Capsules Poem by GRANT FRASER

It took at least 55 years
for the spaceship to
even land,

and when it got there,
they still didn't know;
how to approach everything,

some said, a sort of madness
had got in?

I'd say they're all crazy,
then some arguments
followed:

as they couldn't even come
to some kind of agreement,

most stayed put,
others masturbated
themselves ecstatically,
back to sleep,

and the planet down
below,
seemed almost cryptic
and tragic,

some believe that earthlings,
had lost the plot, many moons before,

present order,
a sort of poisoned
preconditioning,

they had become so sick
without even a trace of it,
that society could play
on just about anything,

worst the majority
pretended to believe it too,
and held their tongues,
as their own position's might
be at stake,

who are you to question
the womb, she screamed! ,
are you trying to infer
that we are the defective
gene behind this..

for time,
had become the ultimate,
witch-hunt?

(for the most convicted,
or violent,
can now come out to play) ,

flags and beliefs
get shoved down your throat,

what are you,
you don't look like
someone from around here,

and the clock kept going
round,
in fact digital
can work as a form of
camouflage,

and being one of their greatest
finds, time is everything,

but believe me it is not
out there, nor down here,
and it counts for little,

and it is their soul God & merit,

for they will never allow
you or anyone,
to ever
**** with it..