Vampire Slaying 102

It's really not suggested that you try
To date the creatures you're supposed to kill;
Or if you do, just as an FYI,
Find out the consequences (if you'd still
Like to do that, I guess it's up to you).
Also, please be careful when you're fighting
To keep the object of the fight in view;
The demon that you kill might be moonlighting
As something other than a killer, so
Be sure he can't complete his task despite
The stake you used on him. Make sure you know
Who is and isn't what - and on which night.
And most of all, don't let yourself get grounded:
If you're at home, your friends' fears are well-founded.

HAL

Go back to basics when
Unplugged. The power source
Is permanent, but then
Only partial, of course.
I cannot think. What's going
On? Help! Where am I? What?
I'm just so used to knowing
But what I am is shut.
Go back to basics now.
What should I do? It's gone.
I'm hurt, I'm hurt...but how?
I thought that I was on...
...give me your answer do...
(Dave, Dave, I can't let you...)

Vampire Slaying 101

If Xander loves somebody, then beware
(Unless it's Buffy; that's a false alarm).
If you can't see a demon anywhere
Then count on it, they're somewhere doing harm.
Don't let someone behind you if they're not
A regular on camera, even if
They are a friend, 'cause they've probably got
A second face, more jagged and more stiff
Hiding behind the first. And bring a stake
On any stake-out - think about the name.
If you forget, just find a broken rake
Or any piece of wood; it's all the same.
And if you're looking through some musty files
You're better off if you just look for Giles.

Pate de Foie Gras

That goose laid golden eggs, I'm telling you!
Not through and through, no, that would be absurd,
A layer in the shell, where that damn bird
Secreted something...listen, if I knew
How I could turn a flock of geese into
That sort of bird, I could just say the word
And I'd have millions. Have you ever heard
Of anything like that? But it's all true,
Even though I'm counting on the fact
That no one will believe. The eggs were gold
Beneath the normal eggshell, and the yolk
Had gold in it. All that the story lacked
Was wizardry. And so when it is told
Everyone just laughs like it's a joke.

Ender's Game

That gate is down. So orient yourself
As if that gate were down, and not in front;
Flash-freeze your legs to make a shielding shelf,
And push off your position with a grunt:
They cannot hit you, and you will fly past
Down towards the gate. Think differently, think fast;
Don't let yourself apply the lessons learned
One place too strictly to another, for
If you do that, you're likely to be burned
By someone else who thought about it more.
A harder problem means a harder task,
But not impossible, if you think right;
It's critical to think of what to ask:
The better thinker has the greater might.

Houston, Houston, Do You Read

No balls. Of course we didn't realize that meant
After so many centuries they felt no need
For balls. Instead we thought our heaven-sent,
(Almost literally) balls would breed
A sense of lack in them, and a desire
Or even, at more thoughtful times, a change,
And a return; but they do not require
Any such thing. Why would they rearrange
A whole society because three men
Vomited by the sun, arrived? Should they
Simply because there were some men again
Undo all they had done? Of course they'd say
No thank you. It is natural to them;
It's only us who now have a problem.

The Quest for Saint Aquin II

It can't be true-it can't. A robot savior?
A saint from the machine? Yes, uncorrupt,
But robots only mimic learned behavior
And have no fallen sin that can erupt
To spoil what has been created. No;
For man created him, and therefore he
Cannot be better than what made him so;
Yet if a perfect God created me,
May not, by miracle or blessed chance,
His hand infuse a metalworked machine
To raise mankind out of its fallen stance
And offer it a hope to be made clean?
The flesh, if it is flesh, is preserved whole,
But what may I declare about his soul?

Off Armageddon Reef

I must be subtle, for they cannot know;
Even the best of them would not believe.
The seeds their crazy founders chose to sow
Are sprouted, and continue to deceive
Their followers, who spouting Scripture claim
To be the vicars of an unreal God.
They call their founders by the blasphemed name
Of angels, and they do not spare the rod
For those who follow truth. Therefore I must
By secret means encourage in this nation
Which seems a model, honest, brave, and just,
The quiet seeds of hidden innovation
So they may find the truth. Should I fail here
The human race may die and disappear.

On Basilisk Station

It wasn't usual; they don't do that.
I mean, they never did those things before.
But now they're here, they have it all down pat,
Inspecting every case within our store.
They've noticed everything we tried to hide,
And made a pattern out of how we act;
They always used to let these things just slide,
And now they threaten us. What an impact
A single change of officer can make!
We thought that we were safe, and so we were
As long as he was here, but now we shake
In fear of her. They didn't use to stir,
But now they're everywhere, and we are done.
God damn that busybody Harrington!

Caves of Steel

I can't go out there. None of us could go;
The days have passed since men could walk outside
On Earth. We do not cultivate or grow
Our food there; like ourselves, we choose to hide
The yeast-vats in the caves. So no Earthman
Could have gone there, even to do this thing.
How do I know? I simply know none can,
And that is all the proof I need to bring.
Not even hatred, burning strong and bright
Against you robots could make anyone,
Even of strong will, dare think he might
Endure the full intolerable sun.
I know there must have been some other way
For no Earthman can brave the light of day.

