Papa's Poem Corner Episode 25: What The? Who Now?

Ah ha! You all thought that I had fallen back into my old forgetfulness, that I had fallen asleep at the wheel as it were, that I was eating the cheese pie without my pants for you to take it. Well, I'm not! I was just not at work on Friday, because I got my wisdom toof taken out. Sadly, no drugs were administered or taken during this whole thing. I was awake for the whole procedure, and only took a couple of Ibuprofens the whole weekend. When will my day of drugged loopiness come? When will I be the Queen of the Ball in all your eyes? Maybe Thursday (Lost season finale--woot woot!).

Now, Let's dance a poem.


Supernova

Star
swirling ball of gas
erupting, raging, compounding
the potential climax that drives this flame
to reach, to touch, to fill all space
to explode (warmth, light and dust); to extend—
or to crumble and shrink and accept its fate,
consumed in dark void; the blackest waste.

I
not swirling (but gaseous all the same),
rising and falling in waves
reaching for that image of myself I see
to shine my warm light in the cold dark
and scatter my dust to mingle with life.
My two fates: to expand or to shrink—
and no choice at all is a black hole, I think.



Well, there it is. Now, to end us off, we shall once again tread lightly where no other poems go: the haiku.


Hopping sparrow
sings its morning tune.
Smart worm sleeps in.