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L B  Jun 2018
Flood Stage
L B Jun 2018
Later at the same address
A storm of words reaches flood stage
A couch is bobbing in the currents
towards its mangled ruin-nexus
of matchsticks in cyclonic flow
among the renegade
trash
hanging
from the limbs like tinsel

Meanwhile
chair heaved through her door
Like the river
I am not above my rage
at this stage
of more than enough....
Clever daughter's got my goat
Turns my words on dimes
Lays into me
her score of blame
Each blow to drop me further

presses all my buttons at one time
despite the flashing
Warning! Warning!

“Fine! Fine!”

She blows-out through the afternoon
right past me
in a torrent of curses
A stubborn perfect storm
of words
has taken out parental dam
and blown out toward the Bay of Freedom
to the sorrows of her day

The river may crack its whip
But its got nothing on her

nothing is left standing
in her way
Lunar  Mar 2017
cyclonic
Lunar Mar 2017
I thought of the boy who has yet to be the best of himself. I thought of how the love I felt for him seemed like a crooked line, wanting to bend and curve into any shape possible. I thought of how his words enraptured me like a tornado with its never-ending cyclonic movement; a cycle of feeling the rush of breathlessness. I thought of how the boy has my heart and mind racing in a circle. I thought of how he was soon to grow into a hurricane, ready to captivate others beside me. I thought again of how he has yet to be the best of himself; give him a thousand rotations of the clock to grow. But I realized how much better I can be for him by then, when now he has already gotten the best of me.
i was given the words best and circle, and this was what came out of those two words.
Ignatius Hosiana Aug 2016
It was a story of
why and when
of now and then
of miles I ran
of mice and men
It was a story
of lost at Sea
of fantasy
with ecstasy
for the much I longed to see
in A-B-C
it was a story
of storms
broken homes
lost norms
silent gongs
rightful wrongs
it was a story of
strings and thongs
sweet unsung songs
of fractured bones
and forgotten bonds
it was a story of
wild fires to fend
scars to tend
the rigid to bend
a story of foe and friend
of consolation that does pend
of craft we didn't send
and of trying in vain to blend
It was a story hardly penned
for all who could "henned"
A cyclonic story
none could understand
why it didn't end...
richie dagger Aug 2010
A man born inside a cyclone will always spin
He walks a crooked path, smiles a crooked grin
A swirling torrent of energy
Unable to be controlled,... having no symmetry
****** down the drain and stuck in the well
He sees no difference in an utopia or hell
Pushes away, likes to keep his distance
Most will even question his existence
Such a strange being, what kind of world is he in?
What is he seeing through those crystal eyes and that crooked grin?
A tongue like a snakes and a bite twice as venomous
A vicious demeanor described as monstrous
A man of pure intentions and a strong will
But when born in a cyclone nothing ever stands still
A star has fallen and an angel lost its wings
The demons are calling and a siren sings
For a man born inside a cyclone
Throws caution to the wind
He's a crooked man walking a crooked path
With a crooked grin
11/13
rained-on parade Jul 2015
Cyclonic is your kind of adjective;
I suppose I was born to love storms
like you.

I could never really keep my hands to
myself. Nor my mouth. Or my words.

I love you like hurricanes love destruction
and mornings love reckoning.
My life is a series of misfortunes disguised as experience.
Luka Love Dec 2012
It’s the morning after the last heart session
Eyes open but brain still crackling with static and white noise
When I try it again
Hoping to get pen to paper
Before consciousness can recover sufficiently to intervene
And proffer pretty syntax to the poem
Hold the mind blank
And stack the words in rows of green growth
Like garden beds
That only need time and attention to bear fruit
Let truth come from some other place
Than reason or left brain
Or the extensive vocabulary
Meticulously indexed in the cranial cavity
Somewhere near the brain stem
Or maybe in the DNA
As C, T, G, and A
Storing data like binary only twice as complex
The recall mechanism operating in the darkness of our comprehension
Apprehension of its failure threatening to leave the poem unfinished
Unillustrated
Uncalibrated
Un-fact checked
Like that matters somehow
Like the facts are important in art
Like the right brain has no sense of propriety
Just as surely as the heart tells lies in gibberish
A chattering maelstrom of syllables in a cyclonic vacuum
And yet somehow the heart speaks with perfect clarity
Uncluttered rhythm
Timing and flow
So you know there is more going on here than we fully understand
Lend a hand to help decipher the intentions of a part of yourself wayward from the rest of you
Leading to a collapse of the ego
And a blurring of the lines between you and I
Turning discrete data into continuous
On the fly
On the run
Under sun and and moon and sky
Until the day that even death fails to be discrete
Or even an event any more important than a fire
Converting energy from one form to another
Robert C Howard Feb 2015
The griffin outside my balcony
squinted and shook
flipping Kansas City
upside down and back.

