In The Foam Poem by Denis Mair

In The Foam

Rating: 5.0

A long time ago, deep down in the well of vacuum fluctuations, there were nodes that found themselves whirlygigging at the intersection points of symmetrical wave functions. They had to interweave in the moment to preserve their coherence, so any sense of discreet presence quickly went off into widely distributed fluctuations, yet in a sense all the nodes became one big presence. This process happened again and again, building up layers of interplay as the nodes subsumed each other in a thousand different ways. At one level there was intention to persist, but in order to persist they did amazing acrobatic jumps inside the others' outsides, interconverting and sharing their inner states, with a great many jumpers in one jump, and each of them jumping a different way. Meanwhile the discreet presences were always going deeper into the well, then cycling back around to areas of intersection. They all belonged to one great presence but they were clear about the ways they exchanged inner and outer states. Though they were one, the individual nodes sought a rotation toward persistence, and for a moment that rotation was very tight. They wanted the alternation that took them away from themselves not to pull so heavily, and they wanted the heaviness of that force to rotate around and come down on their presence, so when that force turned they were hammered into steady persistence, but it wasn't steady presence, because presence was always a mystery that gathered of itself. So those persistences were hammered over time, and they sank toward matter, until they became a sluggish, infinitely dampened reducing valve for all the far-flung scintillations... until they just sat there. They just sat there and their existence turned into drama... a frozen stage-mask into which infinite scintillations were feeding at every moment. The persistences became pawns in countless simultaneous games, and the presences swapped them back and forth, learning to play with them like pearl pinballs. At this point those coalescences just sat there recoiling internally from the recent impacts, and they had tremendous vibrations internally, but their form would not let them do the multiple simultaneous interpenetrative dances of their origins. They were drained of presence, but their vibrations were attuned to each other, so they could begin combining their forms, and they easily made forms on top of forms, until there were many levels of form, and from somewhere presence was drawn in to inform them as the clumping of forms continued. To make this happen, they had to know how to subside. To subside means to let the coalescence happen freely. To subside means to make preparations as the presence approaches. The presence will not come from afar: it has always been near. And on our level we are also building a medium that can hold the presence. Each thing coalesces according to laws of the medium on its level. On the level above us, other laws will begin to operate. We don't know at which level the laws of presence kick in. We don't know where laws of medium end and laws of presence begin. We are embraced from above and below. Below there were persisting nodes that thrived on being battered by wave functions, out of which emerged our platform of form. From up above we are embraced by presences that grew beyond our platform; they embrace us in a different way than from below. In this way, the world tree bears fruit through us, finding its way back to the ethereal.

Sunday, September 24, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: quantum mechanics
I am trying to imagine what might have happened in the space-time foam before physical matter coalesced into being.
Bri Edwards 10 October 2017

but i read the Poet's Notes. thanks. and i'll forward to Brian Johnston who has a physics background and some of his poems deal with physics in part. bri :)

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Bri Edwards 10 October 2017

Truthfully, i only read to the third line or so, soooooooooooo i can't give a well-informed comment. it was looking a bit foreboding to me, a simpleton. so i'll look at one or two others. ;) bri :)

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Tom Billsborough 26 September 2017

A most intriguing and exciting account of the uncertainty principle. Actually, Denis, I think this is one of the best poems I've read in the very long time. The coalescing and dissolving of your images are genuinely poetic. I'm a great admirer of St Jean Perse who uses prose poems to great effect and this poem on an important subject is equally effective.

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Kumarmani Mahakul 24 September 2017

Amazingly imagined perception is wisely presented in this space-time foam poem.10

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