Red Planet

Sunrise, leaching puccoon afterglow
dust swirls in eternal eddies
echoing emptiness.
Bleached bare russet rocks
concealing lack of warmth.
Jagged panorama unfolds,
the planet tilts – again.
Parched beyond water
arid memory preserved
silicon grains pulverized existence.
Continental cyclones span stratosphere,
gravity clings feeble aged hand.
Barren landscape bruised
without artist to appreciate.
Weary light fails canyon depths
perpetual darkness remains.
Scorched soil drifts purposeless
powdering skeleton at rest,
leviathan of ancient legend.
Cold claret rays brush rusted carcass
soulless breeze lifts dirt laden skirt
lettering long forgotten
β€˜made in China’ it read.


21 responses to “Red Planet

  1. I don’t know whether to applaud or give you a raspberry! The language is so beautifully majestic and thrilling..I am there, lonely, ruing the day I landed. And then you pull the rug out from under…you funster, you!!! “made in China” Funster, perhaps, but dark..Language is exquisite!!!

  2. Agreed with Jackie whole heartedly. I might add, a touch dark with post apocalyptic undertones. I love “made in China” to nail it. Very well done Abi! πŸ™‚

  3. Very dramatic and beautiful description of devastation with plastic tongue in cheek intact. Very cleverly crafted poem, Abi.

  4. Your words are so descriptive they almost bely the message revealed at the end. You could be talking about Mar, or any other desolate red ball of rock and moving the reader but, once your meaning is reavealed it couldn’t be any other way. I love the flow of your language and I had to look up one of your words, which is always a plus. Very powerful!

  5. This is futuristic but so sombre, Abi. You’ve gone one step further than Lou’s “Whale Song”, you’ve actually brought an end to the world! Another siren warning to humanity, as if we should need one; but, yes, we do need one and many more warnings. As for ‘Made in China’, I find that a little sad; don’t know why, no offence to the Chinese; guess I would rather prefer to think it might be a dust covered old copy of Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ or Brooke’s ‘Old Vicarage, Granchester’… puts our lives in perspective. Thanks Abi.

  6. I think the “made in China” is a perfect capsule to contain this material world we created for ourselves. It cannot last even if it can’t decompose. Loved this.

  7. Really enjoyed the write. Great use of language to push the idea forward, wonderful twisting throughout. And you used Leviathan, another of my favorite words. Thanks for the read

  8. What this reminds me of is an elderly lady who had been visiting her cottage in Georgian Bay for seventy years. Well into her nineties she still ruled her court each Summer, even though many had passed away.

  9. Reminded me of the original Planet of the Apes moment when our hero sees the ruined Statue of Liberty and realizes he is on earth after the nuclear war. I have wondered if Mars might have been our original home, and as we destroyed it, we reached out to earth for a second chance. Which we now have totally blown.

    And where do you get a word like “puccoon”? Looked it up and get your meaning, but have never understood the impulse of many poets to obscure meaning with such words. Does someone teach that every poem needs at least one word the average reader will have to look up? Is this word in common use? Would most people know this? Women often seem to have bigger color vocabularies than men, but I don’t recall this one being in even the biggest Crayon box… LOL

    • Charles,

      Firstly, thank you for taking the time to read and comment πŸ™‚ I too think of Planet of the apes when reading it.

      Secondly, feel free to read through both this and my previous 2 poetry blogs on blogger, you will find my use of unusual words is not at all a requirement of my poetry.

      I found puccoon via ‘google’ as I wanted descriptions of dark red colouring. I liked the sound it made read aloud and the colour it described fitted my poem… there you have it.

      But seriously, thanks I think πŸ˜‰

  10. Interesting picture painted of a deserted planet–and the twilight zone moment when we find out it’s our own.

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