Secrets – New Poetry by Lyle Bateman

Secrets
by Lyle Bateman 2008

 

secrets
burn deep
with white hot guilt
and volcanic anger
charring craters
in our soul

New Content at GAS – Arthur C. Clarke: The day the future died

Arthur C. Clarke - Dec 16, 1917 - Mar 19, 2008By Lyle Bateman
Contributing Writer, [GAS]

The golden age of science fiction” is a term used to describe a particularly fertile period in science fiction, when old conventions of “the space western” were challenged with new ideas, new themes, and new energy.

There are many names associated with that period—Heinlein Bradbury and Asimov, among others—but no name is more synonymous with that heady time in science fiction than Arthur C. Clarke. The death of Clarke, yesterday at his Sri Lanka home at the age of 90, almost closes that chapter of science-fiction history. With only Ray Bradbury left from the shiniest nuggets of the Golden Age, more than just writers are passing into history… the very ethic that created the world we live in today is slowing growing pale.

Read the rest of this entry at http://www.geeksaresexy.net/2008/03/19/arthur-c-clarke-the-day-the-future-died/

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood …

The Road Not Taken, written by Robert Frost in 1915, has always been one of my favorite pieces of poetry. I think I first read it in the 11th grade, around age 15 or 16, and ever since the words have resonated through me. I’ve always seen it as a wonderfully elegant analogy for memory and time, and for the passage of our lives, and I’m fairly certain thats the main point Frost was trying to make. The use of the image of a path through the woods is wonderfully evocative of the way we wander through life, and the choice of one path over another is a simple, elegant way to visualize the decisions we all have to make on our trip from birth to death. I’ve always tried to take the final stanza to heart, and when “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by.”

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When Childhood dies …

Its always disturbing to read of the death of someone that we have long admired, but its perhaps even more jarring to find out a person has been dead for some time and never having been aware of it. I’ve had an experience like that today, involving an author who figured very prominently in my young life.

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Other Lives … New poetry by Lyle Bateman

This is my latest poetic attempt. It started with the line “Flipping through the pages of life” and it evolved from there. I hope everyone likes it … as usual, comments are always welcome.

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Worms … new poetry by Lyle Bateman

This is fresh out of the goo … for some reason I had Pink Floyd and Nirvana in my head at the same time, and the following is what happened when I turned on the blender …

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Keys … new poetry by Lyle Bateman

Lost keys

Keys

Like a lost set of keys
I found God
after I’d stopped even looking

Walking through the garden
I kicked a stone
and He scurried out of the light