The following haiga was first published in Issue 19 “Insects” of Consilience:
Author: Dennis
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Haibun 2: Operation
The following haibun was first published in Issue #106, December 31, 2024, of Failed Haiku:
The nurse asks, “Do you have any metal in your body that wasn’t present at birth?”
Which is an odd question.
Those last five words don’t seem necessary. They imply that it’s possible for metal to be present in the body at birth or even before birth. Those five words further assert that, while metal in the body present after birth might complicate certain medical procedures or surgeries, metal present in the body at birth or before birth might be benign or even beneficial.
cyborg baby
suckling
power cords
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Haibun 1: The Birth of Venus
The following haibun was first published in Issue #106, December 31, 2024, of Failed Haiku:
My elementary school library, second grade: A group of boys were giggling in the corner, hunched over a book. The librarian came over and snatched it away. I caught a glimpse of the cover as she put it on the cart: the swirled, amber form of the planet Venus.
While I loved the library and the wonders contained within books, I’d never known the library to contain something so subversive, so dangerous. What could be within that book that made her take it away?
The next week, after the book was reshelved and forgotten, I found it. The book discussed Venus’ formation, climate, geology, and the mythology behind the name. Toward the front was a full-page image of Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus.” Now I knew what was so enchanting: I had never seen such curves before.
The novelty of the painting, though, was quickly replaced by the stunning, full-color photographs of the second planet from the sun. Such colors, such windswept clouds, such quiet elegance, the planet framed by black, starry space. That book engendered a fascination with the planets that continues to this day.
“Remove From Circulation”
mining banned book lists
for treasure
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Senryu 4
The following senryu was first published in Issue #106, December 31, 2024, of Failed Haiku:
carving our initials
in the pine tree
my chisel rusts overnight
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Visual Storytelling in Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze
Back in 2016, I used video capture equipment to make this video essay on the visual storytelling techniques used in the Wii-U game Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze. The DKC series has always been near to my heart, and Tropical Freeze is outstanding.
In this video, I document how the developers at Retro Studios tell story—not through elaborate cutscenes—but through in-game visuals. This essay reveals a lot of depth to the game that has been little discussed in other forums.
I always meant to follow up this video with other video essays, but life got busy, and I never returned to the hobby (I even recorded footage for the original Donkey Kong Country). Still, as a fan of Let’s Play videos, I was satisfied with what I was able to achieve in this video. Had Let’s Plays been a thing when I was in my 20s, I probably would’ve made more of these.
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55 Cancri e
The following poem was first published October 21, 2024 in Poets for Science. It’s about planet e, which orbits the star 55 Cancri, located in the constellation of Cancer. The planet is very close to its star, making it extremely hot. It’s also dense and full of carbon, meaning it might be a diamond planet. NASA has a lot of information about 55 Cancri e through their fictional Exoplanet Travel Bureau. They provide a guided tour and visualization of the surface.
The largest diamonds ever found,
deep within Earth’s ancient ground:
Cullinan, Millennium, Jubilee,
none can equal Cancri e
A diameter of twice the girth
and mass eight times the mass of Earth,
a gemstone radiant, sublime and
rare—the planet is one giant diamond
An orbit of just 18 hours,
around a sun that scorches, scours
hot enough for melting iron,
turning carbon into diamonds
Standing on that glassy gem,
the angels’ holy diadem,
every direction, stunning views
of diamonds of prismatic hues
Men, for gemstones, constant striving
cut in shapes bizarre, contriving
On her neck, no woman could wear
a diamond that’s beyond compare
No business man could sell this thing,
nor put it on a wedding ring
This jewel is not for us to own,
but the universe’s out on loan
Clouds of silicates are forming,
sparkling in the endless morning
Tidal-locked, its face aglow
molten diamonds down below
Cancri A, the blazing sun,
whose work will never be outdone
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
I gaze in wonder from afar
Nestled in the crab of Cancer
Cancri A, the stunning dancer
Visible to the naked eye
holding diamonds in the sky
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Kepler-138 c & d
The following poem was first published August 8, 2024 in Poets for Science. It’s about planets c and d, orbiting around the star Kepler-138. I have long been fascinated by exoplanets, that is, planets outside our Solar System. Because these planets are so far away, we know very little about them. Thus, I turn to the medium of poetry to imagine what these planets might be like.
