Realms
This is for the genre known especially for creating worlds that might be possible—for good or bad
Dear Science Fiction,
You have offered me realms
From the ink of the writer
And the director who helms
The star fighter.
From 1984 to 2001 you’ve shown
The possibilities in wonder
You’ve pointed out the unknown
Even in cheezy flicks that blunder.
There is more imagination packed in books
Than can fill up the universe and shows
That illustrates twists, turns and hooks.
You have always taken blows.
Derided and written off as smut,
You’ve been able to weather the hate.
When eyes would just shut
You still showed that money was your mate.
You’ve generated billions based on space.
The operas and the game boards
Combined to make a place
For the eerie music including the chords.
With deepest admiration,
An SF supporter
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
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Smartystan
Breath issued from Angelica’s mouth. The weight of the baby put her into her chair. Her curves managed to say she had not been with child the whole time. There seemed to be a fantastic ideal swimming somewhere in her mind about the hazards of caring for two. She grabbed a magazine and fanned herself, knowing that she expended more energy in that effort sitting still and letting the air conditioning do the job. No, she told herself, without struggle there is no triumph. She switched on the television set. The picture looked as people had been replaced by blue aliens and she just watched her soap opera, void of extraterrestrials for this time.
By Skyler SaundersExclusive • 22 minutes ago
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