Holding Patterns - National Science Week

Holding
Patterns
physics & engineering poems
The Science Made Marvellous Project
Holding Patterns
Physics and Engineering Poems
Science Made Marvellous
for
National Science Week 2010
edited by Brook Emery and Victoria Haritos
Project Editor: Carol Jenkins
The Poets Union Inc
© The Poets Union Inc
This book is copyright. A part from any fair dealing for the purposes of study
and research, criticism, review or as otherwise permitted under the Copyright
Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission.
Inquiries should be made to the publisher.
First published in 2010 by the Poets Union Inc.
PO Box 755
Potts Point
NSW 1335
http://wwww.poetsunion.com
[email protected]
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
Emery, Brook; Haritos, Victoria; Jenkins, Carol
Holding Patterns: Physics and Engineering — Science Made Marvellous
ISBN 978-0-9578564-5-5
Cover Design by Bird Creative
Printed by Pure Colours Digital Printing, Maylands, NSW.
Printing of this publication is also in partnership with RiAus —
visit them at http://www.riaus.org.au
This initiative is supported by the Australian Government as part of National
Science Week.
Contents
Voyager by Stephen Edgar
4
Dreaming at the Speed of Light by Stephen Edgar
5
Galileo's dance by P.S.Cottier
Singularity by David Mortimer Everything we’re made of by Tricia Dearborn A Sum Over Histories by Julian Croft The smallest articles of faith by Fiona McIlroy
Ars scientifica by Ron Wilkins
illusion by Miriel Lenore Gravity by Charlotte Clutterbuck A Christmas Concerto by Ron Pretty
galileo’s finger by Meredi Ortega
A Glass Against the Eye by Christine Paice Six Flavours of Quark by Magdalena Ball Flat-Pack by Carol Jenkins
Cloud Me by Carol Jenkins
Eclipse by Margaret Bradstock
Sculpture at Questacon by Erica Jolly
He walks upon the burning coals by Marcus Low Orthosmittia reyei by Jan Owen 7
Biographical Notes Credits
About This Project
The Editors
Cover Image 8
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10
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14
15
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Stephen Edgar
Voyager
Out here where light becomes an apparition
Dispersed and flecked among the turning pattern
Of dusts and crystals and ice-crusted shards
That form the heaven-haunted rings of Saturn,
This frail scintilla brushes in its arc
Their powders and records them and discards
A wake of earthbound signals through the dark
That hides the passage of its boundless mission.
Fainter and fainter, ever more delayed,
The messages return out of the sky
To Earth. And Earth exhales to outer space
Its own intelligence, not in reply,
The mortal messages that are conveyed
Out of the world and leave no earthly trace.
4
Stephen Edgar
Dreaming at the Speed of Light
Seen from that famous ray of light
Discharging from the town hall tower
On the last stroke of noon,
The hands would stand forever at that hour
As though the holocaust of blinding white
That set it all in train,
When present, past and future were triune,
Were come again,
The endless now on which the blessed take flight.
The falling autumn leaves would stall
Above the lawn, their futile red
A stationary fire;
The dog erupting from the pond would spread
In hanging glints its diamanté shawl
Of shaken spray midair;
The blue arc of the wave would climb no higher,
A gauze of glare
And water that would neither break nor sprawl.
And as that woman turned her head,
The streaming ripples of her hair
A painted banderole
Impastoed on the wind, she’d be aware
At once of all the living and the dead
And those whose lives would come
Embodied round her, bodying the whole
Continuum
Of all they had imagined and had said.
5
And every thought would undergo
This rallentando, every word
Would grind down to a halt
Midsyllable, interminably heard,
But charged with full intention even so,
And purity of tone,
Free from distortion and for none to fault,
None to condone,
A knowledge only for the blessed to know.
6
P.S Cottier
Galileo’s dance
Liquid turned hard, glass turned to heaven
and you saw that we must be mutable;
changed the rock sure eye of earth
into a speck, one amongst the masses,
all moving. They locked you down,
house-bound, a threat to galactic security;
to a solidity that had already mutated,
as they might have melted you on fire,
a terrorist of unrepentant reason.
So silly to say you were a still centre
from which ideas flowed. No, no,
you went far further; questioning the
questioner’s position, pulling security
blankets away from under fatty,
fixated minds of certainty.
Focusing,
describing detail,
you precisely put an end
to the lie that we are the answer to all.