Planets c and d are currently estimated to be worlds entirely covered with water.
A thousand miles of ocean deep
surround those iron cores
Tumultuous waves tossed back and forth,
an ever-present roar
Water is weird at depths profound,
the pressure so intense
Water shifts from gas to liquid
to something far more dense
Around the dwarf, not one but two
such planets orbit tight
Blue twins like eyes of Earth-like size
peer back into the night
Volcanoes erupt and travel up,
the ocean daily boils
Across such seas no ship could sail,
the surface rolls and roils
This pair of wombs, with countless moons:
what creatures have you birthed?
We’ll never know unless we hold
a ship in waters berthed
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Mercurial
The following poem was first published in the Summer 2024 edition of Altered Reality Magazine. It’s about a man living on the planet Mercury, trying to survive the extreme temperature oscillations. During the day, the surface temperature can reach 790 °F, while at night the temperature plummets to −270 °F. Interestingly, because of Mercury’s highly eccentric orbit, a solar day (the time it takes the sun to return to the same place in the sky) is two Mercury years long.
The first planet from the sun, spinning splendid, not outdone
by its neighbors orbiting in the solar sea
With temperatures most extreme, oscillating as its theme
from the scorching heights supreme to a darkness still and icy
From this world I cannot flee
From this madness never free
With no atmosphere to speak of, mercury rising, creatures sneak off
hiding from the soaring sun, searing blasted scree
Stretched across this barren plain, regolith gray and granite veins
a desert land where gravel reigns, absent the Almighty
Forget me not, Lord, this I plea
Save me for eternity
Temperatures are climbing higher in this heart of frost and fire
where a day lasts two long years by some strange decree
Where the sun sets once then twice, I’m trapped within this heated vise
my constant pining for some ice, I pray thee foolishly
The heat is boiling, naturally
But worse than cold? I disagree
The last of sunlight’s rays are gone, a year of coldness soon will dawn
I build a shelter, bundle up, then begin the long withdraw
A place of blackness with no moon, the stars across the sky are strewn
while I am bound to this cocoon, in a cave that’s bleak and blah
My teeth chatter, tight-set jaw
Jack Frost to my ears will gnaw
This cold sets in; it won’t let go. Around the campfire’s measly glow
to stay alive I take my leave and march my numb feet raw
So I start to weave and wander, while my sanity I ponder
I think I’ll backtrack over yonder, then I freeze in awe—
The sunlight breaks! Aha! Aha!
And so the ice begins to thaw
I can’t do this? Who’m I kidding? The stoic sun glares down, forbidding
I cover my face, give cry and chase, and fall on bended knee
Sunlight so white and burning bright, I plead for night: it isn’t right!
Please hear my plight, you ghostly fright! I beg you: can’t you see me?
The curtain closes on year three
This cycle will not let me be
The cold has come again, I say! I cannot last another day!
Seesaw, seesaw, mercurial beebaw! Deedaw, meemaw, gleebaw, streedaw!
I’m descending into madness, filled with overwhelming sadness
surrounded by this pointless badness, circling round and round
I strive across this cursed ground
where every rock is dull or brown
for in this prison I was bound
when my spaceship hunkered down
and I very nearly drowned
as my head was justly crowned
with fateful memories I found
of the grating, hating sound
of a mind which knows no bounds
but circles round and round and round
Hot then cold then hot again,
then cold then hot then cold and then…
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Venus
The following poem was first published in the Summer 2024 edition of Altered Reality Magazine. It’s about a Venusian girl who longs to go to space and visit Earth. The poem follows her life as she struggles to complete this goal while the planet is plagued with the runaway greenhouse effect. Since Venus’s day is longer than its year, the girl’s age is measured in days. The poem takes place hundreds of millions, if not billions, of years ago.
