THE BIG BANG

Do not donate a Poet
With thunderless pen,
Unsleeping nights.
His lightning
Cannot decorate the sky
With fruits of earthly AZ BUKI,
When the distant Stella
His sacred land of poetry
Has turning of,
Like my father was doing it
With embers against spell.

Then intergalactic drum
Will going to call whole planets
Tribes together
To pay respect
To the setting star
(un-born or dying poem).

Her particles will be spread
Into a black hole
Of the endless space
Into us, body and soul.

The powerful baritone
Of sad priest
Zealously will announce
The next Big Bang.

Poets will fell it first!