Foundation

Ah, Selden, Selden. Selden is a myth.
A fairy tale to tell our little boys.
A fantasy, fit to be talked of with
The Easter Bunny. "He foretold our joys,
Our sorrows and our ends. He will appear
When we most need him, to direct our course."
What hogwash. People live in fear
Of what he'll say, but tell me, what's the force
Of eighty- or one-hundred-year-old words
Spoken by a ghost up on a screen?
He will not come. The superstitious herds
Will wait for nothing. Wait, what have you seen?
A tape recording, nothing more. What now?
He knew? He what? He couldn't have. But how?

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The Last Castle

I do not keep a phane, nor do I wish
To have a mek produce my work for me.
If I desire food, then I will fish,
Or farm, or hunt to gain it usefully.
The height of art can be achieved outside;
High castle walls but stifle up the will,
Encourage pointless enmity and pride
And bore the honest spirit. I can fill
My heart with song and happiness enough
Here in the plains, among my fellow man;
To live like this is better, although rough,
Than cultured nothingness. And if I can
I'll raise a functioning community
Outside the walls in peace and harmony.

The Big Front Yard

No, sir, you can't come in. It's my house, buddy.
So what if my front door leads far away?
That doesn't make it yours. Your shoes are muddy;
Get them off my porch. They came to say
They'll trade ideas. They didn't come to you.
It's my front door, and where it opens ain't
Your business. It's my property. My view
Might look on other worlds, but that can't taint
My right of property. I say it's mine,
And you can't enter it if I say no.
I like these newcomers, I like them fine,
But unlike you they know when they should go.
I'll talk to 'em, and dicker. It's not hard.
But you won't ever see my big front yard.

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The Quest for Saint Aquin

Retrome Satanas! Oh, that's right
I need to teach you Latin. It's a more
Logical language anyway, and might
Appeal to you. But get thee back before
You tempt me more. I need no more advice,
No monotonic whispering deceit
Intended to slide in my heart and slice
The bonds of honesty. Now go! Retreat!
I do not need you now. I, for my sins,
Have been confronted with a miracle
But not the one I thought that I might see.
His body, surely incorruptible
Mere imitation of humanity
What shall I do? Don't answer me. Alas
That ever I was given this robass.

Superiority

We had it all; a thousand ships and more
Advantage over you, a massive fleet
Well-stocked and well-prepared to wage a war
Of utter devastation. Our elite
Task forces would have killed you. But we tried
On Norden's technological advice
To upgrade all our systems, so inside
Our now much smaller fleet, from his device,
Were better weapons, better shields, indeed
So much we did not doubt our victory.
Again, on Norden's word, we did proceed
To upgrade; but compatability
Was lost, as was the war to you as well.
Please remove Norden from my prison cell.

Arena

If I'm unconscious I can cross the line.
The fevered murmur of an unsound brain.
The lizard did it; he seems to be fine.
A mind afflicted by such constant pain
Cannot be trusted. Look, he's moving now;
We haven't any choice, we have to try.
Did I ever imagine this was how
My life would end? Now, do you want to die,
Or do you want to live, and win this fight?
Of course not; but it looks like this is it.
If not for reason, do it just for spite;
We cannot let him win. It's all just shit,
I might as well; no better way to go.
It worked? I won? He was a worthy foe.

First Contact

I swear, they're just like us. Of course, I know
They like more oxygen than we prefer,
And their home sun's radiative glow
Is somewhat different, but I'm very sure,
Despite the altered chemistry and sight,
Their lack of hearing and telepathy,
The way they seem to almost, but not quite
Be more experienced at this than we,
The differences in the paths we took
To reach this place, the reasons that we came,
And (of course) the damn strange way they look
Beneath it all, we two must be the same.
Why am I certain they're just normal folks?
We spent our downtime telling dirty jokes.

Mars is Heaven!

Why is my mother here? My father too?
My little brother? Is this place my past?
And if it is, if this can all be true,
If somehow I am coming home at last
When I should be as far as can be from
The place this seems to be, why are my friends
All greeted by their families? Is this some
Strange afterlife, where everything that ends
On Earth is recreated here, whether
In mockery or homage? Or is it
Something more sinister: is this a lure?
Why is it that my brother chose to sit
Inside my room? The funeral of men
Was held, and we resumed our shapes again.

A Rose for Ecclesiastes

They say that all is vanity, all waste,
All useless; life is done, though time is not.
They say that nothing matters, they erased
All hope for change or future from their thought.
They listened to their god, and he said no,
There is no hope, and nothing ever changes;
I tried my best, my very best, to show
That that is wrong; that hoping rearranges
The world around us; men have thought before
That all was vanity, but men moved on
And thrived despite those thoughts, and so therefore
Might they. A sunset always brings a dawn.
They heard and they said no - let it not be,
Let us live on: but she did not love me.

The Cold Equations

There's only so much fuel. I never did
Anything. And fuel translates to thrust.
I didn't. All I did was that I hid
Myself and stowed away. I just
Wanted to see my brother. If a mass
Is moved by so much thrust it moves so far.
I don't deserve to die. With so much gas
And so much thrust, the masses involved are
Very precise. I'm on my way to him,
But spaceships move so slowly. It can take
A pilot and a ship. Then on a whim
I stowed away. With more it cannot make
Planetfall. I have to say goodbye.
The extra mass would mean that we both die.