Through the Wormhole, or Go Ask Alice

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Should you ever decide to visit a black hole,

fall perhaps, on your way in space

brace yourself, there could be sound

found there,

beware, oh!

No, not that you’d hear the song,

long as you might want to, but in space

bass notes aren’t heard at will

still, the black holes sing.

 

Those who study such things

(strings and theories and time)

minds more clever than my own,

tone academic, say space-time curves,

swerves, in a gravitational singularity.

 

But–

but should you survive,

alive, say after your starship takes a wrong turn,

learn this now,

somehow, look for the back door

for at its center

enter, and this leads to a wormhole.

 

There you’ll get “spaghettified”

Up-and-downsified, stretched, enlarged,

charged, or changed

rearranged, like Alice after she ate the cake,

mistake, or like the largest piece of pasta ever,

never say never, (I won’t judge) and then pushed whoop-de-doo

through the wormhole, You,

to another part of the universe.

 

I’d say, the sharpest trick ever,

whenever, yet not for me.

See, I prefer spaghetti to eat,

feet on ground, plate on table

stable, and able from there I

sigh, and gaze up high.

 

This is in response to Secret Keeper’s Writing Prompt

Using these words: Sound/Sharp/Clever/Judge/Still

I wrote an echo poem.

Here’s some information on “spaghettification”

And on the songs of black holes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Flickering Star

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Treasures locked away/ the vastness of space

deep inside her brain/ is a tempting mystery

little understood/ how to solve the puzzles

past, present, and future mingle/ and how do we know what tense to use

as the bright star flickers and becomes a black hole / we see the light only after it’s gone

 

This is a cleave poem in response to Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt.

 

This week’s words are: Tempt/Treasure/Tense/Vast/ Lock

A cleave poem is three poems. Each side is a separate poem, but together they form another poem. I can’t seem to format this correctly, so the last two lines on the right carry over to the next line.

 

 

 

 

The Jell-O That We Swim In

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“Different Flavors of Black Holes” Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/Yale University

 

Far away, in distances

measured by the speed of light

over a billion light-years

black holes collide and then merge,

rippling the space-time sea with waves,

distances shift, a small change

a bounce along our space-time

flexible, wiggly Jell-O,

flavors of the universe

in spectrum colors streaming,

cosmological redshift

 

In another galaxy,

music plays, people dance, laugh

multi-colored stars mingle,

then worlds collide, and death spirals

black density traps the light

until it vanishes, mostly

but for faint trails, streaming hope

rippling the space-time sea

like gravitational waves

 

In this article about the second finding of gravitational waves from black holes, researcher Gabriela González, said of space, “It’s like a Jell-O that we all swim in.”

Here is the sound of two black holes colliding: