Overheard in Cyberspace

2020-07-01

How the Axion Might Have Got its Name

The newest thing in the particle zoo,

it needed a name, and a perfect one, too.

Profs and their students all thought, day and night,

but nothing they mentioned was perfectly right.

So, all of the Science Guys sent out a plea:

"Send us a name to which all can agree!"

They started a website where all could suggest,

then started elections to see which was blessed.

A child of but ten was the one who proposed

the name that had won when the counting was closed.

But Physics rejected his "Boozy McBoson",

glanced at some laundry soap labeled as "Axion",

and they just went with that.

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License

Okay, see, I was listening to an episode of the podcast "Daniel and Jorge Explain the Universe" -- specifically, the one titled "What is the axion?". Daniel and Jorge started with some banter about how physicists name the particles they discover. After an interesting discussion of just what this hypothetical axion particle is -- if it exists at all -- Daniel explained how it got its name. The real story is not all that different from what I came up with here, except for the silly Internet voting idea.

2020-04-27

Thunder Meditation

Out on the porch at end of day,

hear the thunder, feel the spray,

Lightning ripples across the sky.

Sniffing ozone, here sit I

to watch the show.

Know the great power of wind and cloud.

Hear the thunder, awfully loud.

See the wind blowing things around.

Watch the hail and hear it pound

its wicked blows.

Still, it’s pleasant to sit down here.

Why no elemental fear,

hailstones falling, the size of dimes,

resting here and crafting rhymes?

Only God knows.

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.

2020-04-10

COVID-Insomnia

My restive brain a twitching heap,

I pray the Lord will soon send sleep;

and, as the clock ticks two, then four,

I pray the Lord will send some more.

It’s not that I’m upset or scared,

but only that my mind’s not spared

from thoughts that wriggle and ferment,

that come without express consent.

But maybe there’s a way to cope.

When, wide awake, I stare and grope

for thoughts to still my troubled head,

there’s something I can try instead.

So many folks are now beset

by hopelessness 'mid mounting debt;

so many sick and quarantined,

no matter how they’ve scrubbed and cleaned.

I’ll pray for those who come to mind;

for some, I know, are in a bind,

while others’ needs are hidden deep.

And then I bet I’ll get to sleep.

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License