Saturday, April 04, 2009

NaPo 09 ~ Untitled(1)

This is my "poem written in under ten minutes" thingy, as suggested by Mr Rob.

It shows. I am shamed.


There's a bear in the sky
hunting sacks of gas,
each hydrogen mass
rent by claws; then
eaten, digested,
smashed into stars.

A mild man would quiver.

Beyond the facade of black,
echoes of heat relate
a story of the first birth:
resonate microwaves sing!

I am not a mild man; quivers
never stipple my spine.

Take out the spin of my world,
hide my gravity. I still have
ears to hear the stellar hymn.

Some say that mystery is a
key herb in good soup:
your bare hide quivers me.

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