Val M. Smith

This poem was inspired by one of my favorite science fiction authors, Robert A. Heinlein, and more directly, by his masterpiece, “Stranger in a Strange Land”. While essentially holding fast to the spirit of Heinlein’s novel, I’ve slightly rearranged, and mildly embellished the text to lovingly create this poem. Absent any available detailed descriptions from the author, these accompanying digital images are my interpretations. NOTE: Grok: to thoroughly understand something intuitively or empathically.


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Envoy Descends” by: rob kistner © 10/31/23

 

Valentine Michael Smith
was a most intelligent creature

a son
of deep space pioneers
he lived as an alien
on the far frontiers

his ancestry human
he was raised on mars
by planet natives

he looked human
but he was quite tall
and very slender

long arms
long legs

these anomalies
from being raised low-g’s

he thought and felt
quite martian

born traveling to mars
on the starship Envoy
and raised by martians
since orphaned as a boy
he’d never laid eyes
on another earthling
felt his identity circling


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Lyle Drive Launcher”
by: rob kistner © 10/31/23

brought to earth
by scientists
who knew not
how to grok

smith knew not
how not to grok
and quickly grokked
this madhouse planet
and the corrupt few
who ran it

therefore
he quickly and deeply
understood earth
and its suffering

so thoroughly in fact
it actually became his own
there seemed no buffering
it nearly drove him crazy

in heartfelt concern
val reached out
to spread enlightenment

for this he was despised
the reaction was violent

feared and hated
he was considered a bane
quite completely ungrokked
smith was sadly slain

his efforts futile
his death was brutal

he died as he lived
a stranger
in a strange land


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Valentine Michael Smith”
by: rob kistner © 10/31/23

*
rob kistner © 2023

Poetry at: d’verse

 

Lost In Azure


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Eyes Of Azure” by: rob kistner © 10/30/23

 

This day begins fresh and crisp
we sit by the morning window
with tea and curiosity

we talk

for this moment
our souls spill
one into the other
until I am distracted

your lips
continue sculpting words
but I’ve fallen
into your azure eyes

*
rob kistner © 2023

Poetry at: dVerse