1 Day Old
A baby loved and doted on
mountains rise above the water
Sunhawks chase while teavers yawn
as this blue babe begins to totter
But the air is growing hotter,
shifting clouds of orange and tan
The scarlet sky calls to this daughter
reaching up her hand
8 Days Old
The news across the aerovision:
“The Wights have flown their whirling disc!”
In the face of mocking derision
it rises above the stifling mist
But to her parents this girl insists,
“I will one day fly these skies.”
Such ideas have weight and risk
to such weathered eyes
13 Days Old
With her telescope she sees
a planet painted purple and red
The Pritchett enters space with ease
as dreams of orbits flood her head
But the planet’s blue instead,
covered with continents of green
This mismatch brings a sudden dread
to this starstruck teen
19 Days Old
She writes on a desk of marble
in the hall of cosmic school
Over diagrams of stars she marvels
this knowledge her ambition fuels
But she stays inside—it’s cool
for the rivers are nearly boiling
A passing pattern plain and cruel
cannot stop her toiling
26 Days Old
Now she sits upon the launchpad,
watching numbers counting down
The latest spacesuit snugly clad
and helmet fitted to her crown
But smiles turn to frantic frowns
as the mission is aborted
Clouds too thick and dingy brown
smear the skies distorted
37 Days Old
Her telescope no longer sees
the sun, the stars, her destination
The planet with the water, trees
and the hope of new creation
But she still believes her nation
can resurrect the disc anew
Counteract the fear, frustration
and reach the distant blue
54 Days Old
The days are truly, exceptionally hot
society long torn asunder
by the torment weather wrought
atmosphere thick with thunder
But she’ll finally fix their blunder
The stolen disc breaks through the veil
into space, and oh! What wonder!
Begin the long exhale
Planet three in view,
her flight is true
Everything she thought she knew
can’t compare to
that endless blue
She hurtles through
air fresh and new
and bids ado
to hellish hues
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Pluto
The following poem was first published in the Summer 2024 edition of Altered Reality Magazine. It’s about the first man to visit Pluto, and the ensuing madness that comes from the incredible loneliness, darkness, and coldness of the dwarf planet. Upon landing, he creates his own mission and meaning, seeking out the moon Charon.
Pluto is way far out there,
like, far, far out there, man
Getting there requires careful thought,
ample courage, a foolish plan
Zipping past the asteroid belt,
leaving Earth behind
Nestled tightly in my craft,
my only friend my mind
Past Jupiter and Saturn,
wearing rings in style,
then on into the inky black,
my self-imposed exile
Then Uranus and Neptune,
those icy blue marbles
The Earth is now a mote of dust,
my thoughts and feelings garbled
Alone now in the open space,
those giant planets long gone
Pluto still so far away
just me in the starry pond
What point is there in flying this far,
billions of miles from home?
The only answer is deep within,
that restless spirit to roam
Pluto appears up ahead,
white and gray and red
The sun behind a pinprick of light,
momentary dread
My tiny craft passes through
a too thin atmosphere
As I step onto the ice,
my heart is filled with fear
No human beings or living things
for billions and billions of miles
If I give in to loneliness,
the god of death shall smile
I set across the broken plain,
scrambling over craters
My mission I set for myself,
to the human race, a traitor
The planet cannot warm itself,
the sun glows strangely dim
76 hours of day gives way
to 76 hours of night so grim
Sleep then wake then sleep then wake,
then sleep and wake once more
Each time the darkness still remains
while I search the untamed shore
The stars above my only guides
what patterns will I find?
What constellations can I create
inscribing arcs and lines?
Pluto’s tiny, tiny moons—
Kerberos, Nix, Hydra, and Styx—
might wander cross my field of vision,
faint irregular specks
My journey ends when I finally find
Charon, my new companion
I recline and peer above
at icy grooves and canyons
White and gray with a smattering of rust
upon the northern pole
My loneliness evaporates
as I reach my long-sought goal
Witnessing this lunar beauty
no one has seen before
Pluto’s face is locked with hers,
true love forevermore
Charon’s surface faintly lit
by lights bounced off his crown
Up I gaze and often wonder:
is anyone gazing down?