Tuesday, 12 July 2011

Blast off

Welcome to The Dove, a free sci-fi-story written in verse. To read more about this project, head over to the About page (link on your right). Or start reading right away either by downloading the PDF directly, or by viewing it on-line (both links over to right as well).

At this moment, The Dove is just a book, but I would like to expand that little universe with the help of others. If you read the book you'll notice that there are several things left unexplained; what is techno-faith? What does Earth look like? Why do they travel to another planet? What does the Dove look like? What does father Roberts chanting sound like? And what is the deal with "Northern Europia"?

The license encourages others to fill in these gaps. If you do, please contact me (either by mail or by writing in the comments section below) so that I can put it up here! Head over to the Resources page for more stuff to work with (I'll update it accordingly).

If you have any questions or (preferably) opinions about this book, feel free to comment!


  1. Alright! I have been at work at work at something that I think describes the feeling I got of being on the distant planet that the Dove landed on, when I read your book. I'll post it right here in the comments. But first thing's first.

    Your poems are excellent. There are many things in them that I can point out as favourite parts or parts that stuck with me but I will leave it to, for the moment, that the whole book is what makes it. It feels like a journey both literally and figuratively.

    Here is what I wrote from a person who is at the other planet and thinks back at the time that he was on earth and then goes back to reality (his new reality). It's only 134 words.

    A tiny dot in the telescope
    a tiny dot of hope

    green at noon
    red at night
    it's daughter moon
    an evening sight

    A dim flicker on the computer
    A dim flicker for a brighter future

    to start press space
    program will run
    it's digital haze
    our morning sun

    I wonder
    if I wave
    can they see

    I wonder
    if they wonder
    if it’s me

    but now

    A home only in my memory
    A home devoid of scenery

    there at day
    there at evening
    here to stay
    what’s the meaning

    A picture in the red sand
    A picture drawn by hand

    to leave me here
    away from earth
    in hell’s sphere’s
    below my worth

    I think
    I am doomed
    our dove’s no more

    I think
    that they think
    we’ve opened heaven’s door

  2. Nice! Interesting to read about what the people on the other planet is thinking.

    I've put it up on the Resources page (I named this one 1, but if you want a title just write it here and I'll change it).

  3. I called it "The Planet of Hope", before I started writing it. It might work still, I think.

  4. I've been working on my own piece of stuff about Techno-Faith and the Dove. Don't look for the full one anytime soon though - I'm at 14 of 140 verses. The meter also still needs to be tightened up in places, so that should be done at some point soon.

    Here's what I have so far:

    The Dove was dying, out in space.
    Running in a Red Queen’s Race.
    Drained of life by worshippers, drunk to death by followers.

    They sucked the fluid from her veins.
    Causing never ending pains.
    Her heart was heating ever faster, spinning like a maddened caster.

    Devotees of Techno-Faith.
    Turned their goddess to a wraith.
    And the Dove sailed on and on, as her blood was slowly drawn.

    The captain was a foolish fop.
    Watched reactors spinning like a top.
    As they quickly, quickly heated, and Techno-Faith grew undefeated.

    We were sent out to colonize.
    (Father Roberts said to re-baptize)
    Bring peaceful life to other skies.

    They said it was a sin to hate.
    That preaching still, perhaps, could wait.
    So why the bodies in the hold, growing colder, growing mold?

    Thus the Dove flew on through space.
    Built and tortured by the human race.
    Maddened men of a bloody creed, some other thing in word and deed.

    They worshipped gods of silicon and steel.
    Didn’t care for others then, for they could only think, not feel.
    Wondered at electron walls, kissed the gleaming, whitish halls.

    Sucked the coolant out of Dove.
    Tainted by it ‘till they could no longer love.
    Strange isotopes ran through their veins, giving power though it burned their brains.

    The captain sat there in his chair.
    Ran his fingers through his hair.
    And thought “To interrupt my rest! How could they dare!”

    The Dove sailed on, out of Earthsight.
    Hull covered in an icy light.
    And Techno-Faith grew stronger still, despite the hatred and ill-will.

    We watched from here, outside these walls.
    Dreamed of moon, and sun, and waterfalls.
    So we waited wary of, the ones infecting our sweet Dove.

    Blinded by their dreamed of god-machine.
    Never hearing how she’d keen.
    Thinking only of the fluid, and trying to become a techno-druid.

    Father Roberts chanting slowly.
    Recites the names of those he killed: Robins, Bero, Smith and Groly.
    Feasting there on human flesh, not that of those he killed before, this is newer, and still fresh.

  5. Really good, I like it!

    Is it OK to put it up on the Resources page, or do you want to complete it first?

  6. Thanks! As long as you mark it as unfinished, that sounds good.

  7. Added! Do you have a title for it?

  8. 'God in the Machine' might work as a title.

  9. Yes! This is a brilliant idea. I have a weird fascination for science fiction poems ever since I read Aniara by Harry Martinson.