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See a YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her poem “Phobos Fears his Future” (written for the 8/18/1877 discovery of Mars’ moon Phobos by Asaph Hall at the US Naval Observatory in Washington, D.C.), and her haiku “unsung” (written 8/19, on and for World Humanitarian Day), read from the Janet Kuypers poetry book “Every Event of the Year (Volume Two: July-December)” on 7/23/20 during the Virtual Austin Poetry Society New World Poetry open mic (filmed from a Panasonic Lumix 2500 camera; posted on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram and Tumblr).

See a Facebook live video stream of Janet Kuypers reading her poem “Phobos Fears his Future” (written for the 8/18/1877 discovery of Mars’ moon Phobos by Asaph Hall at the US Naval Observatory in Washington, D.C.), and her haiku “unsung” (written 8/19, on and for World Humanitarian Day), read from the Janet Kuypers poetry book “Every Event of the Year (Volume Two: July-December)” on 7/23/20 during the Virtual Austin Poetry Society New World Poetry open mic (this video was filmed Samsung S9 camera).

Phobos Fears his Future Janet Kuypers 7/23/20 (for the 8/18/1877 discovery of Mars’ moon Phobos by Asaph Hall at the US Naval Observatory in Washington, D.C.) Turbulent, tumultuous relationships arise when more delicate beings are pulled in... One small little creature, wandering, lost, was caught by the Roman red giant Mars, also known as Ares, the Greek god of war. The only way a delicate creature like this could survive Mars is to also be the son of Aphrodite, Venus, though this would still lead him only to personify fear. What choice did he have, too light for gravity to make him spherical, now porous & heavily cratered. Covered in a meter of dust from meteor bombardment, Phobos’ only choice was to spin so close to Mars’ equator — in a perfect circle — closer than any other known orbit, completing an orbit in only seven hours and thirty-nine minutes, below the synchronous orbit radius, rising in the west and setting in the east in this Martian sky within only four hours. Phobos may know that Ares, I mean, Mars, may do him in when that orbit pulls him in, but he can’t break free to Aphrodite — and this poor trapped child refuses to shine,* whose sunlit side rivals a pleasant Chicago winter day, though only a few kilometers away, on the dark side, it’s more harsh than a night in Antarctica. Of course this little gem knows its fate, knows it’s doomed, spinning so close it his mortal enemy, wondering if his evil king will suck him in to crash into Mars, or if he’ll break apart first, finally forming a dust ring that may rival gas giant rings. Of course he fears his future, but this destiny may be greater than you moons can imagine, so... keep spinning, knowing that a part of Phobos comes from war, but the other part, the part that no one cares to remember, is only made from love.   * Phobos is one of the least reflective bodies in the Solar System

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