Godspeed

My mind has been stuck in space. I think I'll be writing about it a lot in the coming weeks. I just finished collaborating (my first time doing so) with a DeviantArt friend of mine on a poem about space. I'm really pleased with how it turned out and I'd like to share it with you.

If you have the time, I encourage you to check out her gallery. Her name is Baylee, but she goes by hhesitate. She's quite the prolific artist/writer. You may find her gallery here: http://hhesitate.deviantart.com/ Please do not stalk her. (seriously)

Poem.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Godspeed

sometimes i pretend i'm a dragonfly -

skimming across a pond 

at midnight, 

seeing things

all as a reflection,

and i'm not alone between the stars

deluded

prying open my consoles

convinced

if i can eat all the wires

i'll become a machine and not need air

and open all the windows

of my little ship to purge the oxygen

from my skin, a quiet and 

translucent burden

i swear,

if i see one more

violent,

violet,

haunting-my-dreams

nebula

i'll open all the windows

and float on home:

(after all

my heart

is just an engine

made from the remnants

of a dying star)

sometimes

when i know no one

is watching, i'll turn on the speakers

spewing static and subsonic waves,

and interpret solar radiation

as sound, surrounding everything 

with the voices of old gods

the billions and billions

of old gods

which is silly, because i'm the only soul out here, after all

give my apologies to the engineer

who built my little ship;

i'm afraid he won't want it when i return

as i've drawn all over it, you see,

images leaking from my head 

where the cosmos have bent away

refracted dust and starlight

creeping from the windows

like curling frost

or cracks, chasing one another, 

godspeed 

i think the astronauts have

made a mistake: it's more lively up here 

than any average day on the sun-soaked earth,

even if the craters and comets aren't alive, anyway:

if dust fades to dust, and if dust 

is what was and what will be, 

i've fallen further for it than anything else

(even if i am miles and miles and light years high)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you have it, post number eight. (approach with trepidation)