Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

clark · 2002-08-29 15:59:47

mars

Pat Galea · 2002-08-29 16:27:46

Otherwise, cut loose. While any poetry is valid, poetry relating to Mars or space in general is of particular interest for this thread.

Red Planet - Winter.
It's too cold to leave the hab.
Can't wait to GET OUT!

Pat Galea · 2002-08-29 16:30:41

First landing, first words.
"Good luck, Mr Gorsky!". Ah,
Just an urban myth.

Phobos · 2002-08-30 16:53:22

Red Planet - Winter.
It's too cold to leave the hab.
Can't wait to GET OUT!

haha, a fine poem . Now for the, ahem, constructive criticism:

1. I want to see more alliteration in this poem. There's
too many different consonants which makes it sound
rough and somewhat harsh to the ear.

2. I find it somewhat disturbing how you capitalized the
last two words to denote anger on the part of the
subject. It is beyond proper form to resort to such
tactics. One should engage in poetic forms which
are more subtle to convey such emotions.

3. The phrase "Red Planet" is lost on me. This phrase needs more explanation as there is no hope that a reader will understand what is meant by "Red Planet"

My grade A+

As for Clark's poem. I loved the last stanza "One step among many,/With our dreams to guide the way." Not done criticizing it though.

Phobos · 2002-09-03 19:10:33

I like that last poem even more. It tells a good story. I'm not sure who the "lover" is in those last couple of lines though. I take it the volcano itself is acting as the "lover" and not Mars itself or the rock your holding? I say that because you speak of the "time flowing forward" and other phrases which sounds analogous to the effects of a volcano but you switch to Mars itself before writing the lines in question which confuses me as to whether your staying on the subject of Mars or returning to the volcano as the subject in the last lines. Anyways I do get the gist of the poem, of holding a piece of Mar's past and reflecting upon it, or at least that pretty clearly seems to be the intent.

Palomar · 2002-10-29 10:50:52

*Wonderful poems, Clark. You should consider submitting them to Maggie Zubrin; maybe they'd get published in the newsletter. However, only members receive the newsletter; I don't know that you are a member, but perhaps a complimentary copy would be sent to you in exchange for your poems; I think that'd only be right and fair. Contact Mrs. Zubrin and ask her.

--Cindy

Palomar · 2002-10-29 10:54:12

*Hey, is anyone here good at writing in the haiku style? It'd be interesting to see some Marsian haiku.

I'm not very good at writing poems, or haiku. My last attempt at haiku resulted in a few cyber tomatoes being thrown at me.

--Cindy

Phobos · 2002-10-30 00:11:49

*Hey, is anyone here good at writing in the haiku style? It'd be interesting to see some Marsian haiku.
I'm not very good at writing poems, or haiku. My last attempt at haiku resulted in a few cyber tomatoes being thrown at me.
--Cindy

That would be Shaun's department. His winning Mars haiku might still be buried in the threads under "Meta Mars" somewhere if you haven't seen it. There's a lot of other good ones in there to. Hey, I think all writers have had to endure their fair share of cyber tomatoes so just grab a wad of smashed tomatoes and throw 'em back at the bastards.

turbo · 2002-10-31 09:38:11

There Once was a Man from Cydonia
Who's spacesuit was cooled by ammonia

After one little trip
Suit started to drip

Now his bum's the cleanest in the colonia

Palomar · 2002-10-31 11:33:43

There Once was a Man from Cydonia
Who's spacesuit was cooled by ammonia
After one little trip
Suit started to drip
Now his bum's the cleanest in the colonia

*Lol! Good one, Turbo.

And Clark, after reading Rob S's latest post in the terraforming section ["What reason do we have for terraforming Mars"], we might have to include suspended dust as thick as pea soup in a haiku; otherwise, wonderful.

I'll have to give writing a Marsian haiku a shot. And be warned: Any cyber tomatoes thrown in my direction will get them thrown right back at the thrower!

--Cindy

Bill White · 2002-11-19 13:26:54

clark - many of these are excellent!

Not because we could,
dreamer's point to sky above:
Just because we should.

Does "should" mean "duty"?

Duty is truth and truth duty;
this is all ye know and all ye need to know.

