Copernicus and Galileo of now
assert that in a few million years
a tick or two on the universe clock
another star will collide with ours
communiques of the brilliant meeting
will flash across The Milky Way
and minutes later a fire of heat
even Dante couldn’t inspire
will vaporise what we were and had
and what we believed was there
each atom thoroughly outraged
every molecule gaseous
if the fortune tellers are right
no one today will witness the event
and chances are later comers won’t be here
gone the way of the abusive and indulgent
only scorpions and roaches will be left to fry
unlucky fate for honest adaptors
it’s comforting to hope
some of what we made will survive
but every smithied word and phrase
from Homer to Heaney and crafters after
will be a nanoletter in a new alphabet soup
when smithereens cool and regroup
at best a perfection of nothingness
for now we do with minor collisions
flaws of conflict on the field
where creeds clash to gain ascendance
and in our daft heads where ideas
argue hard and jostle to be heard
johnpoetflanagan 
I wonder why humans are entranced by the idea of the end of time – when we probably won’t be here.
The poignancy of such a write is that the brevity of style, offering an infinite reach of its wisdom, will be considered, pondered and made into a personal non-fatalistic meditation by those still capable of an honest self-appraisal. That our solipsistic nature will indeed lead the charge of the species’ annihilation is rather ironic, if one’s imagination ventures the idea that the same process may be going on with other species in galaxies far, far away. You know, just around the corner in that other cosmic neighborhood that the God of choice created in his own image. Mmm.
The big picture is perfect for keeping things real and in perspective. Yes, we are petty little things, closer to Lilliputians than we like to admit. Great point of view.
Our importance carries weight nowhere beyond the collective of human psyches. This work systematically destroys the value only humans perceive. A collection of egos darting about to create impressions in an impression-less universe. Well said John.
THIS is perfection. Your delivery is stellar. Each line’s end has my mind wrapped ’round the corner of the next with no trips, missteps or obstacles. As I read, I feel fluid and anticipatory in your words.
Well said Your Honour but for now it’s show time and when the final curtain comes down we will all regroup and look for a new theater to continue our endless drama.
Damned me for an optimist, but I must point to the stars and say “There still Voyages a spark of human memory, when all our Earth is gone.” Perhaps we should toss a few more pebbles towards those sparkling lights and give ourselves hope to not be forgotten.
As we flay about in Texas with our crazy politicians, I read your words and sigh, Amen.
Amen from Georgia, too!
Love these lines:
but every smithied word and phrase
from Homer to Heaney and crafters after
will be a nanoletter in a new alphabet soup
when smithereens cool and regroup
at best a perfection of nothingness
The thing in computers nowadays seems to save information in a tech cloud. Perhaps there’s a cosmic cloud where all worthy things are saved.
Another good one Brother John!