skonen_blades: (Default)
The sky screams
Twisting clouds into fingers to make claw marks
Raking the world’s yard
Scouring the floor
Scrubbing it clean
And rinsing it
Making it break out in arks

The surprising thing about humanity
Is that intelligence is not commensurate with compassion
And that stupidity and cruelty are likewise unrelated

So I can’t tell you what the flaw was
Not exactly
My suit of armor made of pointing fingers
Is great protection, though
I mean I like to think of myself as a penitent man
A dip and a swoon
A skyscraper with good heels
I have a bookmark in my pocket
So I don’t forget my place
But I have a sneaking suspicion
That the call is coming from inside the house

All I know is that

Up here
(At the top of the waterfall
Just before the roaring lip
The longest
easiest
oldest journey)

Up here
(Even with the terrifying momentum
And the shameful memories of how avoidable it was
And how the oars do nothing in this current
And how it’s a long way down)

Up here
The view is great



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skonen_blades: (Default)
I’ll give you walking tours of the grey-bottomed cumulonimbus clouds that come in before the storm.
I’ll give you walking tours of the bottom of the Marianas Trench
I’ll give you walking tours of that reality where that person made that different choice and everything changed
I’ll give you walking tours of a world that doesn’t have a word for purple because everything is purple

I’ll take you to a place in the dark where there’s nothing to fear
I’ll take you to an underground railroad that has no stops on the surface
I’ll take you to an untethered houseboat that has declared itself an independent roaming country
I’ll take you to a movie of your own life

I’ll show you the relative differential lubricant dimensions that onionskin between multiverses to keep them from burning when they rub against each other
I’ll show you the pause button for physics
I’ll show you the all-knowing God-helmet that is so happy to see you
I’ll show you the cutest dog in this or any other known universe but you can’t look directly at it because it’s classified as a weapon and I’ll have to wipe your memory afterwards if you do because you will never want to leave.

I’ll hold a party in your honor so you can bask
I’ll hold back the pressing issues so you can breathe
I’ll hold up the rain-soaked sky so you can dance
I’ll hold down the fort so you can travel

This is something I can do for you
These are some things I can do for you
That is something I want to do for you
Those are things I have done for you

And have done
And will do

For as long as I can



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skonen_blades: (Default)
Skating over the veneer of her self-esteem
A stewardess with no plane flying through the air
Scarf fluttering in the breeze
A standing air witch blasting silently and quickly
Through sunsets
In the stratosphere of the world
An upright witch
Hands clasped primly
Smile turned to full
Eyes watering
It gets cold up there
But she’s used to it
She’s cleared for landing
At every airport in the world
Sometimes, she touches down
Slowing
Until with a clattering of high heels
She clacks and sprints to a jog to a stop
And then strolls to the gate
Tucking hair back into place
Grabs a drink
Freshens up
Sleeps
Then walks out to the runway
In the right place
Clearance granted
Before running
To the end of the runway
And leaping up into the sky
Again
A blue domino
With an orange scarf
A flight attendant monolith
Circling the earth
By herself


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skonen_blades: (jabbadoubt)
I miss having Jupiter in the sky.

I know Earth is humanity's homeland and a pilgrimage to her is on everyone's bucket list along with seeing Olympus Mons, the Ganymede Borealis and Titan’s cryovolcanoes in person. However, I am underwhelmed.

This coffee shop is serving the purest coffee I’ve ever had. One sip of it has set my heart galloping and I feel like I’ll taste coffee for days. It would have cost a year’s salary back home on Europa. The unfiltered air here is stinky, layered, and confusing to my nose. Being outside without a faceshield makes me nervous on a bone-deep cultural level. The whole setup here seems oversaturated with smells and tastes. There's a complete lack of safety. People are walking around practically naked because there’s never been a violent, sudden decompression in their lives. It gives them all an air of terrifying naiveté.

Europa has no mountains. I should have gone to Earth’s prairies, I guess. Instead I’m in Switzerland, in what Terrans calls Europe. I just assumed that Europa and Europe would be similar. Rookie mistake, I guess.

“The food on Europa is bland. The coffee is weak. The air is boring.” That’s what I keep hearing from Earthers in passing. But to me, the air and food here seems unnecessarily complex. Designed to confuse and overwhelm. All native Earthers seem a little crazy to me with their bright eyes and their short attention spans. I think it’s the rich input of what they consume. Too many distractions.

But I guess they need it because the plain blue of the daytime sky makes me feel like this planet is unfinished. Like it's in a blue room. I have no perspective when I look up. It's unsettling.

'Jupiter watches' was our moon's Latin motto. The eye swinging around to monitor our lives, taking up so much of the sky. No interference but it was keeping a record. It was the basis of our religion. Here on Earth, it feels like no one’s watching.

Alone. That was it. The Earth felt alone.

One tiny pathetic moon haunting the night time while the Terran light pollution erased most of the stars and then the powerful sun bleaching out the entire universe during the day. No Jupiter hogging half of the sky, no family of moonlets, moons, and halfteroids peppering every afternoon, morning and sunset. No daytime ringstellations telling young lovers when to kiss or gamblers when they were at their luckiest.

Earth’s history had something called a sundial that stood out to me as a symbol of the tedium here. It was a flat, metal circle with a triangle set perpendicular to it, casting one single shadow to measure the march of time by tracking the one plain light traveling across the sky. Like a bare bulb in an empty room.

Earth and the moon had the simplicity of a hydrogen atom. A child's toy of a setup. A very basic protostructure of what a planetary microsystem could be. A blueprint sketch. A first step that had never been followed up on. I really didn't like the crushing monotony of it and I longed for the majesty and complexity of my home sky.

I could watch Jupiter's swirls forever, meditating on the storms. I remember reading that most people on Earth chose blue as their favorite colour. What a drab reminder of loneliness and simplicity. On Europa we had names for shades of orange, red, pink, and brown they didn't even have here.

I mean, I guess I'm glad I came and all but I can't wait to go back.



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skonen_blades: (heymac)
Trapped under a rock. That’s what it comes down to.

It’s a slightly higher-gravity planet. The sky is bright green and the ground around me is white gravel. I feel like all of those musicians from back in the nineteen-sixties would really enjoy it here with these strange colours.

I don’t think that they’d be too crazy about the war, though. The creatures that live here have said that their planet is not for sale. Not a great move on their part. Earth is hungry, as we’re taught in school, Earth needs food.

So I’m a soldier in an exoskeleton and there is a giant rock on my legs. The gravity here is a little higher than Earth Normal but it’s not that big of a deal. The rock on my legs is massive. It has to weigh the same amount as a galactic thruster. Tons of compressed sedimentary patience stares back at me when I look down at where my legs disappear below the knee.

The battle had caused a small avalanche. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. My fellow warriors who weren’t dead had retreated. My beacon and radio were damaged. They were probably still getting life signs back at the base but this battle had been lost. I was still in a hot zone.

I stare up a the emerald sky and it occurs to me that this kind of situation has been faced by many creatures over the billions of millennia. Trapped under a rock. From tiny spiders to buffalo, cavemen to dolphins, it’s happened at some point to every living thing.

They’ve breathed their last, hopefully half-amused at their predicament. I wonder if they thought the same thing.

I can see that my oxygen meter has six hours of air left. I haven’t seen any of the aliens poking around for survivors. Looks like I have some free time on my hands.

I’ll get to see the suns go down. Night time here is beautiful.




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