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Men in SpaceThe first man in space went up with a terrified determination. He couldn't know if he would come back, or even if he would leave the atmosphere, or even if he would leave the launch pad. There were tests and animals and a lot of sacrifices, but there was never a certainty that men were supposed to venture into space and come back alive. He was ordered to be a hero and pressured to be brave, and so he put up a face for the world to see on large propaganda posters. No one knows what went on inside his head, maybe not even he himself.
When he went up there, to the great last frontier, he was at once the loneliest and the most famous man alive and what he saw was beyond description. He could not contain the raw emotion he felt at seeing the earth. It was light and darkness, cold and heat, a space without end. He screamed into the microphone of his large helmet and described the surface of his planet, overjoyed and crazed and barely able to address the people on the other side as his superi
The six billionth manHis hobby was to make up names of jazz songs and his best ideas came at night. Sometimes he would write them down on square paper cards and pretend they are albums. The one I wish were real had six songs with names like Spanish Interlude or Second Moon of October. He didn't know anything about music, only that it is good, and he always wondered how an instrumental piece gets a specific name. He had two favorite names and he tried to get the great musicians to play them. They were When a Cobra Falls in Love and Then She Recited Baudelaire in French.
He could never finish what he started. He tried to write and he always came up with the last sentence first, building the story around this conclusion. Often he would stop writing a story because a new sentence caught his attention and he needed to write a new story for it. This way he had many great ideas that never came to fruition and with every new story he became more depressed because he knew he would never
Space EscapeI'm traveling to space
And I don't know if I'll come back to this place
Don't know if I'll return back home to you
Because I'm traveling to space
Far away from your pretty face
New GuitarI bought a new guitar today
It cost a lot but I don't care
Now my girl can watch me play
And nod her head of golden hair
I close my eyes and hit the strings
Electric sound flies through the air
My girl Charlene joins in and sings
Together we're a perfect pair
Don Lope - El DoradoDon Lope (El Dorado)
Mountains hidden in the mist
A dusty path scares the slopes
An army marches down this trail
And God turn his back on them
They came to take this sacred land
A leader losing his own battle
A mind that seeks the El Dorado
In search of gold they all went mad
River water splits the rocks
They build rafts to move on south
To the golden city hidden
In their fever stricken dreams
Time passes without meaning
Jungle followed by more jungle
Many died along their journey
Many mad men found their doom
The leader leads them all to die
Their golden goal is left unreached
Empty rafts sail on the water
Empty like the soul of man
A muse for men to write a songSilently the Moon looks down
Moves the waters all day long
A shiny rock in heaven's crown
A muse for men to write a song
The king stands aloneThe king stands alone
Like a statue made of stone
The last man on top
This hill soaked in blood
He stands among his men
Sun shining now and then
Reflected by a shield
Steel glitters in the field
His highness looks around
Dead men lay on the ground
Just victims of a war
Like thousands were before
Although the king has won
This wasn't the last one
His future isn't bright
Still many foes to fight
What happens when he's done?
None left to tread upon
Now he's old and weak
His path was cruel and bleak
He never took a wife
He wasted all his life
No son to rule his land
It crumbles down to sand
To use the power of the SunMen of science, men of war
Just like Faust they made a pact
Please, Devil, help us, we need more
Give us knowledge for this act
And so the brightest traveled west
Heeding Oppenheimer's call
They flew down to his army nest
To work on means to end us all
They made a light the blind could see
Burning eyes and spreading wide
So bright it reached the starless sea
None escaped the flaming tide
"It works" is what the men declare
Never thinking what they've done
Allowed those leaders who would dare
To use the power of the Sun
Lost poem - Fate vs Free WillIf you believe in chance then listen to this
There is a reason behind all that exists
All of life's actions you took and will take
Are nothing but steps that you had to make
Shake the hand that makes all your moves
Life is a game as the puppeteer proves
Maybe he lets you pull your own strings
If you are lucky, that's what fate brings
You must look destiny straight in the eye
And if you hear providence let out a sigh
Maybe you'll see that you have free will
And you know best whom to love and to kill
Make a choice now and please make it quick
It's all up to you which path you should pick
Stay on board, fly, defy your own fate
Just make up your mind before it's too late
Seize the moment, you know what to do
Make a better world where all works for you
Erase your past and write what's to come
Unless you believe it's already done
If you can't escape or you can't decide
If black tells you lies so you join his side
If living this life is not worth the cost
Then be not afraid, it means you are
Yelling Written Words
If you write me a letter
with your heart full of hate
your words will burn away the paper,
leaving ashes in its wake.
Please keep your written voice down,
the yelling hurts my heart.
Just please don't ask my secrets of me,
it will only make this
that much worse.
Delving deep inside myself,
I push you far away.
These wounds mean nothing to me,
not a feather or a sand grain.
My hands are burnt,
my heart is scarred,
just leave me be,
I'm too far gone.
You gave me bread on a rainy day
Such goodness took my breath away.
You told the world how you felt.
Through shallow confusion my heart melt.
We grew close and drifted apart.
I still love you with all my heart.
I found you hurt and to a cave we fled.
I could only kiss your lips but I watched as you bled.
I had to go to save your life.
I broke a promise that ended your strife.
You found some berries and ended a life.
We heard a cannon; a dog was near.
