The Asteroid Project

My name is Damian Marley, and I am not the son of Bob, and Bob's not me uncle. I am, however, a teacher-hubby-dad-nerdbomber type person from Melbourne, Australia. Astronomy, space, science, books, filmmaking, education and music are some of the things I bang on about. Most stuff I post is original. And you?
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Peter Costello Said

asteroidpoetry:

One for Mum:

Sleeping, she stretches one arm out daintily

then kicks her legs and suddenly there’s no more room for Daddy

in his own bed.

Uncannily a replica of Mummy,

I kiss her on the cheek while she’s asleep

because when she’s awake she frowns at my stubble

and tells me I’m too sharp.

One for Dad:

Sleeping, he won’t move around much, presenting

his handsome profile that sometimes reminds me of mine,

(without the handsome bit).

Uncannily a replica of Daddy,

his pummels me in slapstick humour

pretending to be Mummy’s bodyguard

and frowning at the music I listen to.

And one for the country:

Sleeping, he still looks like a baby and he was our first

although now I can hardly carry him - his feet almost on the floor -

carrying a bloke.

Uncannily a replica of both of us,

he gazes at machines and animals 

with such a serious face; his brand of frowning

is one of curiosity. 

School Photos

asteroidpoetry:

Unnatural it is
To stop what you’re doing,
To drop it all, just leave your thing
Whatever you’re doing
And stand together,
The Sun in your eyes
As you squint at the lens
And wait for the flash
As the man says
CHEESE.
You remember that time?
At school photos that year?
He was such a pisser.
He was taking the staff photo
And he didn’t say CHEESE.
He said PAYRISE.
And everyone smiled,
You’d better believe it.
And then it’s done.
Everyone goes back
And does their job
And the picture goes up on the corridor wall -
Dusty and fading,
With decades-old ties, shirts, slacks, beards, make-up and dresses.

Sandwich

asteroidpoetry:

I wrote a good poem about a sandwich

and how a day can be just like the good stuff

Betwixt by the bread

Of the drive to work and back again.

Then there was a bit in which I pondered

The people who work from home,

And whether or not their day 

Was more like an open salad

Drizzled with dressing.

And how the meat was the emotion

And the gristle was the grind of the tedious things.

And how the mayonnaise was the moments of elation.

I wrote all of that

And then Tumblr broke

And my poem vanished into the night -

A sandwich above our heads

In a million pieces.

This Fire

asteroidpoetry:

This fire is like the Sun

We move fast when

we’re closest

And slow further away

From its energy.

Closer, it is inscrutable

Like a person’s face

Against the light of the

true Sun.

Farthest, and it is light,

no heat,

A distant orange star.

Closer, my eyes smart

And I move in orbit to

outskirt the breeze.

Farthest, I gaze upon it

And long for warmth.

Closer, the crackle, the

drama and flux.

Farthest, it dims and

slowly fades away.

"When there’s no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth."
Dawn of the Dead, 
1978 

astronomicalwonders:

The Olsen-Sidonio Centaurus A Extreme Deep Field
Rolf Olsen and Mike Sidonio are pleased to present here what we believe to be the deepest colour image in visible light ever presented of the entirety of the enigmatic and famous galaxy NGC 5128.
Credit: Rolf Olsen

astronomicalwonders:

The Olsen-Sidonio Centaurus A Extreme Deep Field

Rolf Olsen and Mike Sidonio are pleased to present here what we believe to be the deepest colour image in visible light ever presented of the entirety of the enigmatic and famous galaxy NGC 5128.

Credit: Rolf Olsen

New

asteroidpoetry:

And how would it be
in your every day
through the thick,
the thin,
you looked around
and in what you did
you made everything -
everything
New?