Al Bean

Al Bean left NASA
to paint
with an unconventional palette

heat shield particles
and Moon dust
and Command Module gold
mixed in with

the ordinary colours
of Earth

From the blog of Tychogirl, who specialises in Astro-poetry,

https://tychogirl.wordpress.com/2019/04/07/al-bean/

 

bean

Space is My Mistress

Space is my Mistress,
and she beckons my return.
Since our departure I think of you
and yearn to fly across the heavens arm in arm.
I marvel at your figure,
defined by the edges of continents.
You gaze at me with turquoise eyes,
perhaps mistaken for ocean atolls.
You tease me to fall into your bosom,
sculptured by tectonic rifts,
only to move away as if playing some tantalizing game.
Time and time we turn together,
through day, and night, and day,
repeating encounters every 90 minutes with a freshness,
as if we have never seen our faces before.
We stroll outside together,
enveloped by naked cosmos,
filled with desire to be one.
So close,
you sense my every breath,
which masks your stare through visor haze.
We dance on the swirls of cloud tops,
while skirting the islands of blue.
You know my heart beats fast for you.
Oh, Space is my mistress,
and when our orbits coincide,
we will once again make streaks of aurora across the sky.

Don Petit, 2012

https://blogs.nasa.gov/letters/2012/04/03/post_1333488927595/

don petit

Halfway to Pluto

I’m halfway to Pluto and Earth doesn’t know
The trials of travel in space as we go

With thrust to our backs while we speed on our way
The blue dot of Earth becomes fainter each day

When earthly horizons slip from your view
The color of loneliness changes its hue

And a radio call to our mission control
Takes nearly a day to just say hello

Yet our boss back on Earth abstract from our flight
Has no understanding of our minds in this plight

The Siren’s of Space singing songs for our souls
Try to tempt us to ruin on the reef of black holes

The singing of songs in space is a dream
For better or worse, you can’t hear a scream

Over eyes with wax patches, we resist Siren’s call
Thus avoiding the reef and escaping the fall

Our families back home make do while we’re gone
With or without us their life does go on

For the future of Earth and the human race
The final frontier we seek will be space

Our minds thus expand into places unknown
I’m halfway to Pluto but never alone

Don Pettit
Node 2, Deck 5
ISS, LEO

Originally posted on NASA blog 24 March 2012, reposted 9 July 2015, five days before NASA’s New Horizon spacecraft made its closest approach to Pluto.

Last Day in Space

Last Day in Space

Tomorrow we light our rocket,
we burn our engines and likewise,
burn a hole in the sky,
And thus fall toEarth.
How does one spend your last day in space?
Looking at Earth,
a blue jewel surrounded by inky blackness,
Pure Occipital Ecstasy.
Unconstrained by your girth,
you fly with vestigial wings.
The atmosphere on edge,
iridescent blue with no earthly parallel,
Electrifying Diaphanous Beauty.
Guarded by Sirens of Space,
singing saccharine songs,
beckoning you to crash on the atmos-reef
which tears you limb from limb
andscorching what remains
into cosmic croutons that sprinkle onto
the garden salad of Earth.
One last feast out the window,
A looking glass of Wonderland.
Offering both a portal to see your world,
and a translucent reflection to see yourself.
Contemplation;
what is your place in this worldbelow,
how do you change it,
how does it change you.
We are wedded to this planet,
until mass extinction we do part.
Perhaps one planet is not enough.
You study your charts,
we prepare our spaceship,
and our minds.
We make ready our descent,
into these seemingly gentle arms.
The eager anticipation of hugging your wife,
your boys with grins followed by pouting faces,
both excited to see you but not understanding why you left.
Oh how does one spend your last day in Space.
What would you do?

Don Pettit
Node 2, Deck 5
ISS, LEO 51.603

 

Originally blogged at https://blogs.nasa.gov/letters/2012/06/

don petit