This is by memory - I will check the John Keats original when I get home. Anyone (besides clark) who tells me what poem I just vandalized gets a virtual "Hoo-rah" from me.

This poem "reversed" also is interesting:

Not because we should,
dreamer's point to sky above:
Just because we could.

Bill White · 2002-11-19 19:14:24

clark - I beg forgiveness, not permission:

Not because we should;
Dreamers point to sky above,
Just because we could.

We are children of the Earth and sea
Born of salt and water, We
Beloved brethren of Terran blue
Were born to love her oceans hue.

Merely since we could,
dreamers point to sky above:
Thusly, so we would.

Now the children of the Martian sea
Born of rust and desert, We
Banished brethren of Terra blue
Will never know her oceans hue.

Just because we should,
dreamers point to sky above:
They always knew we would.

Byron · 2002-11-21 12:41:50

Well, here goes...

This is my very first attempt at something like this, and since I'm rather clueless when it comes to poetry, style, etc, some of you may cringe a bit..lol...

Just treat this as a burst of emotion or whatever...

The Wonder of An Age

Here I stand, in the face of wonder,
In the midst of this modern miracle of an age.
Rolling along an endless ribbon of concrete
Eighteen inches thick, and two thousand miles long.
Endless trees streaming past, in a land once laid bare
Gleaming city on the horizon, skyscrapers standing tall.
I gaze upward, at the mighty edifices reaching for the sky
Standing on a glass floor -
A quarter mile of verticality beneath my feet.

Oh! The sheer wonder of these times!
Leaping across rivers, mountains and a continent whole
Soaring higher than Everest, eating lunch without a thought
Headin' to a place of wonder they call L.A.
Where they once thought a city would never be.
People moving endlessly to and fro,
Four hundred people catapulting across the sky,
Over an ocean graced with floating cities
Breezing along at a steady forty-two miles per hour.

Hands on keyboards, eyes on flatscreens,
Opening the door for all the world's wonders to behold.
I think back, a mere 6, 8, 10 generations previous
A time when our modern wonders weren't even a conception.
I shed a tear for all those who have toiled without reward
Just so we could have the gift of dreams.
I give thanks to thee,
To all those who have come before me -
So I can celebrate the miracles of this age,
Oh, the wonders of the year Two Thousand Two.

B

Last edited by SpaceNut (2021-05-01 19:10:21)

Palomar · 2002-11-21 13:37:23

and the lungs bleed;

Ummm....?

***

I like Byron's poem best!!

--Cindy

Byron · 2002-11-23 06:52:36

Thanks for the words of encouragement

Glad my poem could be a source of inspiration...

B

Palomar · 2002-11-29 17:08:16

Oh give me a home
where the dust devils roam

Where the sandstorms
and thin high clouds play...

Byron · 2002-12-04 09:54:23

Very interesting, clark...your latest poem is one of the better ones written so far

Sounds like a neat custom, and I certianly don't see anything ethically wrong with it...although I don't see that everyone would want to tattoo their bodies..perhaps people could wear pendants that have an engraved holo image of their loved ones.

The idea of using the "scarlet letter" against murderers and other capital offenders is a wise one, I think...the threat of public shame has proven to be quite effective in reducing the crime rate, and it would be even more practical in an enclosed evironment where everyone knows everyone else.

Waiting to see more...

B

Auqakah · 2002-12-08 11:29:06

Just a little, somewhat silly poem I knocked up some time ago. Wondered what you all thought of it.

Polluted Sky

Standing on the crest of the hill
Father turns to son;
He motions upwards,
To the sky
Where the Stars abide.
He tells of the Plow, of Leo, of the Hunter and Saggitarius;
Of the below horizon-vanished Sun;
And with a nonchalant uncaring flick of his left hand
He shows the first bright pulsing little white flare of the evening;
Not even a star
But a man made, sad and glum little glorified oil drum.

If anyone is interested, you can find more of my poetry at www.poetry.com - just search with my name. Feel free to comment on those, too.

Oh, and heres something that just came to mind.

The Hunter Comes

A little lower than the land
Lies the canyon snow
Spread across the barren fields,
Above the glories glow.
To this land the hunter comes;
His plough tills left and right
And a once calm and silent night
Vanishes out of sight; domes
Spring up; like warts upon the whitened skin
Of a frightened and curse'd widow.

