Amazing Stories
Science Fiction, Weird Tales, Secrets of the Unknown and Time Travelling Paradoxes
Science Fiction. I grew up on it. Comic books, cheap paperbacks, television, and cinema. The first moon landings happened when I was eight. I couldn’t get enough of stories about adventures on other planets, and the hopeful future that we were all headed for. I loved the sense of morality contained within. The lessons on man’s inhumanity to man, that had Captain Kirk sadly shaking his head and Mister Spock raising an eyebrow. The gentle voice of the computer, Hal, as it apologises I’m Sorry Dave, I can’t do that. The Beautiful Blue Danube opening sequence from the same film. The Three Laws of Robotics. All memories that have lasted with me for a lifetime. Here are some Science fiction poems from contributors new and old to Sixty Odd. And one from myself.
Poems
To Be Human - Eileen Thompson Pitcher Plant - Dave Kurley The Time Traveller's Convention - Jason McBride Ain't Nobody Here - Milford Sprake The Engineer - Mike O'Brien Boat Trip - Dave Kurley Non Sequential Love Story - Jason McBride Beware the Crooked Billet - Kevin Walker Graham The Alien - Chivonne Head The Engineer - Mike O'Brien
To Be Human - Eileen Thompson
To cross the sundering seas To sail beyond the stars To boldly go And make it so Defines the human heart To live the myth at last To reach that final goal To break the bond And go beyond Consumes the human soul Eileen appeared in number 44 of Sixty Odd Poets. She enjoys genre fiction as a way of escaping from the world. <<<
Pitcher Plant - Dave Kurley
Nobody lives here The architect made the terrible mistake Of designing a courtyard That was so desperately, dangerously Beautiful So heartbreakingly irresistible That once in the midst Of this wonderful space You would never want to leave Sounds wonderful But the housewarming was a disaster Canapés ignored and unnibbled The Buck’s Fizz fell flat Like the conversation Just zombified guests, dressed to the nines Vacant staring, open-mouthed with pure pleasure No-one left that night And no-one ate, and after a few silent days The first guest collapsed in a Versace puddle And the paramedics didn’t fare much better The architect, muttering to himself ‘So beautiful…’ Locked himself in the cellar And was never seen again. Eventually, The army, equipped with blindfolds and mirrors (The press called them The Perseus Battalion) Stepped in and cleared the bodies Erected a powerful electric fence Red warning signs at strategic points And once in a while Some besotted fool Slings a rug over the wires Climbs over to meet an ecstatic end And of course The Perseus Battalion Steps in So, no Nobody lives here Dave is a recent addition to Sixty Odd Poets at number 75. He posts a new poem every day on Bluesky <<<
The Time Traveller’s Convention - Jason McBride
Jason publishes the excellent Weirdo Poetry on substack, where he blends haiku with his comic style artwork.
Ain’t Nobody Here - Milford Sprake
Doc “Chicken” Graham had teleported a thousand times before How could you be a man of influence in today’s galaxy If you weren’t prepared to teleport? But this time it felt different somehow. When the pressure seals released on the doors Allowing him to step out into the reception area There to greet him was an exact replica of himself Surrounded by more of him Perfect in every detail From the clipped moustache to the crocodile shoes And the small cosmetic mole on his right cheek Outside of the complex there were even more, A whole planetful to be exact “In fact...” Said the version of him who he sat with in the bar Over a high grain whisky synthetic “You can scour the whole of this parallel All the way to the event horizon and back… …Ain’t nobody here but us Chickens” Milford has never submitted anything anywhere ever before, but a love of Science Fiction inspired this piece. <<<
Boat Trip - Dave Kurley
The guide seemed friendly enough Despite his glassy-eyed, too-wide grin He beckoned, batrachian, from his boat Moored like an afterthought At the bitter end of the meandering quay The guide guaranteed a meal Maybe a spot of fishing And a tour of the non-touristy caves A welcome couple of hours away From the pitcher plant bars on the main drag Plus it was cheap So there were dolphins - slick and amazing But as we reached the other side Of the headland, the sun decided to hide Behind thick slate clouds And the cetaceans turned back Becalmed, we cast a couple of lines Provided by the guide, but all we caught Was seaweed - and silver things that Looked like fish, but cried like babies When we took them off the hooks They were warm to the touch When we threw them back in The glossy black paint ocean ‘Now for the caves,’ our guide grinned As the outboard coughed into asthmatic life The sea was silent as we entered No lapping wavelets against sandstone walls No sign of a roof and the arch Of the entrance seemed tiny already ‘What about lunch?’ We whined Turned out the guaranteed meal Was not for us. The guide grinned again His pallid moontan glowed like A watch dial in the squid ink blackness And his teeth. My God. His teeth. <<<
Non Sequential Love Story - Jason McBride
Beware the Crooked Billet - Kevin Walker
