Gravitational Waves–Again

A wonderful poem by Merril D Smith  on Vita Brevis:


Gravitational Waves–Again


gravity’s pull (20180207)

From a poet who always delivers:

Words and Feathers

these are the coalsmoke wings
the oilslick feathers
each a dizzy spiraling martyr

how many times must
the wing evolve
modifying limbs
until the correct vessel
for flight appears

we are rocks with voices
we are the earth subducting ourselves

gravity’s pull
is action at a distance

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Exo-Atmospheres Send Photonic Clues

A brilliant poem about Exo-planets, thanks Kate!

Kate's Science Fiction, News, and Poetry

Exoplanets - check out Kate Rauner's science inspired poetryStars wobble in our telescopes,
Luminosities diverge,
And from such tiny signals
Their planets do emerge.

Thousands of stars host planets,
Giants of swirling gas,
And some that seem more earthly
In their orbits and their mass.

But each of these is distant,
Lifetimes away for certain.
How ever will we know if
There’s life upon the surface?

Light filters through their atmospheres,
When atmospheres they own.
Molecules split spectra
Into patterns that are known.

Life creates imbalances,
Whatever life may be,
However strange,
Points to biology.

And so we have a protocol
As we gather specks of light,
Photons that passed through planets’ air
On their interstellar flight…

Will tell us if there’s oxygen
Or methane, CO2,
Water vapor, nitrogen,
Or ozone in the brew.

And tease us with the knowledge
That beyond our current grasp
Creation may have left its mark,
A hand we cannot clasp.


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A gravity poem:



Rubber sheet 

“The Geometry of Gravity,”

reads the card of the museum’s display

where metal spheres are leisurely launched

along the lip of a parabolic funnel.


They eddy in a sort of perpetual motion,

their descent as imperceptible as inevitable.


Early on, they collide, kissingly,

as the longer rolling elliptically hoist themselves

into intersecting orbits.

Fresher launches define their fall

with ever increasing velocity

into accelerated, deeper orbits,

more stable, circular and unique.


Their increasing forward speed

diminishes their descent

till they blur into fevered coils

hung stationary at the funnel’s neck.


They vibrate aggressively

into ghosts that vanish into the mechanism

that invisibly replaces each along the lip

of this metaphoric model of the human condition.

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Einsteins Dice

in the tesseract
I came across
Rene Descartes playing
cards with the Devil

this was a quantum
environment, so

both were cheating
willing the
cards to change

is the sneaky nature
of consciousness

I win, I lose,
therefore I am
(and every
win-win a

from some
utterly paradoxical, diabolical perspective
ten-a-penny in
the tesseract)

by Damian Garside


Dannie Abse, The stethoscope

Medicine is one of the sciences, and here is a fine poem:

Roy Marshall

” I felt that poetry shouldn’t be an escape from reality, but rather an immersion into reality, and part of my reality was, indeed, my hospital life at the time. And so I became prepared to write poems which had medical undertones. Louis Pasteur once said (talking of scientific inspiration), ‘Chance favors the prepared mind,’ and my mind was prepared to write poems that were medically coloured.”  Dannie Abse , from a lecture and reading delivered by the poet at the NYU School of Medicine, April 8, 1999.

Page from Dannie Abse Collected poems 1948- 1976, Hutchinson Press, 1977.

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