My Thoughts As Microwaves

I write atleast 3 poems a day
most of them never make it to paper
but i like to think
the poems I wrote that perished
somewhere inside of my head
made it out alive and are floating
somewhere in outer space

Someday when I am gone
some future race
or one of my distant descendants
will discover some new frequency
beaming back from deep space
and they'll hear these thoughts and poems
the ones I've lost and assumed dead
and maybe it will start some sort of
renaissance or revolution or
atleast send them looking
farther than any man has gone before

and I'll be alive in their hearts and minds
and they will discuss me in university classrooms
and some will claim in the Devil
while others will say I'm God
children will be named after the men and women in my stories
people will wage war in my name
people will fight and die for me
my stories will be passed down from generation to generation
and they will write it all down and make it into a book
and leave it in nightstands at cheap motels
and I will be on the Best Sellers list for a thousand years

THAT

or
the white haired scientist
tinkering in their basement
that brilliant descendant of mine
will tune in to the frequency beaming back
to this planet from the outer edges of space
thousands of years from now
and pass right over it
unable to find any beauty within all the white noise