The hunter hunts;
The widow wilts;
And when the dust has settle'd
The snow looks up, and cries
O red sky, where have you fled?

lucke · 2003-03-08 04:20:08

A space poem

Here you can find my poem about Mars. Feel free to leave comments. :;):

prometheusunbound · 2003-07-18 12:19:59

who is it that made the stars of the gloroius night?
who is it that made man, who walks in the glory of all creation?
what is the glory of man, who is made for the glory of his creator?
The only answer is none for man, for all is done in vain.

The victor hears the slave in his ear, "all glory is fleeting"
as he recieves his perishable crown.
It is not the crown that dies, but the crowned.
What is a crown without its king?

Only he who is wise and is easily rebuked by those wiser
will discover the meaning of true glory. . .
It is truly the meek that inheirt the earth,
and the bravely humble that inheirit the stars

The brash and ingnorant, those who do not listen,
Inheirit nothing, and recieve nothing
The enternal question still stands
"does everything matter or does nothing matter?"

prometheusunbound · 2003-07-18 12:35:21

The only answer is none, for all is done in vain.

whoops. I meant the glory of man is nothing. My mistake. . .

Upon rocket they were borne
Up high beyond reach of sky and man.
To touch with wonder what lay before
And stand in awe of what was left behind.

hot damn I like your poetry clark. Could I use it on my website if you would be so kind to provide your real name and other proper information?

prometheusunbound · 2003-07-18 12:46:19

It was mine. I am going to use your poetry on my nonprofit site (the asteroid mining one) when I get back in school in august. . .

prometheusunbound · 2003-07-18 12:47:18

And thank you very much!!!!!!!!!!

prometheusunbound · 2003-07-18 15:54:22

I liked your poem, was there any particular inspiration for it?

Well, I am a christian and I wonder alot about the relationship with God, and I also wonder about the attributes He has given us. . . .and all of that got wrapped up in looking at the stars and wondering about the future of man, with all his depravity and inability. I hope that wasen't too confusing for you guys. Anyways I am pretty much a calvinist when it comes to theology, even though I was raised a methoodist.(My small act of teenage rebelion)

prometheusunbound · 2003-07-18 18:10:16

anyways I was thinking again. . .

In the dark of a thousand nights,
I dream dreams about stars of firey might
that are many chariots over many realms

There is something in what is merely called "Nothing"
Not everything, but, still, something
after all, nothing comes from nothing, and everything must come from something.

the cosmos are perfect,
but who whom sees it cannot be the same, yet yearns to be.
but only the being that did create can be so.

Who are we to witness such majesty in creation?
Who is it that has the audaicy to show his might?
Who is it that dances in the stars and gives us dreams to chase the mighty unknown?

Only the creator, who rendered us from the chaos before.
Only the creator, who rendered us from the dust, but what dust, from the fire of stars
Only the creator, who is.

What is the end of all things, that has the ultimate means?
The oceans roar, the stars twinkle, to what end?
Man shouts on his tiny stage, a darwf, amongest the glory of his creator.

It is the glory of God to conceal a matter,
and for kings to discover it. . . .
But where are the kings, the ones with wisdom?

And who are we to comprehend such things, to know in its full glory and detail?

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#1 2002-08-29 15:59:47

Re: Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

#2 2002-08-29 16:27:46

Re: Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

#3 2002-08-29 16:30:41

Re: Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

#4 2002-08-30 16:53:22

Re: Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

#5 2002-09-03 19:10:33

Re: Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

#6 2002-10-29 10:50:52

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#7 2002-10-29 10:54:12

Re: Any poets? - Comments, CONSTRUCTIVE critisism, ideas.

#8 2002-10-30 00:11:49

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#9 2002-10-31 09:38:11

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#10 2002-10-31 11:33:43

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#11 2002-11-19 13:26:54

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#12 2002-11-19 19:14:24

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#13 2002-11-21 12:41:50

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#14 2002-11-21 13:37:23

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#15 2002-11-23 06:52:36

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#16 2002-11-29 17:08:16

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#18 2002-12-08 11:29:06

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#19 2003-03-08 04:20:08

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#20 2003-07-18 12:19:59

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