He’d passed his tests, he’d made the grade He’d got his just rewards First-class degree from Cambridge His future was assured He’d had his farewell party And took a little glass Maybe one too many As was his trait alas He’d had his farewell party And drunk with gusto, and vim He’d drank the Dean under t’table And wiped the floor with him The life and soul of the party As schooner followed pint-pot They toasted his bright new future The man who’d have the lot The life and soul of the party Though he flagged as the evening progressed A young man’s constitution Is delicate…. At best But that was last night, and today is today He was feeling more subdued In the cold harsh light of the morning He craved for solitude He cherished that hair of the dog But wanted to drink it alone To clear his thoughts, and re-set his mind He needed to be on his own Sometimes a man wants company To be with his fellow men But other times he wants solitude And just wants to sit by him sen He took a sip from his pint-pot As though he was drinking hot lead The curse of the morning after And the thunder that pounded his head He considered his bright future And his chosen a career in science Relativity and quantum physics Which made for a strange alliance He sat there alone, in a near-empty pub When a stranger entered the bar An old man approaching his eightieth year Who captured his eye from afar But the scholar wanted his solitude So he tried not to contact his eye But there was something familiar about this codger Something he couldn’t pass by The bar was nigh on empty So the scholar considered it rude When the codger sat down beside him When he wanted his solitude “Mind if I sit here?” he asked In a manner that wouldn’t take “no” And though the scholar was taken aback He couldn’t just ask him to go “I knew I’d find you here,” said the codger Removing his coat, as he sat A solemn insistence dulled his eye As he took off his scarf and his hat “I knew I’d find you here” he said “At this time, on this very morning” “Believe it or not, I’ve come from the future” “I’ve come back, to give you a warning” “I’ve come from the future” the old man said Without irony, in a tone so sincere “I’ve come back to give you a warning” he said “And I knew that I’d find you just here” Now the scholar was a man of science Quantum physics being his schtick He debunked time-travelling notions That were contra to common logic But he listened as the codger went on There was something about this old guy There was urgency in the way that he spoke And sincerity in his dull eye The old man’s hand shook as he sipped on his pint In an effort not to spill it Then he grabbed the scholars arm and said “Beware the Crooked Billet!” “Don’t go to the Crooked Billet” he said “Promise me… never go there” “Your future is bright, your future is set” “But I’ve come back to warn you… beware!!” “Take this key”… the old man said “Believe me… you’ll need it one day” “Always carry it with you” “It will save your life I dare say” The scholar debunked time travelling notions Which, as far as he was concerned Were physically impossible And contra to all that he’d learned Yet he sat in silence as the old man spoke Enthralled by his urgent tone And he listened to his hogwash and bunkum Though he’d much sooner sit on his own “You’ll meet many good people” the old man said “On most you can usually depend” “But I’ve come back to give you a warning” he said “Be careful just who you befriend” “Steer clear of the Crooked Billet!!” “For reasons which I cannot say” “Keep this key about your person” “Because you will need it one day In fifty years, when you’re old and tired You’ll know just what to do Come back to this time and place And give the key to the former you Kevin's humorous poetry appeared in number 33 of Sixty Odd Poets. He has recently brought out his latest book "Wazzocks" <<<
Graham The Alien - Chivonne Head
On a huge television screen atop the planet Mars Graham the alien was watching the earthling cat toying with an inflatable version of him. It clawed and chewed until a hiss of human breath, escaped from the large grey inflatable ostensibly life-size but not immortal, first a whistle, then a whisper, then nothing. All the wind taken out of him. he was fully deflated now, the cat didn't do it on purpose. the alien knew that. but his image was ruined. A silent outrage gnawed at Graham. There weren't any inflatable humans on Mars. He wanted revenge. He had an idea. With a flick of a switch he inserted something of his soul into the cat, and the cat coughed up a strange airborne virus. The cat's owner's son breathed it in. He sneezed. The name of the sneezing child was Elon. Chivonne featured as number 39 of the Sixty Odd Poets. She has since started her own substack full of knowledge and poetry <<<
The Engineer - Mike O’Brien
The ship was beset from every side Port, starboard and fore By enemies inhuman Whose cold hearts were set on war The captain knew he must retreat To fight another day So he ordered the ships engineer To get them on their way The engineer was a Scot A dour and doughty man His face was grim as he declared I dinnae think I can! “Cap’n the ship cannae take any more Powers doon by seventy percent The dilithium crystals Are near completely spent If I push her any harder She’ll be rent apart I’m sure Cap’n listen when I say She cannae take nae more” The Captain eyed the Engineer With stern unflinching eye “Warp five and that’s an order” “Aye Aye” came the reply “But I’ll need tae tak a little time Tae recalibrate the drive” “How long?” - “Six Hours” - “We don’t have hours! Just Minutes – you’ve got five.” The engineer was under stress His flesh was all a lather But the doughty hero set to work With what things he could gather He had ‘tae do his captains will By any ways or means He re-routed auxiliary power Through the ships baths and latrines He cooled down the condensing coil With frozen orange crush And re-energized the crystals With his phaser drive toothbrush Torpedoes were incoming as The warp drive was engaged In a microsecond they had gone Leaving their foes enraged The engineer wiped his brow The captain smiled and said I never doubted you, old friend And now full speed ahead There’s strange new worlds around us And we’ve five years to explore But he engineer’s voice quaked with fear “She cannae take nae more” “Cap’n The ship cannae take any more We’ve hardly had time to recover She needs gentle handling I dinnae how hard I can shove ‘er There’s warnings on my dials That I just cannae ignore Cap’n listen when I say She cannae take nae more” Mike wrote this for performance at a Burns night celebration some years ago. It has lain dormant in his memory banks ever since... Until now! <<<