2015 Poem 7: Ode to an old telescope

What we have seen.
Carding the beams
as mice fell to the ground.
Artifacts found,
come-alongs to winch
when short by an inch
or as much as a meter.

Still, little was sweeter
than a stack that was tight
on a warm moonless night,
non-sidereal tracking
(a short time for slacking).
Skies that could not be clearer.

And multiple mirrors.

2015 Poetry Post 6: Begrudging a few bounces

If we consider
what they knew,
what we knew
back then,
it’s even more
impressive.

Our attention
was still on erotic pictures,
and steins
yet to be filled,
far from holmes
with no cares for
papers on plastic bags.

It sailed from a world
buzzing with PDAs,
sailing with majesty
and beefy instruments,
moving the way we liked.
And if it did not stick the landing,
after so many years,
surely we cannot begrudge
a few bounces.

2015 Poetry Post 5: Misconceptions

I may have grimaced
when the sophomore from Connecticut
asked me how many people
go to the moon every year.

"Zero" I said.
She was surprised and asked
why.
"Nixon."
was my only response.

I must have shook my head
When the macher from Johannesburg
asserted that nobody
had ever visited the moon.

"We certainly have" I responded.
"Why hasn't anyone gone back?"
He asked.
I've noted
 that I've asked that myself.

The conversation turned
to life and Mars
to elements and the stars
to comets and impacts
to mining and contracts

By the end
I know
we all were smiling.

2015 Poetry Post 4: An Excerpt from the "Tau Ceti Haggadah"

The problem arose
with the first Mars colonies
who fixed the festival
to Jerusalem time
and saw it precess
through the seasons
like Ramadan and Eid,

Things became pressing
during the Second Exodus.

Rabbi Izenberg argued
that time dilation
and speed uncertainties
required shipboard
commemoration untethered
from Earthbound calendars,
Rabbi Rhoden advocated
a new calendar for each system.

So began the Kochavim tradition
of eating simple foods
similar to ship’s rations
during the holiday.

Rabbi Wolven added
a sixth cup of wine
to the seder
for reasons
that are lost
to time.

2015 Poetry Post 3: The Sea Haunts the Camp

The sea haunts the camp.
We can turn our back
to it
and face
the churning
whirring
polyglot delights
and despairs
of the home we
know and love,
and resolve
to take on
its problems
and inequities.

But still we hear
the roar
of the sea
imploring
teasing
mocking us
to take to the water,
pick a direction,
and see
what else is out there

even if we know we cannot swim.

2015 Poem 2: FOMO

Somewhere a volcano is erupting
beneath the pastel glare of a giant planet,
Pele crying on a world
that only knows her kin
through projection.

Somewhere an anonymous
floating iceberg
feels the tug of a foreign star,
throwing it from
precarious balance
to meet its doom
in an echo of Icarus

Somewhere a hillside
sees the morning sun
for the first time since
the time of the Inca,
and nitrogen awakes
only to wander the surface
in search of a site
for further slumber.

All this and more in front of our eyes
How can I sleep and miss out?

2015 Poetry Post 1: Even Now

Even now,
with folders full
of half-finished tales
waiting for clear mind
and clear schedule
not clear sky,

even now,
when long-awaited
ships have sailed
to cheers,
yet still wearying
on our Sisyphean band,

even now,
worlds uncounted
ruddy and pale
remind me why
I came
and why I stay.