Alien Worlds – Part 1
Smelling of rust and something coppery
this hard floor awoke me, chilled through.
My hands reached, and failed to find
a single thing organic, besides myself.
Smelling of oil and something mechanical
this world hums, vibrates to the marrow.
My ears searched, and heard no voices
no single human sound, besides my own.
Smelling antiseptic and perfectly clean
this creature studies me from LED eyes.
My eyes search for an iris and saw none
no single face alive, but my own reflected.
Smelling something alive, and fear-filled
I am brought to the ‘human life sanctuary’.
My heart searches for soul, and finds none
no one here is willing to be alive, only to live.
Alien Worlds Part II
“You really live THERE?” a question incredulous.
You mean HERE? With a 180 sky arching overhead.
You mean HERE? With the living things, alive.
You mean HERE? With dirt roads and barbed wire?
“You really live THERE?” a question, envious.
You mean HERE? Flowers a living riot, cheered by bees.
You mean HERE? Stars and northern lights overhead.
You mean HERE? No person to see unless sought.
You really live THERE?” a question, disgusted.
You mean HERE? Not sanitary nor antiseptic.
You mean HERE? Unpaved, ungroomed and wild.
You mean HERE? Celebrating birth in blood and tears.
“You really LIVE there?” the question, satisifed.
We LIVE here! Some wild, some tame – all balanced.
We LIVE here! Vibrantly, actively and hard too.
We LIVE here! Alien to your tame paved world.
“You really live there?” a question, ending in a sigh.
We live here, with thankful hearts and calloused hands.
We live here, hard times and easy times and between.
We live here, this strange farming world, we truly do.
For dVerse, a challenging poetic prompt to create an alien world in poetry. The passing of the great Ray Bradbury has left a sci fi void which may never be filled. My attempts, both sci fi and real life are here. Be sure to stop by and see who else is sharing their alien worlds at dVerse today. And for those who are wondering, yes farming can seem an alien world – the joy of being covered in afterbirth because the calf lived, the sweeping of hands over swollen heads of grain and admiring a storm swept prairie sky. There is nothing like it in the world, and if you don’t know it it can be very alien!