Others would follow in the ark of wonder;
Charles waltzing hand in hand with Albert;
broad ramp providing access to genius
on wheels. Moving, always moving,
accelerating now in race-track science,
or rockets sifting star-flour for other, further Earths.
But you, with your glass, your eyes,
your paints, you showed the way.
Your gravity can still be detected,
for four hundred years is barely a blink,
a twitch in this dance without choreography.
Swinging on, we too shift, stare, move and parry
and recall long leaps first performed in Tuscany.
7
David Mortimer
Singularity
Causation is nowhere if
All the world is one event
Spring of a butterfly’s wing stiff
With no meaning in the cyclone’s course
And billiard-balls and planets sent
At angles skewed like letters in a name
Told like whimsies in a story
That accumulate but lay no claim
To deeper plays of force on force
Or formulae for simpler glory
More than the one continual unfolding
Awkward shape that always was
Already-all-of space and time and holding
Everywhere at bay the word — because
8
Tricia Dearborn
Everything we’re made of
comes from earth; we cry, returning
borrowed salt; we give our bone and muscle
back to the earth to suck, as ash,
as rotting flesh: that calcium atom in your skull —
star-fired, congealed to rock, dissolved
by rain, passed on to you, breathing blood
in your mother’s womb —
will settle in another’s bone some day
when your atoms range over mountains, rock
in the currents of distant oceans
no matter how steadfast, stock-still this life,
one day you will travel the world
9
Julian Croft
A Sum Over Histories
For Richard Feynman and A. D. Hope
Drawn from the die of the great zero of being
along the straight plumb line of becoming
our hero makes his quest at forty-five degrees
up the slope between life’s x and y axes.
There are the co-ordinates of ante and post quo—
A and B: the path between, a slow
and upward grind against a killing gradient;
he leaps the crumbling mid-point to the present salient.
Counting his steps, he takes stock at this station
on the painful way, notes the equation
of length and angle, despairs at the bodkin in his hand
and presses on to B against the running sand.
Here let us stop like Donne’s great prince in prison,
or Bunyan in his cell, in indecision:
the body leads one way, the righteous soul the other,
two eyes on space, on time the inner other.
Heisenberg could hopscotch from point to point in play,
others see thorny turnpikes as the way.
The poet chooses his own vademecum, the world
if there is time enough, then time to make his world:
Thrusting out of the yawning O, the black abyss,
the angel y of time, and our nemesis
the earthward sideways slide of the serpent x of space.
He writes, plots A and B with metaphor, a date, a place,
A known, B yet to come. But the road, the signs?
Like Donne’s flat map our life lines
stretch across the deserts and the flood plains of our palms
doused in sweats and dry in fever, calendars of harms.
10
In sinuosities, meanders, anabranches, in arrows and in leaps,
time makes its world lines across the deep:
probable connections, trajectories, parabolas proliferate
until their interfering patterns cancel all but the immediate.
These are the sums of all our histories combined,
the integral path of body and the mind,
a prison cell in Bedford, a coffin for a chastened bed,
the soul’s last flight, and the great gates opening ahead.
11
Fiona McIlroy
The smallest articles of faith
Once they were grains of sand
then particles or atoms
flowing on to wave theory
segue to the more recent
string theory
how our view of life
has matured
from narcissism
solipsism existentialism
individualism
to pragmatism
tribalism
fanaticism
patriotism (viz the Mexican wave)
where we are all indebted
and bonded by systems
of prohibition and moiety
followed by a more
playful interactive
view of the ties that bind
where loops intertwine
truth metamorphoses
into two of a kind
now we practice random
acts of kindness
between stockmarket
rises and falls
12
everything is knitted
into a universal blanket
in an act of creation
only gaia can second guess
finding the end of the ball
of wool becomes our best bet
short of cutting the Gordian knot
13
Ron Wilkins
Ars scientifica
All those ars poetica
about the agony of grinding out a poem.
I haven’t seen one
about the grim task of writing science.
The form prescribed – abstract, introduction,
methods, results, discussion, conclusions, references.
In that order.
Interpretations strictly quarantined from data.
No sinuous rhythms, lineation, emotive words, ambiguity.
No heightened language, imagery, symbolism.
Just simplicity and clarity. Words as functional as an axe.
A Roman legion trudging to do battle with a hypothesis.
Not in pursuit of truth, but consistency within the paradigm.
