uncommon pack of coyotes
stalk the purple snow
approach the house
tease the shepherd within
eat his food
but eye the deer
browsing on the hill
still but seen
yip and howl
the coyotes race
go for the neck
not this time
but the opportunity
is repeating
Author: Georgia Tell
Poem #221
perfect synchronization
metal hits metal
tens of millions of times
fifteen thousand a minute
a level of pure mechanization
that no human could achieve
precision and redundancy
it’s a grand symphony
that echoes a cacophony
all in a shell the size of a truck
it produces almost nonstop
and unravels the scribbles in my mind
The Golden Record: Find Us Among the Stars
Forty years ago, NASA sent out Voyagers 1 and 2 to study the Solar System. In 2012, Voyager 1 reached interstellar space — the first human-made anything to do so. Both voyagers were carrying the Golden Record — this amazing phonograph made in the span of five months to represent Earth to any extraterrestrial beings that might intercept them as they travel space.
Yesterday, I went a panel discussion at CalTech with Ann Druyan, Reggie Watts, Lynda Obst, David Pescovitz and Ed Stone. They talked about the content on the Golden Record and some of the stories behind particular inclusions. They sent pictures, music, names, sounds, “hello” in many languages and some whale language as well. Ann and Lynda (who I don’t believe was on the committee choosing these works for the Golden Record) were particularly fantastic at expressing how much this responsibility and privilege affected them.
Just the idea of trying to encapsulate humanity strikes my mind with wonder. How would I choose those 115 images (storage capabilities in the 1970s were nothing like they are today)? The enormity of it must have made them quiet with awe.
Even further than that, I imagine these aliens finding our technological remnant one day, and I want to know how they would interpret us. Would they like us? Would they think we’re primitive? Would they want to come to Earth (if at all possible)?
Most of all, it makes me want to write sci-fi, so I can craft an experience that encompasses the adventure and hope and wonder that space exploration might hold. Lately, I’ve been mostly writing fantasy novels, but I might want to crack my knuckles and try something new.
Just stare at the sky, imagine and write.
I’m so invigorated.
Poem #220
kaleidoscope thoughts
converging trains
chaos that’s beautiful
Poem #219
the sun is my lover
I call her sunshine
I admire her all day
I’m among the many
but when night comes
she leaves the sky
to be with me
her touch is pure warmth
I find it hard to look at her
she’s beautiful and bright
her skin radiates
her eyes glow
her laugh bubbles
my head floats about her
my lips press against hers
my skin tingles
we laugh through the night
and she shines for me
but in the morning always
she dutifully shines for the world
and that makes her lovelier
Poem #218
be direct
be tactless
hurt won’t last
nearly as long
Poem #217
we keep doing the things we want
until we don’t want to anymore
Poem #216
the lizard pumped up from the ground
he was a tough lizard like the others
but the human child caught him
with a simple piece of long grass
created a loop for his neck
the human child cradled him gently
he attempted to bite the human child
he was let go twenty minutes later
in a place far from his favorite rock
he didn’t feel so tough anymore
Poem #215
I’m not sure about it
I’m aware of possibilities
but I don’t assume truth
I’d be embarrassed if I did
any of them could be true
regardless of what I want
Poem #214
grip the table
feel the muscle
in the core
splay out
be vulnerable
on the floor
take control
experience power
in weakness
