is 50 feet tall,
and she is wearing Seven League Boots.

Some guy name of Sinbad gave them to her.

Darling, I know I forgot my wallet,
yet again,
but maybe this theatre has change,
for that navel diamond you wear,
even if it is as big as a Roc's egg...

Look !

I see all of our B-Movie Buddies are there !

The night will lead off with a Popeye cartoon,
and maybe some Betty Bop as well,
then the main creature feature will start,
in the bright moon light,
as we get nearer,
to Halloween Night !

[ boo ! ]
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=150 Fri, 10 Jul 2009 11:02:53 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=149
written for Halloween, 2007.

[ Copyright 2007. All Rights Reserved. ]

Upon a midnight,
I was weary,
tired and sleepy,
yet restless and bored,
need some sleep,
but not wanting to go to bed,
I heard a scratching, rapping at my,
computer room door.

'Tis no one but the dog I said,
rather loudly I presume,
as it set off a neighbor's car alarm,
wings flapped away from my window,
Thats weird I exclaimed !
Setting off two more car alarms.

I feigned sleep,
as the relatives gathered by my computer room door,
'Tis D.J snoring,
nothing more they did explain.

They all departed,
the neighbors' car alarms and the neighbors,
were quiet once more.

The dog is now in the room with me,
snoring peacefully by the computer room door !

Sssshhh. My sisters insisted,
'tis not All Hallows Eve just yet,
Nothing is scratching at your computer room door,
Knoteven a mouse,
you remember knoteven ?
Went off to Chef School, lost its tail to a carving knife.

Lettuce go boldly onward,
tis radish to rabbity jump to conclusions,
there isn't nothing large out of doors,
flapping it humongous wings,
knocking cars about,
Screaming "Where is my porridge !?"
and setting off car alarms galore.

Pussycat ?

Is that you ?

The wings quieted down,
and a deep brazen voice did ask, "Are you food ?"

Neither I nor the dog did speak,
we couldn't hear anything,
not even the Fall Cricket,
that chirps batting averages by the score,
outside my computer room door.

We went slowly to the back of the house,
no stars nor moon did we see,
just the green scales of a dragon,
resting against the house,
I did speak, without a quiver,
having left my bow and arrows,
back at scout camp many a long year ago,
'Tis not Imagination Land here !
You need to head towards the nearest star,
about half way there,
hang a left at Alpha Proxima !

A deep sonorous voice,
presumably from the dragon,
did say, "Thank you !"

And it then spoke as it flew out of sight,
"Sorry about the squashed cars, trees, and houses !
and to all a good night!"

good khi-nigh-get from me to.

[ exit stage fright ]
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=149 Fri, 10 Jul 2009 11:01:10 -0500 http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=148 [ Copyright 2007. All Rights Reserved. ]

It was a fall day,
the sky was gray,
and the leaves were brown.

Winter was coming early,
there was blood on the snow,
it was a battlefield,
long ago,
or just yesterday,
hard to tell,
with all the smoke,
and flame,
creating a man-made fog,
on a fall day.

I hear the sound,
of shell and shot,
screaming through the air,
or it could be a wounded soldier,
just over there !

Aircraft overhead,
I wonder whose it is ?

Maybe those are helicopters I hear,
off in the distance,
Or it could be a biplane,
flying along the front line,
maybe I'm just dreaming,
and that isn't shrapnel,
zooming by over head.

Is that cordite,
or black powder from muskets,
I smell ?

Or is this just a dream,
of combat days gone by ?

Could I be in a hospital ?

I do not know.

The leaves were brown,
and the sky was gray.

on a fall day...

[ exit ]
]]> Poems http://poetry.drivein-jim.net/index.php?itemid=148 Fri, 10 Jul 2009 10:57:54 -0500