Posted by: iansales | February 21, 2010

r.g.b mars

Mars is red and named for the god of war,
where red sands sweep like scythes across red plains,
from the cliffs of Mons Olympus to the shore
of Planum Boreum: lifeless terrains
of spirit and opportunity – yet
where no explorer has set booted foot,
trod Syrtis Major, climbed Tharsis Montes…
their name writ in red sand and history book.

Mars is blue – chaoses and mensae tamed;
rivers run through Noctis Labyrinthus,
Valles Marineris lives up to its name.
Twin to Earth, the blue planet; high Tharsis
home to new towns of new martians – some sent
willingly, some are transportees, and some
remember differently, their minds bent
in machines, implanting reasons to come.

Mars is green and as fecund as the earth;
intellects vast and cool scrutinize us
no longer with their green-eyed gaze, our birth
world is no prize, no incandescent gas
jetting across space. Perhaps the hungry
billions of earth now hunger from afar
with envious eyes; keenly and closely
they make their plans to conquer the green star.



  1. Time to produce a chapbook–electronic or dead tree edition–of these little jewels, Monsieur Sales, shiny against the cool, blank backdrop of space. And now fantasy (“Helm’s Deep”) falls into your crosshairs.

    Allusive, elliptical, nostalgic, dreamy…scientific equations will never capture the grandeur of Mars; and other alien worlds, untouched by human hands, call to us across oceans that make mockery our sea-going ancestors. Not to be conquered…but to mystify and fire our imaginations; if God is dead than the heavens need not deny us…

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