"supergiants" poems
The Night Sky
Taking a walk and it’s late, dark out,
sky full of clouds.
Family in beds, sleeping.
Watching rows upon rows of feral shadow clouds roll
across the sky in heavy sheets.
Air is charged, crackling from the energy
of my body as I walk by naked.
I have stolen the stars tonight.
Walking slowly, no thoughts,
my feet among the trees
trees blades of grass my immense form looking down
At mountains the size of mole hills
aerial, seeing as the raptor must.
Granted immense powers such as hyperfocus and
watching buck leap elegantly miles below.
Body is now composed of innumerable celestial bodies
Time is become me,
Form curving elegantly
fabric of spacetime billowing
in the crystalline winter wind.
As I walk I am everything and nothing.
The universe breathes throughout me
stellar nebulas exhale clouds of interstellar gas and dust
across my chest up my arms and neck red giants and
supergiants my legs erupting supernova, black holes
behind my knees across my face trillions of asteroids and
meteoroids sailing coming together in fantastic collisions
all this and looking up the night sky,
Devoid,
clouds moving quick under nothing absolute nothing.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 2:35 AM UTC
You remember that cow they told us about?
The one that jumped over the moon?
Well.
It never came back.
It’s hind legs were so powerful,
it’s hooves so sturdy
that he jumped from here,
on earth,
all the way over the moon.
All the way through the asteroid belt
past Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune
and even Pluto,
that tiny little sphere of ice
those *** holes at the International Astronomical Union
declassified as a planet in 2006.
The cow died before it got there though.
Maybe because there’s no oxygen in space
though I’ll never be certain.
But his body kept on floating.
Still propelled by the force it left earth with:
a dead black and white cow
sailed out of our solar system
and into the Arm of Orion.
But the light from Rigel and Betelgeuse
chased him away.
Blue-white and red supergiants have that effect on people.
Or cows.
Even dead cows.
And so, our travelling hero, who I’ve now named Frank,
spiralled through 0-gravity
and ended up
on the other side of the Milky Way.
Cygnus. Cygnus’ Arm is what caught him.
Cygnus and Frank became good friends.
Who could imagine!?
A dead cow and swan made of stars!
How preposterous.
But eventually they spread apart
(as all friendships eventually do)
and so Frank was left without a companion
and drifted off through space once more.
And we haven’t heard from him since.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
I heard I could tie all my veins and arteries together and they would circle the earth so I thought if we laced ours together we could reach the moon
and watch stars blaze like one hundred billion cigarettes in the dark
skinny dip through purple orange green supernova explosions
curl up in a crater and watch the world spin like a cumbersome ballerina then we’d dive back down from the moon to the mothership
and unbraid our veins, separating mine from yours.
But without those vascular knots we’d start drifting apart just like Pangaea.
We’d both begin forgetting how we ballroom danced through constellations together how our fingertips wrinkled like walnuts outside the atmosphere
how we sunbathed under the incandescence of blue supergiants
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
i saw the stars in your eyes
...as in red stars
the supergiants on the brink of death
you should probably go see a doctor
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:43 PM UTC