30 Hours

If I could stay up for 30 hours straight,

I'd like to float in outer space,

Around the revolving Earth below,

I'd watch the sunlight scatter into darkness,

Along the racing photon beams,

To star systems of fantasies,

Bounce off the mirror of a telescope,

Like falling rain into a bucket,

Of a crisp foggy spring morning

This poem is about: 


Bailey Reynolds

Wow that poem was epic and from one poet to another keep doing wat your doing Yu will go far.and if Yu ever want to collaborate just ask


Thank you so much for your kind words. This poem in particular was actually inspired by seeing a collection of science fiction film posters, and the thought popped in my head of watching all the films included in the posters, one right after another. Of course, watching ten science fiction epics, all about 3 hours each, equates to staying up for 30 hours straight. So if I could stay up for 30 hours straight, I would be lost in space for that amount of time. In thirty hours I'd experience the life stories of at least ten characters, I'd travel an inumerable distance across space and time. But each movie, no matter how profound, ends its life with the closing of the last scene. Every scene, every line, every frame, ended in the vibration of cochlear hairs in your ears, and the retinas of your eyes. It is comparable to the life of a photon from a distant star, traveling a vast distance, only to end its existence on the photo detector of a telescope.

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