Giant flakes descended
like softest down -
coating the plaza below
with a mantel of frosted white.

The griffin is squinting once more.
Watch out; hold on tight!
Here we go again
whirling about in a cyclonic flurry
of magic fairy crystals.

*August, 2010
Vivian Grace May 2017
I move my eyes left to right
and if someone from afar saw me
well
they wouldnt know
they would think maybe,
had they seen me up close,
that this diversion was,
as some corruptions can be,
containing two sides
like i had a book or
piece of fuzz i was following
with my eyes
a smooth transition
but the dismal certainty
says otherwise
that this split noticing
is involuntary movement
from one part of me
to the other
from one decision
to the opposing
from one yes
scaling to no
and vice versa

a sort of cyclonic woe
Gerry Aldridge May 2016
The Coronation.

Weightless stars drop silently like petals
From a distant place way up far beyond the night sky.
Winter flowers blossom and fly away
Landing like moths on the night, turning to petals, then rain.
To shower you in love over and over again on this majestic day.

Distant orchestras come together in a cyclonic, deafening crescendo
Commanded by maestros flailing wands from the peaks of the highest mountains.
Roll great drums! Make music for my Queen violins and cellos!
Ring through valleys and across deserts
Sweep up all the world’s musicians along the way!

Fireworks ignite the darkness with day.
Rainbows burst, more stars, come petals
Saturate you in light.
And shower you with my love on this,
The day of your Coronation.

Great Gods have come to celebrate
Smiling down they send their angels
To drench your glowing torso in rose petals
And kiss you gently as they settle,
While my tied hands yearn to give you a fond caress.

Every creature in the universe has attended the grandest ceremony in time.
Each gleefully holding a single rose petal
To weave into your hair.

My bound arms reach across continents carried like breath on the wind
To deliver you my heart.
Close your fist and make a wish
What would your soul like to find inside?

True loves lay sleeping snuggled together on the bed of the universe.
Calm is the Queen
With her single red rose.

……………………………………………………

Sun rises and all the petals have transformed into snow.
Still soft, still comforting.
But with an eerie emptiness of a dream that has yet to be told.
Joy is frozen in our hearts
For Love eternal was denied the throne this time.

Remember my sweet darling
You are now my Queen of Roses.
And in a palace somewhere,
As far away as near
I am your King.
(Gerry Aldridge)
Wonderful to find this group. I hope you like my first contribution.
jonchius Sep 2015
entering year 2000
rewinding vhs tape
installing napster client
anticipating victorious gore
bursting dot-com bubble
blocking tomorrow's nostalgia
commemorating festival tragedy
examining supersonic concorde
watching election coverage
recounting inconvenient truths
puzzling interface design
booing nuc-u-lar president

rising black monolith
editing non-linear encyclopedia
feeling inaugurally bushed
reliving century's dawn
unchanging state flag
processing royal massacre
escaping insane asylum
sensing impending collapse
perusing city guide
collapsing contemporary structures
initiating quixotic peacekeeping
ignoring conscription threats

entering year 2002
reporting unfortunate pearl
relaxing shotgun porch
exploding roadside bombs
addressing thousand followers
hugging financial meltdown
writing resembling skylines
shocking archipelagic bursts
processing theatrical disaster
tightening homeland security

entering year 2003
proliferating elegant telegnosis
rejecting freedom fries
blazing wartime trails
toppling dictatorial statue
unfurling "mission accomplished"
handling continental blackout
ejecting coronal masses

entering year 2004
flashing multiple sobriquets
populating dorm-roomy website
high-grossing aramaic movie
generating tunnel vision
rushing national anthem
parading goth athletes
letting games begin
accepting soviet passports
continuing obscure flumadiddle
lunar-eclipsing world series
two-terming republican regime
declining personality cult
glowing orange revolution
eroding periglacial drumlins
inundating lacustrine basins
exciting geomorphological processes
enduring tumultuous tsunami

