Science Fiction Poetry

Science fiction and poetry may not be two literary labels you often see put together, but when combined they can create something out of this world.

Wikipedia defines science fiction poetry as version of speculative poetry, saying:

Speculative poetry is a genre of poetry that focusses on fantastic, science fictional and mythological themes. It is also known as science fiction poetry or fantastic poetry. It is distinguished from other poetic genres by being categorized by its subject matter, rather than by the poetry’s form.

We don’t often get to see science fiction poetry. What is its purpose: to tell a story in a minuscule space? To instill a feeling of space exploration and wonder in our hearts? To make us think about our future? Yes, and more. Because many of us never get to experience science fiction poetry I decided to search for a few modern poems and bring them to your eyes. Below is only a small sampling of what is out there. If you find enjoyment in the poems below please go searching for more. It’s a great way to feed your brain’s desire for wonder and get your scifi fix without having to read an entire novel.

Emu Girl, on the day before flying by Joanna Fay

I

Remember that night

last summer under the Milky Way?

‘Why’s it called milky?’ you asked.

‘Could have been snowy, sugar,

baking powder.’ It was hot enough

night after a scorcher, sky sun-bleached

parrot calls staccato’d into SOS.

The night a diamond fell

east of the moon

II

The brother twins fought bravely

when sky-birds came and broke the light

splattered like Pollock’s Lavender Mist

sparks dipped in suns dragged through coal-black

emu feathers, where Tchingal spread his

flightless wings and laid his beak to rest upon

the Southern Cross. Swallowed, the brothers

hunkered down, red and blue their thundering hearts

Hadar’s weight bore him to his knees

while Toliman sprouted fantastical scales, atonal

shadows toning the Pointers’ siren call until

their gate must open ultraviolet waveforms deep

subtonic scores, vestral lanterns strung across

Milky galactic sector four

The fleet’s burnished arcs shine red and pulse a single note

III

‘Did you know a tiny gland inside your brain

secretes rhodopsin, catches flashes of invisible light?

Pineal pea cradled in its grail, vestigial holy camera

spooling angel feathers through the Eye of Ra?’

A hawk’s shadow rolls over silvered grass, its call

runs down the hill, I touch your face

stars berth softly in your eyes

IV

4.2 light years from Earth, Proxima Centauri

floats, veiled to human eyes, though Hubble reveals

her pure diminished gold, while her Alpha-Beta brothers

hold Nan Men, the Southward Gate, their hoofs

fresh-shod await a tonal shift, celestial smithy

ablaze, sounds of snow, or milk, cascading

through the belly of the bird. Confederate ships

mass in horseshoe clusters, winking lights –

amber, golden, red – speak a language of the mind

and heated heart, their stare the orange iris

of emu’s eye, watching starlit interface

V

You notice clouds shift subtly into birds

wingtip pointers north to south

your mind’s eye rotates the globe, while I

consult old world stellaria, Deneb, glittering

blue-white giant, Swantail’s polar rudder

I trace the Northern Cross. Biosphere emissions

echo through hollow bones. ‘Are they coming?’

Your fingers brush strands of down

between my hair. Your smile is kind

VI

Centaurus. ‘Cen’, Classical Greek, conflation of kainos

(new) and koinos (common) – ‘taurus’, Latin bull –

Avian genomes quickened, new bulls multiplied

legs grew long and swift, tails streamed

on interstellar winds, scales hardened skin

vambraces wrapped their forearms, polished

reflecting light of brother suns, gaze turned upward

smoky feathers in their hair, hoofs pressed deep

they raced for young blue planets, thirsty

aeons they rode until swansongs

blossomed in their breasts. Do you

remember that night?

VII

‘Hold them like this.’ You cup my hands in yours

grail-like, or a horseshoe. I squint at the sun too bright

between the mounds of Kata Tjuta. Look up, love, higher.

Lights pulse red, long crescents, burnished

interstitial stars pierce Earth’s magnetic quilt

diving to this southern land.

I spread my arms

to steer them

home

Artwork by Wendy Van Camp

Cassandra by Wendy Van Camp

In the morning your ship will be sailing
Prepared by your father to whisk you safe
Watch the silicone city understanding
As the people flee the enemy in haste

Now that the last bloody day is dawning
You suffer your secrets within your heart
For none would listen to words of warning
O Cassandra, it is time to depart

Into the fair skies you rocket up
Away from the death you have forseen
In orbit, solar sails prepare to cup
waves of photon energy by machine

Sorry Cassandra, we did not believe
We only saw it as dreams you would weave

Sonnet by Wendy Van Camp

The Future of Science Fiction Poetry by chyfrin the Celtic Poet

Do you have any poems you wish to share?