Sunday, April 6, 2014

The Alien

a sci fi poem
by Christine Fojas

When the stars are spread like an open map
to a traveller with ties that hold him back
on a ship that leaks a little--

when the ocean is the endless black
and the letters home compete
with the speed of light,

blinks like pale blue dots
transmit, transmit, receive--
the words of longing dance and weave

I go and go and sail and fly
and delve deeper into the thousandth sky,
alien earth shaped by an alien shore.

Here is the new horizon.
Here I may have less but I can be more.
Here I unfurl the length

of a too-large dream.
Unveil my love for a freedom
I have to steal.

Skin marks us apart, and blood, and bone.
And more than that, my strange ways
in this new home.

I am alien to myself, my new songs
ring hollow, my voice
wavers in the air.

What realm can hold me?
And how do I find kin there?

---
I started with the last two lines, hoping to answer them, but I'm not ready to do that yet I suppose. Also, I've been reading a series about space pilots so that's where this poem came from...

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