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@rock-rex.bsky.social Sep 6, 2026, 7:33 PM

"A Personal Cosmology".

#poem #poetry #skypoets #blueskypoets #poetsofbluesky #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #eyotmagazine

The dead, he murmured,
are but scattered versions of the quick.
To live is to be loved or
hated, thought of, mused
upon, et cætera; the overwhelming mass of
self, though, draws
those particles
of being to the centre, to an egoistic
point.
What
we call life is nothing but the crushing
of what really counts,
the black hole of the “I” lets little
loose beyond its
drear event horizon.
Death
dissipates
that central lump, allows the thoughts
of others to spread out throughout
the world.

He paused, and drank,
and looked into my eyes,
and put his hand upon my thigh,
and sighed, and I
released (albeit temporarily)
the gravitationally captured
thoughts of him in others’ minds —
still dull, but
free.

published in Eyot Magazine 2, 2016

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