For do not different laws obtain outside the Empire limits?
Bold Ptolemy, Copernicus, Newton discarded on the way.
Impossible to prove a hypothesis; only to falsify it.
Theorems, algorithms?
Weapons to slay an axiom, but not to liberate the spirit.
How can a scientist elevate his words into a poem?
I don’t know.
14
Miriel Lenore
illusion
north-west on the road to Warakurna
a substantial range of mountains
where no mountains should be
I can’t believe they will break up
drift away dissolve in air –
my first sight of a fata Morgana home
of King Arthur’s shape-changing sister
unlike the pools on the road
when as a kid I followed the sheep
– I knew there could be no water
however real it looked –
nor my first sight of Aurora Australis
those colourful searchlights beamed
into the sky a wild sunset excess
no
the shock is closer to that moment
in Science class when I learnt
my solid desk
was mostly space
15
Charlotte Clutterbuck
quark:
1.
2.
3.
Gravity
a question mark
a hypothetical particle
(dialect, in Finnegan’s Wake): to caw or croak
If the earth rises
infinitesimally to meet
my foot as I run
along the escarpment
where Mt Solitary rises
from the early-morning fog
while a gaggle of white cockies
launch themselves for zest
into the valley, squarking
and a pair of black cockatoos
mutter gravely
in a white gum
about hoi polloi
and fly primly away
then I exert a pull
on every other body
in the universe
even Saiph and Rigel
the knees of Orion
or your hand curled
next to mine on the table.
16
As a radio telescope
picks up the hum
from the far side
of Aldebaran, your star
and astronomers listen
to the bass notes
of a black hole
take the measure
of a quark’s pulse
I feel your murmured
prayer against my heart
your steadying hand
on my chest. You draw out
my ideas, massage
the knots from my back
give me a ride
in your wheelbarrow.
I finish the wine
from your glass
take you to Mass
stroke your springy hair.
Almost timidly
you ask how I
can be good to you?
What else can I do
when the light from Antares
took six million years
to reach my pupil
as I hold you steady
on the station platform
your voice subzero
with interstellar space.
17
Ron Pretty
A Christmas Concerto
Light and clear day and so simple a goal – Robert D Fitzgerald
Talking to Paul last evening, forking
(with his turkey) stars down in front of me
travelling faster than my muddling mind can follow
about big bangs everywhere and nowhere
some billions of years ago
(the night before Christmas)
and all through space – everywhere and nowhere –
matter on the edge of being born:
stars and quasars, black holes and cosmic dust,
amoebas and troglodytes, gods and goslings
all grazing on that sudden flesh of nothing out of notime
sending the future spinning towards us
as every particle of matter is hurled away.
Impossible. And yet, says Galileo, it moves.
As Davies can understand. Redshift, blueshift
but it’s all moving away. From everywhere.
Imagine (he tells me) – if you can – a stellar condom:
the rubber surface expanding as you blow it up
every atom on the surface stretching,
the space between them stretching
as they speed away into the great vulva of the universe
(and each of us potential on its face
impatient to be free) leaking through some tiny
(impossible!) flaw in the membrane
just one small aberration
– the breaking of the waters –
– out of the crucible endlessly rocking –
to bring the whole design undone
always and all ways the matter
moving outwards and upwards and inwards
through curved time and space
(on the face of the membrane).
18
Nine tenths of the universe, Davies declares
is the weight of nothing speeding the stars:
it’s what we hear between
the stations of the Cross: nothing being passed
by matter being borne of gravity:
nothing is the matter
naked on the couch of space,
drawn at last into that black hole
that takes us to another crib,
another theory being born
of the beginning and of the end
at the elusive Higgs bosom.
For this is our steady state:
stretching membranes of theory
ever outwards, and sometimes finding
at the outer edge of strain before it snaps
intention and purpose, a nebulous
Figure of Eternity preparing his symbols
for the next big bang.
