Here's my unrelated-to-the-type bit of poetry:
String Theory and the Universe-as-Hologram Postulation
Scientists struggle to satisfy
Limitless questions,
The answers of which they ignore.
Who are we? How did we come to be?
Why are we here? What shall we become?
You wish to discover the nature of
The universe in all its sweeping majesty
Without attributing it to the one Person
Capable of accomplishing the work.
Symphonies of light and rock, threnodies of gravity and gravel
And life in all its vast array
Worlds infinitely complex and varied.
Our own planet
Stands unconquered by Mankind.
Of course you scramble about trying to cram
The cosmos' breathtaking scope
Into tiny theories too small and cramped.
Now you say the universe consists of one giant hologram
Based on String Theory
And generally uniform cosmic heat
A neat contrivance that fits your puny postulations
That makes your equation tally.
A giant hologram, you say?
Seriously?
Do you also believe they staged the moon landing?
And how would
This idea fit
With your pilot-less
Big Bang theory?
Who made the hologram, I ask
If there is no one wielding the hammer?
If the universe merely
Burst into intricate being
And infinite variety
By itself?
The odds don't even compute.
Hologram? The theory must keep
God giggling at man's preposterous folly
What of Mars, which even yet bears the lacy tracks
Of tiny tin toy man-made Rovers?
Saturn's Titan wears a probe from which
Only fifteen years past surface images
Streamed through space towards Earth.
What of Luna, where Man's flags
And footprints etch the dust?
Hologram? I think not.
You, the blind,
Cannot comprehend
The magnificence God wields
For your own hands and minds echo with relative emptiness.
Too small to encompass the thought
That God, an Immortal Being in all His puissant majesty
Wielding power you cannot call up nor conceive
Could form the vast spaces and fill them
With teeming life, water, and light
Intricate traceries set in eternal motion
Built to spectacular design
A myriad ordered stars
And planets.
And Mankind.
What of us?
Was ever a man generated out of
Raw building block molecules,
Made solely by the hand of Man?
No.
Not man nor animal nor smallest particle
Has man manufactured by his own hand.
Has any man set even one real planet spinning in orbit?
No.
Junk and a Spacelab.
"Thus no person can," you say with the
Incredible effrontery
Of a child with his hands
Over his ears.
I say
OPEN YOUR MINDS.
©2020 by H. Linn Murphy
Today we're doing Terse Verse. You can learn about it here. Here are mine:
For when you want to lose your mind:
Mime Time
What happens when you leave the greens on the table over night?
Pallid Salad
When you take your boy to the barber shop:
Heir's Hairs
When you forget to bring the dog back inside:
Dog Fog