entering year 2005
blasting "galvanize" repeatedly
unforgiving cyclonic scenario
printing controversial drawing
sketching cartoon prophet
overturning hurricane alphabet
rigging medal count
preparing new horizons
rejecting flash sites

entering year 2006
setting plutonian destination
synchronizing new horizons
sighting stellar foison
maintaining feudal system
emerging microblogging service
reading ancient tweets
rotating golden statue
mounting social debt
protesting planetary demotion
forecasting catastrophic recession
executing "innocent" dictator

entering year 2007
declining share prices
building ruby railroad
lifting presidential term-limits
perpetuating oil-rich dictatorships
falling interstate bridge
slugging giant bonds
clothing blackwater mercenaries
disappearing internet personalities
unforgiving writers strike

entering year 2008
stealing variable thunders
relaxing domain names
letting games continue
exploding sunrise propane
requesting birth certificate
electing another suit
disappointing orthodox republicans
microblogging maximal meltdown

entering year 2009
inaugurating new president
encountering bear markets
cackling risible laughter
dying pop king
deleting neolithic internet

entering year 2010
collapsing presidential palace
prospering cinematic avatar
pronouncing eyjafjallajökull effortlessly
"kettling riot police
flaming cop cruiser"
blasting text-based vuvuzelas
leaking diplomatic cables
fading pre-twitter memories
self-immolating street vendor

entering year 2011
"enervating nine-point quake
propagating harbor wave
inundating nuclear plant
irradiating unclear fates"
raging mid-eastern spring
throwing body asea
locating trojan asteroid
penetrating financial throughfare
resonating oral amplifier
blazing verdant material

entering year 2012
rising chubby dictator
gentrifying weird twitter
exploding next month
intriguing "fake" passport
proliferating single-hued avatars
surging sandy cyclone
inhabiting alternate universe
manipulating another election
rigging people's ballots
perpetuating manipulated world
fulfilling megalomaniac urges
surviving previous apocalypse
surviving another baktun

entering year 2013
descending rogue meteor
encoding festival weekend
obfuscating's very own
approving snow den
searching yaya island
soaking wet veld

entering year 2014
missing plane geometry?
annexing peninsular territory
printing powdered medication
forecasting meteoric boomtime
prevailing monochromatic identity
avoiding aviation accidents
determining auspicious date
revising deactivation plans
reliving years 2000-2014
Its 8:30 in the AM
The Corn Moon
is being routed by a
Manassas cloud bank

NPR be barking
Irma this, Irma that
my tremblin Rav4
stuck in the rush
is idling behind
a pair of gray hairs
spewing
leaded premium
out the back
of a big old black Buick
sportin Florida tags

inching north up I95
I’m relieved to be
a thousand miles
ahead of the
monstrous *****
denuding Barbuda
deflowering the
****** Islands
and threatening to topple
the last vestiges of
Castro’s Dynasty
by disrupting upscale
bourgeois markets
for cafe Cubanos,
cool Cohibas and
bold Bolivars

she’s a CAT 5
counterclockwise
spinning catastrophe
churning through
the Florida straits
bending steel framed
Golden Arches
shaking the tiki shacks
gobbling lives
defiling tropical dreams

the best
meteorological minds
on the Weather Channel
plug the Euro model
to plot a choreography
of Irma’s cyclonic sashay

they predict she’ll
strut her stuff
up a runway  
that perfectly
dissects the  
Sunshine State
ransacking
the topography
venting carnage
like battalions of
badly behaved frat boys,
schools of guys gone wild
sophomores, wreaking havoc
during a Daytona Beach
spring break
droolin over *******
popping woodies at
wet tee shirt contests
urinating on doorstoops
puking into Igloo Coolers
and breaking their necks
from ill advised
second floor leaps
into the shallow end
of Motel 6 pools

but I’m rolling north
into the secure
arms of a benign
Mid Atlantic Summer
like other refugees,
my trunk is
filled with baggage
of fear and worry
wondering
if there’re be anything
left to return to
once Irma
has spent herself
with one last
furious ****
against the
Chattanooga Bluffs of
Lookout Mountain

