The Astronomer

Detail from
Georges Méliès, Man in The Moon, 1902

Once, my kind were mages.
We followed the star,
read omens of a black moon,
divined, sought godhead
in the timeless abyss –
now we are bred
without questions.
Space is the frontier
of the trillionaire techbots
and we, their slaves of input,
must keep minds blank
while guileless engines
pick apart the theory
of relativity.

An astronomical poem in 55 words for Physics with Bjorn in The Imaginary Garden. Another chapter in my Dystopia series. 

If anyone would like to link up a Flash 55, please do so in the comments below, and have a Kick-Ass Weekend.

The Breeder

You become accustomed
to the term ‘miracle’.
They apply it as a designation
around here, speak in hushed tones,
and your belly
is much admired (and measured).
They feed you up
and send in pamper-bots
so you never complain
about the service,
just wait patiently
until the day they come to harvest
your pumpkin womb.



The next installment in my dystopian series of 55-worders.

Verdure ~ A Sonnet

Starved of the colour, come September,
my eyes are hungry for the night rains
and I hear the roots of grass gasp in pain
to feel the sap rise – and I remember

the touch of your eyes upon my bare skin –
reflection of thick-leaved trees on the lake,
the woods, the weeds, the pasture-path you take
and every journey’s end brings home the green.

True, the drought depletes, grief feeds on ashes
yet a full moon drips silver from sultry clouds
on upturned hands of imploring branches –

love returns, scattering seeds on dry ground
and we can only grow again, live passion
as verdant buds springing fresh from the brown.



A Neruda-style sonnet for Kim's challenge: A Rainbow of Sonnets.

The Philosopher

They promised us eternal life
at the Schadenfreude Wholeness Centre:
“No Exits: Only Entries” –
such believable smiles
on the faces of the doc-bots.
We should have known there’d be a catch
when we thumbprinted over
‘cerebral autonomy’
but deliberate ignorance
is the last survival tool of those fit
enough for the brain-farms
of cyber science.



A paradox in 55 words for Friday Flash, inspired by Fireblossom Friday in The Imaginary Garden.


Anyone wishing to share their 55-worder, please leave a link in comments below.. and let's have a Kick-Ass weekend.

The Harper

I wouldn’t call it employment –
rather a mad ploy
to avoid retrenchment
(I’ve been to the trenches…)
The electro-harp wasn’t my first choice
but I’ve my set pieces
(nocturnes preferred)
and we’re all fish under water
in this fog of the euthanasia wing
but the clientele are big tippers
and seemed soothed
in their passing.



A dirge in 55 words for Friday Flash, an ekphrastic poem based on the image supplied by Visual Verse for September.

Anyone wishing to share their 55-worder, please leave a link in comments below.. and let's have a Kick-Ass weekend.

Heartfruit

for Jaime

@skyloverpoetry

You are to me
the true tether – the indivisible
umbilical attaching moon
to the ground beneath my feet –
the fruit in the heart
of the flower before it buds –
the certainty
that high tide will follow low –
There is no poem as perfect
as the curl of your fingers in mine
on the first day


A birthday poem, in 55 words, for my youngest daughter.

Toni's prompt on Real Toads, asks poets to Step into the Void. I believe this poem speaks of the Two Dimensional Realm - 六畳の間 (roku jo no ma)

Memoriae

Damnatio Memoriae

Shell
Edward Weston (1927)

Memory curls inward

self-contained in little rooms

pearl-boxes, nacre chambers

spiralling dark matter

of this day

of that day

a Fibonacci sequence

that won’t stay buried alive

but must dig itself out crabwise

delve through detritus.

Camera FLASH! in The Imaginary Garden