We ran for the Cornucopia and fled our fear.
Climbing the metal, making it safe.
Cato appeared but I had faith.
He grabbed you up, said it was over.
I had more luck than a four-leaf clover.
He fell to the dogs and they chewed him up.
The Capitol said, "YO MAN, WASSUP?"
"Only one victor can win in the end!"
I told him I wouldn't go without him.
So we grabbed our berries, sorry Prim.
The Capitol wailed, "NO STOP!"
"The winners are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
The Simple PoemThis poem will begin from here.
It shall start with a dusk and a child. Trying.
Trying to fly a kite in the rain.
The sunrays have just dimmed out.
Or mellowed down, surrendering to a dark azure.
The pitter-patter of rains
Drenching the fingers of the child on the roof. Fingers
That hold on to the thread that connects, quite shamelessly,
The dark skies to a kite, blue coloured. Throughout.
The dusk. I would have thought of writing a poem.
And only thought, when the thread shall snap
Taking the kite down. And the child too.
Let's watch the two as they progress downwards
Let's watch the two and see if down's the place they'll be.
Let's watch the two.
One spiralling down through the open air, not knowing
Where it shall land. The other
Climbing down the stairs
Running down the stairs
To a place,
To a land where
The first one promised to land.
I should have known, is ants.
It shall eat through a poem I should have written.
A simple poem, it would have been
Losing MeI find peace in loathing
I suffer pleasure from pain
I feel comfort in dark clothing
Whether judgment or acceptance is my bane
I have cried all my tears
Still in darkness I am bound
Wandering desperately through the years
The true identities never to be found
Lost is all
A blanked out, thrown out memory
From the abuses that do appall
Hope and love was my every
But now my life will soon dissolve
Into a screaming dark place with no resolve...
Her skin of powdered rice paper
the scent of rotting orchids,
a drug-induced Noh dancer with
slowly writhing limbs akimbo-
silver-gilded girl of the moment
at the factory that turned out
Monroe silk screens, and porn
to the drone of a refrigerator,
from asylum to the Big Apple,
the apple of her father's eye
and of his desires, she'd sleep
among the gay lovers, pretty boys
with erotic names of exotic birds,
knowing she was safe for a while
as they quarreled among themselves-
who'd bring her chocolate shakes,
and chauffeur their princess
to her doctor's for injections
(she was too much a lady to do it herself)
until her fingertips became match-heads
setting fire to hotel rooms,
flailing from inside a closet
while bellboys stole her furs-
face of a comatose junkie drawing deep
on filterless cigarettes--
what deeds have you, Edith
But wasn't she fabulous! remembering
back when she and Suky spent trips
screaming from an open convertible
through the San Marcos Pass,
Empty Souls Empty Souls...
The night is black
Nothing but broken stars
And empty dreams
To frame its d.a.r.k.n.e.s.s.
The book is
Its pages numb & mute
It is empty
Because what is a book
Without majestic words
To make it feel
W H O L E
The wind is cold
It speaks lies
With an all-deceiving tongue
It dances with the trees
The lonely moon
With its scent
And I am
The Red Road
There is a Red Road
That stretches from Cape Town to the Elysium Fields
And on that road there is a pit stop at Robben Island
To a prisoner's cell, prisoner 46664
Where the heart of a hero
Was once born
There is a Red Road
That runs from Berlin to Hades
And on the road there is a pit stop at the Biederitz River
Where the brutal ashes of a man named Adolf
Drift away in the currents
There is a Red Road
That lies between Poland to Zion
And on that road there is a pit stop at Auschwitz
Where the spirits of the dead
Still gather at the Death Wall
There are a million pit stops to be made
On the myriad paths of the interwoven labyrinths
That bind us together and tear us apart
Warning you and me of the potholes & pitfalls
On the Red Road that is the World
Telling us in a whisper "Don't forget it"
Telling us in a prayer "Don't repeat it"
©2010 Sarah Donnelly
My BrotherI watched my brother go through the door, wanting him to stay with us for more.
He's too young, he has too much life,
to go where death comes on swift wings.
My mother cries, my father is silent.
I stand as a vigil on our doorway, watching as he fades from sight.
I look through the newspaper, seeing if America won against Iraq.
I see soldiers who are only boys, who have seen more bloodshed than most old men.
I look through the page of the dead, praying I don't see my brothers' name.
He is not, but I still don't sway,
because my brother is still away.
I pray for the day that he comes home,
safe and ok.
The StreetThe street perspires like mad Colombian prostitutes, oozing crystal drops of lust from between the pavement cracks. It calls upon the weak, hungry for their juicy youthful innocence. The street reeks of unfulfilled dreams and warm urine. The homeless are nocturnal marauders, lifeless and without a purpose in the freezing moonlit wind. The street cares for its children, feeding them missed opportunities like a bird shoves chewed worms down its offspring's tight throats. The street gives shelter and wants nothing back except your already doomed soul. The street is my friend, my home, my lover, my tomb. I was born in the street and this is where my life will be claimed without my consent. The street is thirsty and I am its next cold beverage. My empty life is delicious and the street will suck it out through a long thin straw made of stainless steel and gulp on it until there isn't but a memory left of me. The street is wise and fearless and cannot be conquered or reasoned with. It is end
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More