Morning Edition
Is yodeling a common
seasonal refrain
the gubmint is
just about outta cash
congress needs to
increase the debt limit

My oh my,
has the worm turned
during the Obama years
the GOP put us through a
Teabag inspired nightmare
gubmint shutdowns
and sequestration
shaved 15 points
off every war profiteers vig
it gave a well earned
long overdue
take the rest of the week off
unpaid vacation
to non essential
gubmint workers
while a cadre of
wheelchair bound
Greatest Generation
military vets get
locked out of the
WWII Memorial on the
National Mall

this time around
its different
we have an Orange Hair
in the office and there's
some hyper sensitivity
to raise the debt ceiling
given that Harvey
has yet to fully
drain from the
Houston bayous

the colossal cleanup
from that thrice in a
Millennial lifetime storm
has garnered bipartisan support
to  clean up the wreckage
left behind by a
badly behaved
one star BnB lodger
who took a week
long leak into the
delicate bayous of
Southeast Texas

yet we are infused
with optimism that our
Caucasian president
and his GOP grovelers
now mustered
to the Oval Office
will slow tango
with the flummoxed
no answer Dems
to get the job done

pigs do fly in DC
Ryan and McConnell
double date with
Pelosi and Schumer
get to heavy pettin
from front row seats
beholding droll  
Celebrity Apprentice
reruns

The Donald, Nancy and Chuck
slip the room for a little
menage au trois side action
transforming Mitch and Paul
into vacillating voyeurs
who start jerking their dongs
while POTUS, and his
new found friends
get busy workin
the art of a deal

rush hour peaks
static traffic grows
in concert with
a swelling  
frenetic angst
driving drivers
to madness
terrified
they won't
get paid if
the debt ceiling
don't rise
they honk horns
rev engines
thumb iPhones
and sing out
primal screams

unmindful drivers
piloting Little Hondas
bump cheap Beamers
start a game of
bumper cars
dartin in and out
of temporary gaps
uncovered by the
spastic fits and starts
of temporary
decongested
ebbs and flows

A $12 EZ Pass
gambit is offered
the fast lane
on ramp
has few takers
just another
pick your pocket
gubmint scheme
two express lanes
lie vacant
while three lanes of
non premium roadway
boast bumper to bumper
inertness
wasted fuel
declining productivity
skyrockets
the  wisdom of
the invisible hand doesn't
seem to be working

DOJ bureaucrats
In Camrys and Focuses
dial the office
to let somebody
know they’ll
be tardy

gubmint contractors in
silver Mercedes begin
jubilantly honking horns
NPR has just announced that
Pelosi and Schumer
joined the Orange team
the rise in the debt ceiling
will nullify their 15%
sequestration pay cut

NPR reports the
National Cathedral will
deconsecrate two hallowed
stained glass windows of
rebel generals R E Lee
and Stonewall Jackson
it's a terrible shame that
the Episcopal Church
will turn its back on the
rich Dixie WASPS
who commissioned these
installations to commemorate
the church's complicity
in sanctifying the
institution of slavery,
WWJD?

as I ponder
this Anglican
conundrum another
object arrests my
streaming consciousness
upsetting an attention span
shorter and less deep
than the patch of oil  
disappearing under the front
of the RAV as I thunder by
at 5 MPH

to the left I eye a
funny looking building
standing at attention
next to a Bob Evans

I’m convinced
Its gotta be CIA
a 15 story
gubmint minaret
a listening post
wired to intercept
mobile digital
confabulations
from crawling traffic
inching along
beneath its feet

this thinking node
pulsing with
intelligence
reeking with
counterintelligence
the tautological
contradiction
guarantees the
stasis of our
confused
national consciousness

strategically positioned to
tune into the
intractable Zeitgeist
culling meta code
planting data points
In Big Data
data farms
running algos
to discern bits
of intelligence
endeavoring to reveal
future shock trends
knows nothing
reveals less

the buildings cover
is its acute
conspicuousness
gray steel frame
silver tinted glass
multiple wireless antennas
black rimmed windows
boldly proclaim
any data entering
this cheerless edifice
must abandon all hope
of ever being framed
in a non duplicitous
non self serving sentence

the gray obelisk a
national security citidel
refracts the
fear and loathing
the sprawling
global anxiety
our civilization's
discontent
playing out
in the captive
soft parade
ambling along
the freeway jam
imobilized
at its stoop

