I was reading about space and the beginning of the universe today.
The book (Maps of Time) had some really awesome phrases.
I used them to create a poem. Most of the words I added are just the lil ones to make the poem flow. The last stanza is the only real, substantial thoughts from my own head.
MAKE ART OUT OF THINGS PEOPLE DON’T REGARD AS ART
Stars, like people, have biographies.
The first generation of stars could not possibly have sustained life.
Stars battled the dark matter—the dark energy.
Black holes were better fed.
But, a whole stellar tribe was born in a cloud of pure, good matter.
And now, stars live more dangerously,
They’ve got dramatic life histories with spectacular ends.
Their corpses came from explosions.
Death throes of catastrophic collapse.
Stars crushed into cinders.
Without supernovae, we could not exist.
Thank the dead stars for your life.
Their beautiful funerals begot you.