19
Meredi Ortega
galileo’s finger
the air shifted that day.
michelangelo died and you appeared
plucking your lute,
dropping spheres of ebony and porphyry from the sky
he might have painted you
measuring lucifer and finding the inferno,
weighing the universe in your little balance,
rolling the stars in your inclines
great blazing lodestones
like your eyes which
saw too much
imponderable bolt of sidereal black,
saturn’s vanishing ears,
our lamp nodding and swaying up there,
the many faces of venus,
the many lovers of zeus
you and your old discoverer
gazed too long at the sun,
much too long
giordano bruno looked so hard
he saw an infinity of worlds and burned
yes, some kind of god
still, they took your finger
like a common saint. it’s wizened now,
bedizened in crystal and gold
even so, you would know it
impudent and plumb
as though passion never dies
20
Christine Paice
A Glass Against The Eye
Imagine yourself some kind of brilliant star
dark glittering trophy –
some astronomer’s luck
a whole gutful of heaven
and he picks you - strange incandescent you
stony oblivious infinite you
abyss of wonder, lure of mystery
he names you after his belligerent dog
you’re his night time sensation
mercurial, mysterious ingredients for love
he calls the right journals
I was lucky to find her.
Amore amorata amorous
alpha omega oberon puck you can play it however you like
you exert such a thrill a pull a clamour
loneliness expelled in a heartbeat
the future is all he’ll ever have with you
and maybe a red dwarf baby
that’s what he’s going for
soul mate bright star firmament dweller
there is never an end to you –
extra terrestrial Romeo Juliet
glittering under his skin
foolish and brave like all dreamers
he stutters forth and tells why he loves you
you stare into darkness.
21
Magdalena Ball
Six Flavours of Quark
Up, down
strange, charmed
bottom and top,
that’s the six.
You know them; mapped them; found them when no one
else even thought to look.
I see them lined in pretty rows
well, not see as such
too small to see
but it’s almost like seeing.
The sweet reds; sticky greens; cooling blues.
like Italian ices I would lick
quick
as a kid
tongue stained to match.
Their imaginary flavours
conjure childhood
goggle eyed
against something entirely new
unfathomably rich
impossibly sophisticated.
There’s something decadent
in being given a choice
something sexy, even
in giving a mundane, elementary particle
such sensual connotations.
22
Carol Jenkins
Flat-Pack
Keats starts off his new life folding instructions for Ikea
flat-pack furniture, studies physics at night school,
buys a child ticket to take his bicycle
on a romantic train trip, begins to understand
negative capability in the railway overpass,
and folds things with poetry.
Out in Padstow, a 43 year old female cabalist,
who has squeezed a flat pack dark cherry veneer
computer desk into her apartment, unfolds
the assembly instructions, and finds a dark universe
is continuing to accelerate from the single sheet
of photon paper, which becomes – sequentially –
a bicycle, a child, a ticket and instructions
on how to live as, or on, or by, a cherry wood
desk, a farm, a tea chest and any planet
that has atmosphere.
23
Carol Jenkins
Cloud Me
Written on the 30th anniversary of The Selfish Gene
With the clouding factor of being here,
in this brilliant light, and not being with you,
the blue bouncing like love gone crazy around the room,
I stand on the scales, at sea level,
with all the gravity I can muster, divide by ten
and multiply by seven to approximate my liquidity,
that was once, and will be, pure cloud.
I read as thirty-eight litres of cloud potential,
thirty-eight litres of ebullient cumulus rising,
lapping through the water cycle I will be nimbus,
stratus, cirrus, altos, storm and ice.
We’ll mix, rise, condense together, travel and rain apart,
separate from the DNA that codes for bones and muscles
to tilt a head that might revert to thinking about clouds,
and needs a body to bear it.
While those little squirls of code, the selfish species subsets,
swim to extinction, my enduring water,
returning cloud shaped, will outlast all organic parts of me.
24
Margaret Bradstock
Eclipse
If the eclipse is a total one, the Moon will pass through
the umbra, or darkest part of the shadow, in about two hours.
The rim of the known moon
grew thinner and thinner, pared to rind,
as the black shadow passed across.
Tonight we watched from the steps
before Club races began.
Orange lights near Ryde swimming pool
flared diffusely, substitute orbs
in an alien galaxy;
warning flashes on homing planes,
bright points of stars
bored into the hemisphere of dark,
but no familiar moon.
Tonight you told me
your friend’s not your friend any more.
I could see it too,
the coolness, the sudden evasions,
her orbit changing.
During the eclipse the surface of the Moon cools at a rate
dependent on the constitution of the lunar soil, which is not
verywhere the same.
No man condemned to the moon
for gathering sticks on the Sabbath,
25
no thornbush or lantern here,
just the sudden disenchantment
of our projection of earth.
At night you’ll always find me awake
at the blue, blue hour
desolate as mirage, or the penumbra
of the shadow.
