THE MATTER OF TIME

Time, physics, the Higgs Bosun. A poem right up our street!

an old writer and his words

Time is a construct,
the logic of which
is inescapable to be sure,
and yet we constantly
seek to escape, but
the exit is just beyond
the distant horizon.
We are on the edge
of finding the God particle,
and somewhere in time
Higgs is threatening to smile,
for once found, time
will cease to matter.

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QUANTUM DREAMS

An interesting poem using the Higgs Bosun:

an old writer and his words

Tonight the Higgs boson
stayed virtual
and utterly massless
and didn’t decay,
so only the cookies
acted on our teeth
and that decay
will fall within
the Schwarzchild radius
of the sink
with all six flavors
of quark
and all their colors.

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The Day They Discovered Gravitational Waves

Time was there were Han philosophers
standing on a hilltop at night
naming the Mansions of Heaven;
later, Galileo Galilei
weeping with joy at the moons of Jupiter.

Now, in sightless tunnels
beams from lasers have shivered
at ancient astral events –
and men and women around the world
pore over computations

in awe at the mathematics:
the Universe in its infancy
had arched its back and roared
and they can feel
the exhalation of its breath.

© John Looker 2016

Originally published at https://johnstevensjs.wordpress.com/2016/08/19/the-day-they-discovered-gravitational-waves/

See: https://www.ligo.caltech.edu

”  The two LIGO gravitational wave detectors in Hanford Washington and Livingston Louisiana have caught a second robust signal from two black holes in their final orbits and then their coalescence into a single black hole. This event, dubbed GW151226, was seen on December 26th at 03:38:53 (in Universal Coordinated Time, also known as Greenwich Mean Time), near the end of LIGO’s first observing period (“O1”), and was immediately nicknamed ‘the Boxing Day event’.  “

When Newton saw an apple fall

When Newton saw an apple fall, he found …
A mode of proving that the earth turnd round
In a most natural whirl, called gravitation;
And thus is the sole mortal who could grapple
Since Adam, with a fall or with an apple.

The Travelling Earth

In a twenty four hour cycle
The earth, like a top, will spin
Day is where the sunshine falls
Night is where the light has been.

The earth goes on another trip
It circles round the sun
It takes a year to make one lap
Four seasons, and it’s done.

Our seasons vary in their length
And in-ten-sity
With the height and distance from the poles
And influence of the sea.

For four and one half billion years
Mother earth she’s hard to tame
Because the chosen route is round
Things change, but stay the same.

–by Peter Elias

Collected from the excellent Windows to the Universe  site

https://www.windows2universe.org/art_and_music/travelearth.html

Visitor

A topical Astronomy poem. We have an interstellar visitor in our Solar System folks:

The Cheesesellers Wife

Visitor from afar,
tracked by orbital telescopes
calculated trajectory indicating
an extra solar origin.
She is dropping past and zooming out.

Rock studded ice lump
possibly formed without a mother sun
in the darknesses between stars.
Interplanetary orphan,
we have only just spotted you.
Where are the others?

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

In honour of object A/2017 U1 , now visiting our solar system from who knows where.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A/2017_U1

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After Reading a Child’s Guide to Modern Physics

If all a top physicist knows
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so’s,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,
We have a better time
Than the Greater Nebulae do,
Or the atoms in our brains.

Marriage is rarely bliss
But, surely it would be worse
As particles to pelt
At thousands of miles per sec
About a universe
Wherein a lover’s kiss
Would either not be felt
Or break the loved one’s neck.

Though the face at which I stare
While shaving it be cruel
For, year after year, it repels
An ageing suitor, it has,
Thank God, sufficient mass
To be altogether there,
Not an indeterminate gruel
Which is partly somewhere else.

Our eyes prefer to suppose
That a habitable place
Has a geocentric view,
That architects enclose
A quiet Euclidian space:
Exploded myths – but who
Could feel at home astraddle
An ever expanding saddle?

This passion of our kind
For the process of finding out
Is a fact one can hardly doubt,
But I would rejoice in it more
If I knew more clearly what
We wanted the knowledge for,
Felt certain still that the mind
Is free to know or not.

It has chosen once, it seems,
And whether our concern
For magnitude’s extremes
Really become a creature
Who comes in a median size,
Or politicizing Nature
Be altogether wise,
Is something we shall learn.