"Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness."
Khalil Gibran

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Dead Star

Your heart is a drum,
but no one marches
to its staccato

hitch   hitch   hitching itself
to a long dead star.

Kelli Simpson

Agnes Lawrence Pelton (1940)


We think of ourselves
as sentient
beings made in godly form
given a garden
a choice

to build up
or take down

to dance
or battle it out

We praise our nobility
of intellect
as something elevated
received rather
than earned

so we can sing
or call to arms

we can eulogise
or design Armageddon

We are not animals
but men
of the Earth we don’t deserve
already circling
a dying star.


My poem today takes a note from the prompt set by Gillena on Sunday, which asks that we respond to another poet's poem, even one written by one of our fellow poets in The Imaginary Garden.
Earlier this month, I read the poem Invisible by Kelli Simspon a.k.a. Mama Zen. Even as I read it, I knew it had taken me to a completely different place than was perhaps intended, so I have returned to that thought as my inspiration for this poem, which is coupled with the painting by Agnes Lawrence Pelton for The Tuesday Platform


  1. We are indeed men of the Earth and all the worse for it. Maybe if we were more like our animal brothers and sisters we might have a chance....or perhaps more feminine in our dealings with things...one thing is for sure...if the patriarchy does not eat itself soon we are doomed.

    1. Perhaps instead of men I should have said people... Women seem as capable of going for the jugular these days.

  2. Men may in fact treat the earth far poorly than the animals which inhabit it--great write Kerry!

  3. Poor, foolish, doomed critters that we are.

  4. It's strange how those well-known things--the sun (and everything else) is dying feel so shocking when we really think about it. Or, perhaps, so helpful. Knowing how tiny we are might be what we need, if we are ever going to stop freaking out about our tiny problems.

  5. I took an extra step. This poem has deeper meaning when the "star" is not limited to the sun.

  6. The last stanza brings it all together.

  7. Poor drummer and all the rest. I haven't researched the 'dead star' but I can imagine it to be similar to a 'cold planet' now, depending on it distance from other heat. I feel sorry for all of its planets and their moons, they indeed are hitched to a dead star. Gravity still works though.

  8. We are the architects of our doom. Oh my, how our own egos are our worst enemies.

  9. My thoughts exactly! Worry I do of what we do...
    Anna :o]

  10. Lord what fools these mortals be!


Let's talk about it.