Tell me about it, Jesse.
26
Erica Jolly
Sculpture at Questacon
It looks like magic –
children are turning
a great stone sphere
this way and that
smoothly, easily.
Girls and boys are
moving this sunlit
glistening ball
floating above its base
laughing, splashing
delighting in their power
to change the direction
of this massive globe.
But it is not magic –
it is mathematics
and imagination
and water engineered
to raise solid granite.
27
Marcus Low
He walks upon the burning coals
He walks upon the burning coals,
Walking quickly enough to feel
No heat upon his dirty soles;
This is not fake, his science is real.
Upon the bed of nails, he lies;
He looks relieved, he looks well-rested;
No nail sticks-out, so he can rise
From where his surfaces were tested.
He walks on tightropes, catches fire,
Breeds glowing rabbits, fixes mowers,
Escapes from chains, feeds our desire,
Dividing science misfits and knowers.
28
Jan Owen
Orthosmittia reyei
Gnats
in clouds above the river’s sheen
loop in and out
the ceaseless maze they are,
being both particles of light
and waves of gnat,
thought’s tiny juggling feat
and more –
the whine of a new idea
at the bright meniscus
of mind.
On such an afternoon
Heisenberg might
have come to formulate
his Δx.Δp ≥ h/4 π:
delta x by delta p is equal to
or greater than
Planck’s constant
over 4 pi.
Uncertainly, I
pin down neither gnat nor thought
but strain
at this paradigm for a poem.
Over the gnats and me
marshmallow cumulus
sail by:
far off thought-balloons,
to us,
blank as eternity.
29
Biographical Notes
Magdalena Ball runs The Compulsive Reader. She is the author of Repulsion
Thrust, the novel Sleep Before Evening, The Art of Assessment: How to Review
Anything and four other poetry chapbooks.
Margaret Bradstock has five published collections of poetry, including The
Pomelo Tree (winner of the Wesley Michel Wright Prize), Coast (2005) and How
Like the Past (2009).
Charlotte Clutterbuck’s collection of poems, Soundings, was published by Five
Islands Press in 1997. She won the David Campbell Prize in 2009.
P.S. Cottier has written a PhD on animals in Dickens, a poetry collection
called The Glass Violin and a short story collection A Quiet Day. The latter two
were published by Ginninderra Press.
Julian Croft lives in Armidale NSW and has had a long interest in the
philosophy of science. He has published four volumes of poetry and a novel.
Tricia Dearborn has a BSc in Chemistry/Biochemistry, with Honours in
Biochemistry. Writing and science are both lifetime loves. Her first collection
was Frankenstein’s Bathtub, 2001.
Stephen Edgar has published seven books of poetry, most recently History of
the Day. He often draws imagery from scientific subjects.
Carol Jenkins first book Fishing in the Devonian was short-listed for the Anne
Elder and the Victorian Premier’s Prize. She runs River Road Press, publishing
audio CDs of Australian poets.
Erica Jolly: Five Bells (2005) published her essay ‘Poetry and Science in
Education’. In March 2010 Robyn Williams launched her book Challenging the
Divide: Approaches to Science and Poetry.
Miriel Lenore is an Adelaide poet who worked as a plant breeder many years
ago. She has published six books of poetry.
Marcus Low has self-published poetry and been published in science journals
The Helix and at the University of Sydney. He thinks that science is mysterious.
Fiona McIlroy takes her inspiration from reflection on relationships with the
inner and outer world. She published Taste of a Poem, Ginninderra Press, in
2010.
David Mortimer believes poems are for speaking aloud and carrying with us
– as thought, conversation, music, argument — they should entertain eye, ear,
mouth and mind.
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Meredi Ortega lives in WA and her work has appeared in various miscellanies. She
believes the universe is the best poem of them all.
Jan Owen’s sixth book Poems 1980 – 2008 appeared in 2008. She will attend the
Maastricht International Poetry Nights in October 2010.
Christine Paice has two collections of poetry, Mad Oaks and Staring At The Aral
Sea. She won the national Josephine Ulrick Poetry Prize in 2009. Her children’s
book, The Great Rock Whale, (Lothian April 2009), has been nominated for the Prime
Minister’s Literary Awards 2010.
Ron Pretty’s seventh book of poetry, Postcards from the Centre , was published in
2010. Until 2007 he ran the Poetry Australia Foundation and was Director of Five
Islands Press.
