Treasure Island

Ryan Brodesser

(9/16/1994 / California)

Birth Of A Titan


Bubbling bubbling from the burns of the sun,

The world was an infant, having just begun

Meteors roared across sky,

Across the Stygian universe miles high.


The world was young.

Yet, here it was; it had begun.


It was so hot to be on it, surely, one would bake

From the roiling rivers of blood, red lava creating crimson lakes.

Often simmering until having explosive fits,

Shuddering and shaking under meteor hits.


Hostile, and almost as hot as the sun,

For the world had just begun.


Lava poured and volcanoes roared.

Plumes of smoke, ash and pumice soared

When she cooled, a now sleeping giant.

Against all odds, she stood defiant.


Still seething, angry, such a destructive one!

Standing tall and proud, our world had begun.


The air turned, suddenly, for the worse.

Poisonous, unbreathable, foul, and horribly coarse.

Long overdue, the rain began willingly to start

To cool off her angry magmatic heart.


Yet still, she was far from done!

From this healing salve, the earth had just begun.


For time immemorial, she was drowned, till everything it covered.

So that many of her scars had to be rediscovered.

Quiet, hissing, filled with the ocean’s lifeless seas.

The world was now recovering from her miseries.


Empty and without flukes, claws, tentacles or fin,

The world was vacant, needing life to begin.

From silent shores at barren, empty lands doors

The circle of creation was on its final floor.

Ancient rocks created our first breath of air,

So fine, so fair!



After such toil, to stop would be a sin.

For she was ready for life to begin.


Transparent microbes colonize the sea.

This was life’s master key.

Tiny, small, desperately dependent on the raging sun,

This is how our world begun!

Submitted: Monday, August 12, 2013
Edited: Monday, August 26, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The creation of the world in poem form. Enjoy! Read and review

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