Corona (Solar Eclipse)

Deep in the time of eclipse
As birds bed down and dusk creeps up
We see the Suns halo and crown
Reaching out to her children
Light in the darkness

Sunlight scatters from escaping electrons
Bounces off minute dust particles
While stripped atoms glow as crown jewels
Incandescently hot
Ethereal furnace

The act of seeing makes real
The fact of knowing sees beauty
The inner joyousness of the Universe
Lifts me
Up to the light

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Gravity Fights Dark Energy, Expanding Space the Winner #physics #quantumphysics #science #poem #poetry

Another fine Physics poem from Kate:

Kate's Science Fiction, News, and Poetry

NASA’s detailed, all-sky picture of the infant universe reveals 13.77 billion year old temperature fluctuations (shown as color differences) that grew into galaxies.

Where space holds no matter,
There vacuum is the void.
Where you expect there’s nothing,
Instead there’s quantum’s ploy.

Dark energy that causes
A strange propensity
Is driven by the vacuum
Decreasing density,
With vast immensity
It dissipates the energy,
But retains the mystery
Of quantum gravity –
The structure of space-time.

By Kate Rauner

2nd edition now available! Expanded!

Thanks to livescience.com and a new study published in the May 15 issue of the journal Physical Review D. I don’t have the math to speak quantum physics, and it still boggles my mind. Gravity – the only one of the four basic forces I have an intuitive feel for – refuses to fit into theoretical physics. But if gravity is the shape of space-time, then…

View original post 26 more words

Numbers and Faces by WH Auden


The Kingdom of Number is all boundaries
Which may be beautiful and must be true;
To ask if it is big or small proclaims one
The sort of lover who should stick to faces.

Lovers of small numbers go benignly potty,
Believe all tales are thirteen chapters long,
Have animal doubles, carry pentagrams,
Are Millerites, Baconians, Flat-Earth-Men.

Lovers of big numbers go horridly mad,
Would have the Swiss abolished, all of us
Well purged, somatotyped, baptised, taught baseball:
They empty bars, spoil parties, run for Congress.

True, between faces almost any number
Might come in handy, and One is always real;
But which could any face call good, for calling
Infinity a number does not make it one.

Love is Chaos

(It’s relative, generally speaking)

The angle of incidence – the collision
The angle of reflection— the realization
Burned by the egregious refraction
Of searching eyes

What is the (anti) matter

Stretched between magnetic fields
Of Reason and Desire
How will the equation balance—
One side must invariably be solved

(You)—
A centripetal force inveigling —
Explain entropic delusions
and test assumptions of reality.

—by Prasanta

Poem submitted as part of  community poetry prompts at https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/

Titration

A drop at a time from the burette,
known into unknown,
waiting for the giveaway colour change;
titration on a quiet afternoon.

She wanted to be a boy.
Drip drip drip,
Pink pink pink,
Princesses, ribbons; smile.
Pretty dresses, don’t get dirty,
tidiness, helpfulness,
the good wife always…

She looked a mess, climbed trees,
wrestled with her younger brother;
went topless on sunny days
in the woods, wore jeans.

Because they were fourteen
Because they were a gang
Because women gag for it
Because it was easy

A drop at a time from the burette,
known into unknown,
the whole world in a colour change;
titration on a quiet afternoon.

By Ruth Aylet

Originally published at https://thefatdamsel.wordpress.com/issue-2-part-2/

Ruth Aylett teaches computing at Heriot-Watt University. She is also a prize-winning poet and writer, whose work has appeared in New Writing Scotland; Doire Press, Textualities; Estuary – a confluence of Art and Poetry; Ink, Sweat and Tears and elsewhere.  She has read as a Shore Poets New Poet and at many Inky Fingers events. Read more about her work here.

 

The Migration of Darkness by Peter Payack

 

 Each evening, shortly after sunset,

darkness covers the land.

Having mystified thinkers for millennia,

the mechanism for this occurrence

has now been identified: migration.

Darkness, it has been found, is composed

of an almost infinite number of particles,

which roost and reproduce up north

where they have fewer natural enemies:

Forest fires, lampposts, lasers, blazing sunlight,

torches, candles, lighthouses, limelight, and electricity

are relatively rare in the polar regions.

  Peter Payack

The full poem is at http://peterpayack.info/id4.html

 

The Computation by John Donne

For the first twenty years since yesterday
I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away;
For forty more I fed on favors past,
And forty on hopes that thou wouldst they might last.
Tears drowned one hundred, and sighs blew out two,
A thousand, I did neither think nor do,
Or not divide, all being one thought of you,
Or in a thousand more forgot that too.
Yet call not this long life, but think that I
Am, by being dead, immortal. Can ghosts die?

 

John Donne is one of the great poets. Who can resist sharing one of his poems?