Helen Lippell. I am 24 years old and live in London. I only started writing poetry over the Christmas period of 1999, but since then it has become a full-time hobby. I like to use poetry as a journal of my daily life, as well as in tackling more abstract themes. I wrote this poem in a park called the Bunhill Fields near the City of London on 9th July. I sat on a bench near the graves of William Blake and Daniel Defoe for inspiration.






Supernova

Stars must blow with a sonic boom
They shine for years then embrace their doom
I'm talking with awe of a supernova
A microsecond's bomb, and then it's over

Intense, fiery end to a glorious life
Proud nuclear lustre of heat and of strife
From shimmering body to a compact white dwarf
Mere mortals must bow to the fantabulous morph

The pulsar's throb for decades remains
The heartbeat lives on, and seldom wanes
Steam and gas and dust form a cloud
Vivid see-through colours, glittering proud

This event is no death, it's still yet a birth
Supernovas cede their treasures to our earth
Generously offering their gifts to all corners
Metals and elements shower the mourners

We feel the occurrence though it's distant and far
We marvel at the beauty of the death-thralled star
The planets still spin, hour after hour
We'll never comprehend the universe's power


Copyright 2000 by Helen Lippell