In the dynasty Han Chinese
nearly two thousand years ago,
sky-watchers could witness with ease
a guest star's empyreal show.
Believed the first documented
supernova in astro-lore,
it may have been represented
too in Roman writings of yore.
That sidereal mystery
by virtue of sudden debut
was called "guest star" in history
and for eight months lingered in view.
Having characteristic peak
luminosity steady, it
began like a solar death bleak
which shrank to white dwarf bit by bit,
then devoured a fellow star's mass,
thus to burst in nuclear way
when that vast event came to pass
in a hugely brilliant display
as bright as a galaxy whole
ere it faded from earthly eyes,
slowly losing the shining role
it had played in the ancient skies.
Some fresh observations have shown
that the Milky Way remnant grew
so immense so fast on its own
due to inner winds the dwarf blew,
creating a cavity great
before the explosion took place
followed by swift expansion rate
when it burst in the hollow space.
The occurrence seemingly rare
that infrared scrutiny saw
causing early gazers to stare
brought new knowledge on which to draw.
In colorful multi-wave scene
this celestial image contains
a gaseous shell with bright sheen
of type one-a astral remains.
Four space scopes combined to evoke
a profiled feline head for me,
though not the look of pet to stroke,
but rather cat with eyes that see
with clarity of cosmic sight
how stellar orbs were born and died
plus whether multiverses might
have other poets starry-eyed.
(While for now those bards are quiet,
or at least not yet detected,
would M-theorists deny it
‘mongst the bubble branes suspected?)
To paraphrase an ode sublime
addressed to Grecian urn, by Keats,
whose works endure in timeless time
as dazzling literary feats—
penned in his interrupted prime,
giddy sensuous oasis,
lyric ekphrasis, passioned rhyme,
versus paradoxic stasis.
‘Silent forms, tease us out of thought
as doth eternity' when mused
upon; still both in poem wrought
within these stanzas have been fused.
The closing quote, much debated,
by each Keatsian scholar sleuth,
finds live beauty elevated
over lifeless artistic truth—
so it has come to me to seem
after immersions myriad
oftentimes in a trancelike dream
for a long-lasting period…
Albeit the critics defend
divergent interpretations
nonetheless this ode, in the end,
will remain for generations.
"Love is my religion, " Keats said,
in a letter to Fanny Brawne.
Sadly, soon after, he was dead,
though his poetry shall live on.
An epitaph engraved for his
tombstone at site of final rest
makes no mention of who he is
at the poet's precise request.
"Here lies One, " it affirms, "Whose Name
was writ in Water"— such magic
in that vision which conjures fame
grand as oceans, yet so tragic!
The questions that he raised persist
as our gaze to the heavens flies
to far-off wonders that exist,
and a million reveries rise.
For those beauteous shapes, in fact,
of stellary whereabouts strange
seem fixed in space, caught in the act,
yet they've already gone through change
by the time we see the traces
of their distant cosmic faces…
Brilliant as always, I certainally see why you admire the great poet Keats, your ending is what I think of many times...though they appear to be fixed in space..caught in the act, by the time we see it, change has already taken place, the fact that it lingered for 8 months in itself speaks mathematical volumes as to the enormity of the event, you will always be at the top of my list of poets, I always read your poems with fascinating eagerness, I join with Kelly Kurt...BRAVO! ! ! !
Ah, your words do my heart good! Yes, indeed that must have been a spectacular occurrence. I’m pleased that you picked up on the ending and how it tied the themes of the cosmic event and the Keats poem together. Thank you very much for your great encouragement and support!
One of my favorite reads in a long time. I can tell the time and effort put forth to create it. Bravo!
Your comment is much appreciated! It is gratifying that you noticed my labors, and I am truly pleased that you enjoyed the entire poem. Thank you so much!
Harley, you seem to have two poems in one. I prefer a separation. The first should end after the twelfth stanza. The second seems to lose its integrity and needs to be rewritten. I think the first poem is magnificient.
You seem to have read the poem quickly. For me, it has its own kind of unity. I took a long time composing this and am satisfied. Of course, feedback is welcome, but my poem is what it is… I am reminded that first responses to the Keats poem in 1820 were highly unfavorable. In reaction to the final couplet, one review said the following: “That is, all that Mr Keats knows or cares to know.—But till he knows much more than this, he will never write verses fit to live.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am a man of science, thought, philosophy, logic and the now. I think your style, your ability, mirror mine. A number of nebulae have been traced to historic documents of their novae births. I could not help but want to read this. Nature, existence, are part of my 60 year reality; invariable, understandable, repeatable.
Among my poems, I have written many about astronomy. It is a subject that interests me greatly. Thank you for reading my poem and for commenting.