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The Courage of Spacemen and Dinosaurs

By HiImRyan All Rights Reserved ©

Poetry

This is a poem it doesn't really have chapters.

When I was a kid I wanted to be a paleontologist.

I thought I was special because all the other little boys in my class wanted to be astronauts.

I was different, in a world of spacemen I was a triceratops.

I did not seek the fables of the future, rather I chased the legends of the past.

The perfect day in the mind of a child is walking into dad’s garage and finding a pterodactyl, but of course this dream could not exist in the world of the actual.

After all, where do get a Dinosaur Pilot’s license?

Do you need a permit for a stegosaurus? And if we sped by a cop on a t-rex, do you think he’d pursue or simply ignore us?

These were the questions that plagued my mind and I wanted answers.

I pressed my ear against the dirt to hear the soil tell me stories, tales of beasts in their former glory. A memoir of the unknown, a novel by those unshown.

“Reveal to me your secrets, oh tomb of many layers! Tell me of the plays put on on this stage, and let me meet the players!” I begged the Earth for information but all I got was silence and frustration.

So I dug.

I was determined to quench my thirst for knowledge, to drink from the cup of truth. To get my fill.

If the dirt wouldn’t answer me, perhaps the rock below it will.

But when I reached that rock, no secrets were found. I did however dig enough to fit my head into the ground.

I dug all that day.

I was an ostrich on a mission, my head in a hole. The Sherlock Holmes of my backyard, or a determined star-nosed mole.

I never found any dinosaur bones. Eventually night fell, my failure was cemented, and I returned each grain of dirt to their respective homes.

It wasn’t until much later that I would realize you can’t find satisfaction with your head in the sand.

My early life flew by, without my participation because I was too shy.

I lived in a hole, sheltered from the night sky.

But when I finally emerged I was in awe. It was the most magnificent and most terrifying thing I ever saw.

From then on, I decided I didn’t want to be a Paleontologist, I wanted to be an astronaut.

I wanted to experience and explore, to search and discover, to boldly go where no man had gone before. But the universe of Arizona is hard to explore when you don’t have your license or a car, so I decided until I was old enough, I would simply observe from afar.

With nowhere to go, I was a pterodactyl in a tar-pit, an astronaut with no rocket.

Freedom came in the form of a 2000 Nissan X-Terra, a dinosaur in it’s own right. Old as she was, she provided me with a new light. A beacon of hope for a fantastic future, a brilliant surgeon...but with no suture.

A car was not the only thing stopping me from experiencing true freedom.

The downfall of all wallflowers is fear. A hole in the ground is not the place to raise a pioneer.

An adventurer’s soul in a worm’s body, a living brain in a poor zombie.

I had no drive, though my car worked fine. I had big dreams, but so little time.

The decision was made my soul I’d embark and I worked up the nerve to take my Nissan out of park.

The trick with courage is that is it just another version of fear.

Courage is the lump in your throat before you take that chance.

It is the pit in your stomach that forms when you take a stance.

Fear is a pinch, but courage is a punch in the jaw. They are a perpetual seesaw of emotion that force you to move, to embrace the flaw. To change and grow is to have courage. Courage is new and frightening, it’s shouting at the rain and chasing the lightning. To live and be is to strap yourself in your shiny brand new rocket and take off even though you’re certain you’ll fail to launch. And like I said, you don’t find satisfaction with your head in the sand, you find it when you reach the moon and have the balls to land.

Life doesn’t stop moving, so neither do I.

So pass the blunt and head towards Mars.

Send your rocket careening towards the stars.

Because the past is already written, but we are the future’s authors.

But you’re going to get blindsided by an asteroid, sent spinning wildly into the void, the one thing you had to avoid, but don’t get paranoid because your ship’s destroyed, don’t get a hemorrhoid cause you lost what you enjoyed, just hold on to that polaroid, that’s the only history you need. Because you’ve got a jetpack.

And space is a vacuum, which means it can suck. Your life often hinges on pure dumb luck.

It’s like getting hit by an ice cream truck, cause it hurts like hell but it’s so damn sweet.

Don’t get starstruck.

Because hesitation means death, yet timing is everything.

When you’re stuck spinning in the void, everything moves too fast.

It’s impossible to get a grip on anything that will last.

And you may cry when the last satellites pass, your fate is sealed, the die are cast.

But remember one thing.

An orbit is a circle, and things come around, so don’t let yourself miss a chance cause your head’s underground.

There are suns and moons yet to be found, and thousands and thousands of spaceships surround.

Hop on one and get starbound.

You’re a cosmic newborn on a vast, unexplored playground.

The orbit of the Earth is just a big merry-go-round.

And the universe is made up of hometowns and touchdowns, campgrounds and shantytowns.

You’ll see things that will leave you spellbound, but be ready for the comedown, and prepare for when you meltdown cause this world is a battleground and the fight doesn’t stop at sundown.

The reason there are so many blank pages in the back of history textbooks is so that we have room to write what comes next.

So grab your pen and get to creating. There is no time to play around debating, no dictating or berating, no dominating or detonating, because this world can be so frustrating but it will never stop rotating and it will never start waiting.

And while we’re busy masturbating there are others who are graduating.

The world keeps turning and time goes on, progress is unhesitating.

Don’t be a triceratops in a world of astronauts. Be a space-paleontologist, and start excavating.

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Robin Olsen: An excellent description of the online experience written as poetry. Well written poem ... very much relates.

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ChethanaRM: I love this story so much! It is wonderfully written and the characters are perfectly portrayed!

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