Moning Edition jingle
follows urgent report of
FEMA scamblin assets
arbitraging Harvey and Irma
triaging two
tropical storm tragedies
and a third girl
just named Maria
pushed off the Canaries
and is on its way to a
Puerto Rico
homecoming

while
gubmint  bureaucrats
anxiously push on
to their soulless offices
the rush hour jam
has peaked
my WAZE
is having a
nervous breakdown

next lane over
a guy in a gold PT Cruiser
is banging on his steering wheel
don’t think this unessential worker
will win September's
civil servant of the month award

Ex Military
K Street defectors
slamming big civie
Hummers
getting six mpg
lobby for a larger
apportionment
of mercenary dollars
for Blackwater's
global war on terror

Prius Hybrids
silently roll on
politely driven by
EPA Hangers On
hoping to save
a bit of the planet
from an Agency Director
intent on the agency's
deconstruction
the third 500 year hurricane
of the season
is of no consequence

obsolete
GMC Jimmy’s
are manned by
Steve Mnunchin
wannabes
the frugal
treasury dept
ledger keepers
pour good money after bad
to keep the national debt
and there clanking
jalopies working

driving Malibus
DOL stalwarts
stickin with the Union
give biz to GMC

nice lookin chicks
young coed interns
with big daddy doners
fix their faces and
come to work
whenever they want

my *** is killing me
I squirm in my seat
to relieve my aching sacroiliac
and begin to wonder if my name
will appear on some
computer printout today?
can’t afford an IRS audit
maybe my house will
be claimed by some
eminent domaine landgrab?
Perhaps NSA
may come calling,
why did I sign that
Save The Whales
Facebook Petition?

The EZ Pass lane
is movin real easy
mocking the gridlock
that goes all the way
to Baltimore
a bifurcated Amerika
is an exhaust spewing
standing condemnation
to small “R”
republicanism  

glint from windshields
is blinding
my **** is hurtin and
gettin back to Jersey
gunna take a while
GPS recalcs arrival time

an intrepid Lyft driver
feints and dodges
into the traffic gaps
drivin the shoulder
urging his way to the
Ronnie Reagan International
I'm sure
gettin heat from
a backseat fare
that shoulda pinged
an hour earlier

Irma creeps
toward the Florida Keys
faster then the
glacial jam
befuddling congress

I think I just spotted
Teabag Patriot
Grover Norquist
manning a rampart
bestriding a highway overpass
he’s got a clipboard in hand
checking the boxes
counting cars
taking names
who’s late?
who’s unessential?

man
whatta jam we're in

Music Selection:
Jeff Beck: Freeway Jam

Orlando
9/21/17
jbm
written as im stuck in jam headin back to jersey
Robert C Howard May 2016
Sinbad’s sea-battered ship was
poised on the edge of annihilation,
The Sultan's brow furrowed with curiosity,
then without warning
Scheherazade stilled her narrative
and lived to see the morning sun.

When the moon and stars next owned the sky,
Sinbad was snatched from the jaws of death
then the saga of Prince Kalandar
seized the king's soul with wonder
but Scheherazade left the tale unfinished
and sang with the birds at dawn.

Rimsky-Korsakoff  turned the pages at his desk -
consumed by Scheherazade’s charms
then etched his pen across the waiting staves:
The violin must weave her spell once more
and bassoon and oboe take the prince’s part.

Trombone and trumpet led the martial call
and all the rest enlisted for the cause.
Russian bravura fused with the seductive allure
of exotic tunes born of the dust on the silken road.

A sonic whirlwind filled Saint Paul Church,
as winds and tremolos grew to cyclonic force.
A wall of brass completed Kalandar’s tale.
capped by an exuberant clash of cymbal plates.

The silence yielded to tender violins
chanting a hymn to the princess in all her grace.
Tambourine and winds wove a tapestry
of her debonaire and most virtuous prince.

As the final pizzicato chord faded, the Sultan
turned to Scheherazade with tear-filled eyes
and beheld his immortal princess
and she her valiant and eternal prince
and so it would be as long as night preceded dawn.

