page 18 | We need engineers, surveyors, horses, mules, steel tools, leather bags bulging with provisions. Provender for our horses.
How many of us are there? The water glows as if illumined from within.
We drink it and we are lighter. Each step carries us further. No petrol, no machines nor batteries. Poets? Priests? Yes, once we've pitched our great cloth tents we'll talk about accidents, about gods and the architecture of crystals; then those poets can rave with their ancient stories, sing of the infant mercury stealing the cattle of Apollo, and being forgiven for it. And we will laugh, and have a home again. ~Connor
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Reached
through tumble
of sleep outliving death,
through dreaming
until old dreams perished
as the distant star
shrunken to dark hunger
and from all memory.
Leapfrogged
through hibernation,
generations surrendered
to suspension of living,
ever detached in lesser
universes of machines,
at flight from home
of the first travelers
but dust to us, the last.
Arrived
without a past,
in absence of gods
and against aridity
of geographers,
we rebelled,
wandered to wildness,
and with new voices,
prepare myths
to map a world. ~Ron
| | a rubber planet. the irony. think of the straitjackets we can make by hand. only a few of us escaped. now we come to one asylum from another. the irony. two ships. two landings. & by any means and ways (god! the walking!) we searched; but we cannot find the others. the others must find their own way. we will not even be able to agree on a name for this barren land; and land must have a name, meaning i.e., home. or, gift - or, prison. something equivalent. what will be their word for home, and will we ever be able to call this place a haven? now what is M doing? oh. no. i don't think M's computerphone will work here. ~susan | | man, i did not expect a landscape landscapes are so old world like i kinna dig it but don't ya think we could have found someplace a little less earthy? like ya know- i dunno. somekind of space junk or somethin. but, if this is how it's got to be. if this is where you wanna land, do me a goddamn favor will ya? kick me in the head if i ever say i'd like to plant a garden. i just can't dig going through that kind of loss again. ~ateto mort
| | And so, Sunday comes and we bow our heads to the wind and seek the wisdom of our fathers in a place where no fathers ever walked and life begins as it ends with a cry and a wisp of dust thrown into the face of a Sunday wind. ~J. Yamashita | | Vacate a Chasm Once we took for granted
a sunlight ...when we could see
now the Sun is itself ...extinct...
which way now to spark the rocks Must we go the other way
and guess the penguin's quest
and draw around his uniform
reflect a life in black and white? Yet we have our memory
remember Milton's plight...
cajole the heated elements
for dance in Dante's fiery sight Survivors of the blast from Earth
strangers now... light years of travel
out here in space we could be one
without a need for community If freedom was inside of Man
‘tis now in truth that it bears fruit
space that is everyman... his own
the Sun is gone, no one cares... the Human ~Meanders |
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