Poems

The Final Frontier

For so long we have wondered what is in the skies above
Going father than any man, woman, or child has ever dreamed of
We find that exploration is a thing humans love
What about what we do know?
The farthest we have gone is the moon

And Mars we will see soon
Such talk centuries ago would make you seem like a buffoon.
Then again it was mostly inopportune
With such an ever expanding universe our spot is the only known with life.
Just as much strife as a housewife.

In comparison, we are an atom.
Throughout our history of feminism, racism, and activism,
our time had gone so fast, but only in comparison.
Driven to the limits.
Drunken with the mission of taking a region and calling it a nation.

When you look at it; space is a very scary place.

Black holes sucking anything that comes near to erase without a trace.
Stars burning 1 million times hotter than a fireplace.
If you plan to go near one bring sunscreen just in case.
Comets and asteroids roaring across the cosmos in a desperate race.
Planets that seem  to outpace.
Earth's inhabitants only known to embrace.
Its all thanks to the forces of gravity.
It all seems crazy and daftly,
but it all makes us happy.
Artfully unifying our worlds and dangers so quietly and correctly.
Crucially identifying what fate has in store for our short lived universe.
Then again, fate has a way of being kind.

Its just so hard to find the right chime
and the finest wine.
Our entire existence is based on one sole thing:

being the ones to see the universe as puzzling.

What is the formula for life
and our true place in the comic confines of the Big Bang radiation?

Do we really deserve to meet new life?

Are we ready to prove our intelligence to improving our society?
It just makes me angry that being cocky might be our greedy end.
Yet we do not flee
Knowingly seeing our division
Being morphed with every decision
My fear is that we will destroy ourselves before another species gets the chance
Then again, seeing what hope is left.
Hoping that it won't be a victim of theft.
Stealing hope is like taking food from a homeless person

verses the ones who already have none.
Until the battle is won we cannot be broken.
Revving our engine to be given a hidden shotgun.
Looking chaos in the eyes, whom deserves a slug between them.
In order to take back what is stolen.
Our progress
Our hope
Our change
Our lives 
Most of all, our bright future vision.

"We have one collective hope: The Earth.
And yet uncounted people remain hopeless.
Famine and calamity abound.
Sufferers hurl themselves into the arms of war.
People kill and get killed in the name of someone else's concept of God.
Dare we admit that our thoughts and behaviors spring from a belief that the world revolves around us?
Each fabricated conflict, self murdering bomb, vanished airplane,
Every fictionalized dictator, biased partisan and wayward son
Are part of the curtains of society's racial, ethnic, religious, national and cultural conflicts?
And you find the human ego turning the knobs and pulling the levers.
When I track the orbits of asteroids, comets, and planets,
Each one a pirouetting dancer in a cosmic ballet, choreographed by the forces of gravity,
I see beyond the plight of humans. I see a universe ever expanding
With its galaxies embedded within the ever-stretching, four-dimensional fabric of space and time.
However big our world is — in our hearts, our minds, in our out-sized atlases?
The universe is even bigger.
There are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on the world's beaches.
More stars in the universe than seconds of time that have passed since Earth formed.
More stars than words and sounds ever uttered by all humans who have ever lived.
The day we cease exploration of the cosmos is the day we threaten the continuance of our species.
In that bleak world, arms-bearing, resource-hungry people and nations
Would be prone to act on their low contracted prejudices,
And would have seen the last gasp of human enlightenment —
Until the rise of a visionary new culture once again embraces the cosmic perspective;
A perspective in which we are one, fitting neither above, nor below, but within."
~Neil deGrasse Tyson (Exist - Avenged Sevenfold).