Welcome!You have arrived at StarPoet, a comet falling toward morning. The poet's still here, Sappho's child, slightly disheveled.
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| A Chameleon Sky | ||
| The sands of time are running out for the central star of this the Hourglass Nebula. With its nuclear fuel exhausted, this brief, spectacular, closing phase of a sun-like star's life occurs as its outer layers are ejected and its core becomes a cooling, fading white dwarf. In 1995, astronomers used the Hubble Space Telescope to make a series of images of planetary nebulae, including the one above. Here, delicate rings of colorful glowing gas (nitrogen-red, hydrogen-green, and oxygen-blue) outline the tenuous walls of the 'hourglass.' The unprecedented sharpness of Hubble's images revealed surprising details of the nebula ejection process and may resolve the outstanding mystery of the variety of complex shapes and symmetries of planetary nebulae. Image Credit: NASA, WFPC2, HST, R. Sahai and J. Trauger (JPL)... |
| Jupiter Falls |
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| Poetry Cycles - Poems of Transition | |||
| Lisa Jain Thompson | |||
| Thursday, 04 January 2007 15:31 | |||
 Jupiter Falls
Spring into Summer
Saturn rising as Jupiter Falls
Doing Dylan doing Rimbaud
Tripping out over my guitar
Could have joined the circus
Done my high wire act in tents
Been a poet slaming verses
To the amazement of my friends
A single voiced dark woman
Singing lyrics before the band
A rock and roll extravaganza
Tiresias doing Morrison by hand
Willie, Willie, wherefore are thou,
Want to come to P A with me?
Come on Sappho, Sappho come on
Let me be your ch ch cherry bomb
You might think that I'm buried
Just outside of Paris
Or you've seen me
Eating doughnuts in Memphis
The truth of it is,
I'm somewhere on Lesvos
Catching the waves
As they cut across my toes.
I was a deaf, dumb blind boy
You all might have heard
It was in all the papers
And on a few lists
But I was transfigured, transmortified,
Trans - whatever you whispered,
My name is Starpoet,
Lisa Thompson that is:
You can call me L J,
Lisa Jain, or most anything
But the rose will be as thorny
And her fragrance linger on,
Her words as fluid as the morning tide
When she saw the first sunrise over the Aegean.
L. J. Thompson
2001
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| Last Updated on Thursday, 04 January 2007 15:41 |
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