In a lab full of clutter and equations askew,
Sat a theorist with dreams, more than a few.
His chalkboard was crammed with hieroglyphic delight,
As he mused on the mysteries that kept him up at night.
With a wiggle of nose and a twinkle of eye,
He'd ponder black holes with a coffee-stained sigh.
"Perhaps they're just portals to realms of pure rhyme,
Where limericks loop in an infinite time!"
His theories were fancy, both quantum and queer,
Like dark matter made from invisible beer.
"Just think," he would say, with a grin quite absurd,
"If the universe sang, what would be the first word?"
He'd scribble equations with frenzied delight,
Connecting the cosmos with strings that were light.
"Super symmetry's fine," he would nonchalant say,
"But what if the quarks just wanted to play?"
With his head in the clouds and his feet off the ground,
He'd float through his thoughts where logic's unbound.
"The laws of physics," he'd state with a wink,
"Are merely suggestions, or so I do think!"
His colleagues would chuckle, some would debate,
But none could resist his whimsical state.
For in every equation, no matter how grand,
There danced a small notion, not quite planned.
So here's to the theorist, with his capricious grace,
Who bends spacetime with a Cheshire cat's face.
For in the realms where his theories do roam,
Each whimsy he pens feels just like home.
YOU ARE READING
Dimensional Doodles
PuisiThis collection is a tapestry woven from the threads of cosmic wonder and digital intrigue, each poem a distinct journey through realms where intellect and imagination collide. Dive into a universe where quantum whispers mingle with the syntax of th...