Ron Wilkins is a Sydney scientist who has published in literary magazines such
as Blue Dog, Five Bells and Quadrant. His personal poetry website is www.
fistfulofdust.com
Credits
“A Sum Over Histories": Julian Croft, Confessions of a Corinthian, Angus and
Robertson, Sydney, 1991.
“Christmas Concerto”: Ron Pretty, Postcards from the Centre, Profile Poetry, 2010.
“Cloud Me”: Carol Jenkins, Fishing in the Devonian, Puncher & Wattmann, 2008.
“Dreaming at the Speed of Light”: Stephen Edgar, History of the Day, Black
Pepper Publishing, 2009.
“Everything we’re made of ”: Tricia Dearborn, Frankenstein’s Bathtub, Interactive
Press, 2001.
“Flat-Pack”: Carol Jenkins, Fishing in the Devonian, Puncher & Wattmann, 2008.
“Orthosmittia reyei”: Jan Owen, Poems 1980 – 2008, John Leonard Press, 2008.
“Singularity”: David Mortimer, Fine Rain Straight Down in Friendly Street New
Poets 8, Wakefield 2003.
“Eclipse”: Margaret Bradstock, Muse Magazine, Feb. 2004.
“Six Flavours of Quark”: Magdalena Ball, Repulsion Thrust, BeWrite Books,
December 2009.
“Voyager”: Stephen Edgar, Meanjin, 2008.
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About This Project
Science Made Marvellous is a national collaborative poetry and science
project initiated by Carol Jenkins for the Poets Union Inc working in
partnership with National Science Week 2010, The Royal Australian
Institute of Science (RiAus), The Australian Poetry Centre, The State
Library of NSW, WritingWA, The Northern Territory Writers Centre,
Queensland Poetry Festival, The ACT Writers Centre, Friendly Street
Poets and The SA Writers Centre, The Tasmanian Writers Centre, The
Hunter Writers Centre, South Coast Writers Centre, New England
Writers Centre, David Musgrave of Puncher & Wattmann and Judith
Martinez of Bird Creative. This significant collaboration sees a stellar
program celebrating science in poetry as part of National Science Week
2010, with collaborators hosting thirteen events across Austalia involving poets, scientists and the public, with an audio program being broadcast in local and community radio stations and available as a download
from collaborators’ websites.
For a limited period, from National Science Week 14 August 2010 until
30 November 2010 the three titles in the Science Made Marvellous Series
will also be available as a PDF for free download from collaborators’
websites including the Poets Union at: www.poetsunion.com
The Editors
Thanks to the editors Dr Victoria Haritos, a biochemist who leads
CSIRO Entomology Division’s Biological Chemistry Team and Brook
Emery, Chair of the Poets Union, who have selected the poems in
this volume, and the accompanying volumes Law and Impulse and
Earthly Matters, of the Science Made Marvellous Series. Carol Jenkins,
as Project Editor, has put together all other text and materials for the
Science Made Marvellous Series.
Cover Image
The cover image is a photomicrograph of Didymosphenia geminata a
diatom known in New Zealand as ‘rock snot’. The field size of this
photomicrograph is 0.1 mm x 0.16 mm. The image is used with kind
permission of Ron Oldfield.
Ron Oldfield is a Senior Research Fellow, Department of Biological
Sciences, Macquarie University. This photomicrograph is part of a body
of work that reflects an elegant union of art and science. Technically
brilliant, Oldfield’s work is a product of teaching and research that has
won him the Eureka Prize and many international competitions.
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Thanks
The Poets Union gratefully acknowledges National Science Week and
the Australian Government for their assistance in funding Science
Made Marvellous. Thanks also to those who submitted poems,
the scientists whose work inspired the poems and the dedicated staff
and volunteers working with collaborating partners in writing centres,
poetry organisations, universities and agencies around Australia.
law &
Impulse
earthly
matters
maths & chemistry poems
biology & geology poems
The Science Made Marvellous Project
The Science Made Marvellous Project
These three slim volumes in the Science Made Marvellous Series
show off the rich entanglements of poetry and science. They celebrate
science with poems that are concise, witty, observant, wondering,
and warmly appreciative. Here is poetry not just as litmus, measuring
science’s absorption into our lives, but poetry that experiments with
science, in all its complex variables and hyperbolic hypotheses.
Carol Jenkins
For The Poets Union
The Poets Union Inc
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