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OC 5d
A life away
You intertwined our fingers
And whisper, this is fate
It cannot be by chance.

But little do you know,
There is no guiding hand
We are a combination
Of one path that we took
And the rest that were not taken
And in this very moment
I read a book in a café
I watch a movie from my bed
I ski across the Alps
I breathe your scent
Mingled with the aromas
Of coffee, sleep and freshly packed snow
And of many, many more
And yet
The braid made by our fingers
Is duplicated countless times
Through all these permutations

You see
The odds were therefore in our favor
Alas, no mysticism here
What you call fate, is chance
The guiding hand of nature.
The 8th installment in this series of poems inspired by physics (for background, see the first in the series).

Fun fact: In my native tongue, "fate" and "chance" are expressed by the same word (an auto-antonym).

For further reading: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fokker%E2%80%93Planck_equation
(this is an awfully technical description to my taste, that misses the essence and philosophy of the theory - I may rewrite it on wikipedia somday)

Thoughts and comments are always welcome
OC Jul 7
Slow. slower
so infinitely sluggish
so much the earthly turn
would seem to simply vanish
'till bluebirds freeze mid-flight
like crystallizing salt
'till streams will cease their aqueous murmur
their rapids,  gleaming glass
'till a heartbeat will forget
that it was once a rhythm

Still
in this absence of the motion
the tingle of the scruff just hints
the constant frolic of the air
as wings slide towards it, oh so slowly
the turmoil of the water rushing nowhere
to break on shores as far as ever
the boiling of the blood in veins
as bustling as busy city streets
this ruckus
held in the gap between two moments

Now fast. faster
more swift than any measure
until a single blink
will span entire seasons
'till mountains rise and fall
like tides during a storm
'till the moon is but a brushstroke
across the night sky whole
'till all of history is shrunk
to but a single point

Yet
in all of this commotion
no thing can separate from other
how height of peak and depth of valley
merge to the same plateau
how night and day together blend
into an everlasting twilight
how all that we were and will be
condenses, like it never was
in this silence
where time is crammed and threats to rapture

Isn’t it wonderful?
all things stand and move, still and in motion
and in the gap that separate the times
we are, like senior toddlers
just opening our eyes
Seventh installment of the series of poems inspired by physics (see first poem in the series for explanation).
For further reading: http://www.bio-physics.at/wiki/index.php?title=Separation_of_Timescales
(A very crude explanation of a much broader philosophy, but with a classic example)

Thoughts and comments are wielcom
OC Jun 21
The first step is the hardest
the second, harder still
    a steeper step, I follow through
    my world, it seems, is built askew
     my goal, to clime that hill

     Yet not all treads are equal
        some forward
    some reverse
    a trail is nowhere to be found
  its easier to turn around
the valley ground, a curse

But patience is a virtue
  persistence is a key
   surmounting mountains is a must
   when voices urge within each gust
   escape, and you go free

     Those winds, they carry forward
         and inching steps amass
      a lifetime spent inside a ditch
            and suddenly the trough is breached
                     I reach the top at last

                     But legs, they know just walking
                     not how to stand and cheer
                    inertia pull, and I comply
                    across, and to the other side
                 it’s all downhill from here
Sixth installment of the series of poems inspired by physics (see first poem in the series for explanation).
For further reading: http://physics.gu.se/~frtbm/joomla/media/mydocs/LennartSjogren/kap8.pdf (Section 8.2, you can get the feel without delving into the math)

Thoughts and comments are welcome
OC Jun 18
You are
What you are

Even while carried
To the left, or to the right
Up and down
Even if pivoted
Through each and every angle
Even when you were
And when you will
Forever still

Except

When you reflect
Through right to left
In your perception of the self
You are

Mistaken

So why rely on chiral lie
Deny your mirror form
And celebrate you
That is true
Through other eyes

You are reborn
Fifth installment of the series of poems inspired by physics (see first poem in the series for explanation).
For further reading: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symmetry_(physics)

Thoughts and comments are welcome
OC May 23
Tangent, like so
Back side, torso
Two systems touching
Move ever so slow
Breathe in the body heat
Top off both of the lungs
Feel those expand the diaphragm
Stretching body to its limit
Then halt
Then hold
Let the ribcage further swell
To the point of nearly bursting
First stroke
Feel cold air tingling the nose
Make contact
Release the diaphragm
Slowly, almost without motion
Pour heat outside into the chill
Until the airways close down shut
Press on, then press some more
And take your breath away
Second stroke
The cycle starting over
Rhythmic, measured, patient
With maximal efficiency
Each night,
You prove through me the limit
of possibility
Another installment in the series of poems inspired by physics (see first of the series for more details). Thoughts and comments are appreciated.
For further reading: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnot_heat_engine
OC May 20
There’s irony
In our struggle to resolve
In our vain attempt to state
That if we decompose the world
And isolate
The properties of every element
We can construct it bottoms-up
In all its former glory

Yet nature still resists
For it is not made of the details
But of all that manifest between
It is not balanced on a needle
But emerges from the pattern sewn
From the answer, not to “Why?”
But to “Why not?”

If we just distance the objective
From the subject, that is subjective by default,
And take a glance from far enough
The universe unfolds
A whole
Much larger than its parts

The same way motion
Is not defined for isolated sole
Same as color
Is never measured by a single pulse
The same way poetry
Does not exist within a single word
Creation
Is not the grains, but the coast whole
That lets us know just where
The sea begins
Third installment in the series of poems inspired by physics (see first poem in the series for explanation).
For further reading: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coarse-grained_modeling

Thoughts and comments are always welcome
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