She kissed away his tears of joy and whispered in his ear,
“My beloved husband, I will tell you stories forever.
Tomorrow you shall learn of the Feast at Baghdad.”
Another site I have posted on, Poetfreak.com is shutting down so I am moving some the poems here. More refugees will follow.
Diego Cocinero  Mar 2015
Baa
Diego Cocinero Mar 2015
Baa
“Baa”, Bylon fell into a soft woolen sigh
Hoping a bright star would cross the great sky
For these now were the long nights of the year
And to miss her nightly wish was her humble fear
To be safe and keep healthy, and also from harm
Was a wish she’d kept constant for those on the farm
But tonight the stars set still in their twinkling
And for hope of a change, Bylon had just an inkling
Zion, the lion had sprung from the sun
Come out of the union with the infinite One
Born of fire, his desire was to teach what he’d learned
From inside the live spirit, whereas he had burned
For more knowledge, more wisdom and that in between
From experiences he foresaw and those he had seen
His fiery launch propelled him to the planet of life
Where he wished to release at least one lamb from strife
Her eyes, they met the fire from afar
Happy at last to see her shooting star
She knew she had waited for this night to come
And as it drew nearer, she became numb
It was brighter than any she’d seen before
A brilliant blue-violet emerged from its core
Larger in size it grew as it approached
A ball of flames and sparks burst when our sky it touched
With this fiery display, Bylon’s mouth was agape
Gasping in awe with the flames taking shape
They formed a large head atop a four-legged frame
As she noticed its tail, she heard “Zion’s my name
I will not harm you, please trust me”, he demanded
“As you can see, I’ve not burned where I’ve landed
Your fleece won’t catch fire, for the flames are illusion
Made of pure light to aid my propulsion”
Bylon’s fear soon faded from Zion’s assurance
Yet still was amazed by the recent occurrence
She managed to mumble some sort of a greeting
She admitted “I’m humbled by this fantastic meeting
Your majestic appearance has built my suspense
I imagine your purpose here is just as intense”
Zion now brightened with his chance to speak
“My Father was right, you’re incredibly meek
Of course all that he says is always the truth
And I’m happy he sent me in the prime of your youth
For the task he set forth for me to present
Is much more marvelous than my display of descent
You have been chosen to journey the planets within
This system of orbs where they do more than spin”
“Their attitudes differ as like the animals here
And the attributes they share most subtly appear
In fact as we pass the atmosphere here and now…”
“We’re already in outer space!” She exclaimed “Wow!”
“We’ve decided on lady’s first, my Father and I
So off to the planet Venus you and I will fly”
As they glided through space guided by a blue-greenish glow,
Bylon’s expression inside began to surface and grow
She smiled with glee, her eyes wide with surprise
Zion glowed even greater when he caught a glimpse of her eyes
A look of sadness and welled up tears of bliss
And sooner than she’d thought, they’d come to Venus
Bylon began to sense a magnificent pleasance
As they crossed over into the planet’s comfortable essence
A complete warming comfort caused her to tingle inside
While fearlessly floating in a free-falling glide
The two of them softly landed on billowing gas
A substance that sustained as planetary mass
It swirled around and soon started to whisper
She spoke “I am Venus, please feel at home here”
And Bylon did, as Zion knew she would
For the surrounding energy was only good
The voice of Venus was like the song of a bird
The most beautiful sound Bylon had ever heard
She assured them they were welcome as long as they were there
And soon she bid farewell to the pair
They departed and felt at ease with the journey
They were traveling now to Mercury for learning
For he was the most educated of the bunch
And they’d arrived there with precise timing for lunch
Mercury was prepared and shared with them food
For to do any different would have made him feel rude
The food was served warm as was his generous banter
When he played music and sang, he was the enchanter
His charm was abundant, and his knowledge was great
They had learned much in the time to clear a plate
Feeling mentally full and digestively fit
Restlessness set in, causing inability to sit
Bylon expressed how gracious this time had been
Zion agreed, sharing Bylon’s ear-to-ear grin
Mercury gave his regards and bid them a safe and swift trip
“Hope you catch Mars in a good mood” was his departing tip
Zion assured Bylon there was no cause for worry
And with a flash, off to Mars, all around becoming blurry
When they came closer to the red planet of war
There could be heard a loud noise, as if the sky had just tore
A rippling resonance was felt as they still flew through space
There was a fierce storm brewing at a marvelous pace
Dense and coarse clouds of sand swirled around on the ground
Flying rock and ferocious flurries created a deafening sound
It was frightening, Bylon voiced, to see such a display
Zion assured her, “This turmoil is his only way
To express his frustrations and fears open and free
And release the pressure that he harbors beneath
For Mars is the protector of the bodies in this system
As a passionate warrior, he‘s proud to assist them
There’s a spot we can land in the eye of the storm
As we touch down there you may feel quite warm”
With a turbulent landing, Bylon felt less at ease
The storm’s cyclonic friction added several degrees
Enough to make the usually cold planet quite hot
For this size of a storm, though, this seemed a safe spot
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” bellowed the red planet
Mars strives for the best measure, just as he planned it
“We come with peaceful intent”, Zion now pleaded
“I’m curious to know your discontent” Bylon bleated
“Are you actually worried about being attacked?”
“This is more than protection, as a matter of fact.”
“This is how I display my deepest passions”
“Through my physical aggressive actions”
“If challenged, I keep intact my defenses”
“This seems to hone my other present senses”
“Interesting,” spoke Bylon “you are quite frank.”
“For your honesty and candor I do thank”
Zion added “It’s nice that we can feel safe here”
“In the midst of this, and yet free from fear”
“Regardless, we should probably be on our way”
“It has been nice here after all” Bylon began to say
Mars bade them farewell, and let up on the storms
His personality seemed to surface in so many forms
Bylon, feeling anxious about meeting another
“Let’s visit Jupiter, the next planetary brother”
“His large size is quite impressive to me” said she
“Plus I’ve heard good things of his philosophy”
Zion added “it is true, he has quite a broad-mind”
“His nature towards others I find to be kind”
The moons of Jupiter alone were amazing
Bylon thought, as she found herself gazing
Io, Callisto, Ganymede, and Europa were just four
Further observance spotted evidence of even more
Upon arrival Jupiter provided a most jovial welcome
“I’m happy to see you made it this far” he tells them
Zion filled him in of how well it had been going
“Although I’m sure you will end up knowing,”
“Due to your extensive knowledge of this system”
“Without such data it would be hard to assist them”
“This is true” acknowledged Jupiter, “of their history, how”
“It relates to all that is to come and what is here now”
“For the cycles that encompass our existence in space”
“Help us observe the rhythm behind their embrace”
“We’ve seen comets return, and their hint of a path”
“With which we calculate through the precision of math”
“And in turn this must give you a broader perspective”
Bylon spoke thoughtfully “It must keep you most active”
“Keeping tabs on this wildly diverse planetary tribe”
“And in this you must take quite a bit of pride”
“I try to be a modest giant in their midst” Jupiter said
“Not wanting any of them to think I have a big head”
Zion thought the large planet to be very admirable
To speak of his great role and still remain humble
Thanking generous Jupiter for his cheery disposition
The gracious lion reminded Bylon of their mission
As Bylon gratefully extended a reluctant goodbye
Zion launched them up and through Jupiter’s sky
In a twist, a turn and the faintest flicker of his tail
The two now eyed a course for Saturn and set sail
Bylon was suddenly amazed by the sight before her
Brilliantly colored rings that beckoned any explorer
Zion explained to her the protection she’d been granted
From the hot and cold planets on which they’d landed
He also noted that with Saturn it would differ slightly
As his coldness was from inside a place locked tightly
For Saturn was the most reserved of all planets known
But from his wisdom we all have greatly grown
He patiently ponders many mysteries from within
Giving the necessary thought through meditation
“I have been expecting you”, Saturn gravely claimed
“It’s nice of you to come on the day that was named”
“After an old Italian corn god who once had a week”
“Revered in his honor for which I no longer seek”
“So for all of God’s purposes I accept my position”
“Ancient insight bestowed through introspective vision”
“And yet, like most times, I want to be alone”
“So I’ll send you two on the way you are going”
From the rings surrounding they took their flight
To the planet known for the system’s darker side
This would be Uranus, who behaved a bit odd
Erratic was his usual behavior, more often than not
(unfinished ballad)
This is an unfinished work I started in '99 & have not yet brought myself to finish.

— The End —