Spinning stars, turning in and out
just as on that autumn night
when we watched nebulaic magnificence
blurry in the viewfinder
Vincent had looked up, seen
glowing dust obscuring stars
in clouds lit by particle winds
where radiation waves sculpt gas pillars
into magnificence
Copyright © 2023 Kim Whysall-Hammond
A Quadrille (a poem of exactly 44 words) written for Dverse tonight.
In the middle of the bright Atlantic
Floating on the swell between island volcanoes
Beneath reflective surface tension
Silvered gas bubbles catch the light
And, across the issuing rift
A long snake of data cable
Broken sheared twisted
As the gas breaks the surface
We hear voices
Blogs bubbling to the top
Instructions to buy or sell
A thousand tiny voices
Sparkling in the sunshine
Several parrot fish swim by
Next day when snorkelling
I fancy I hear fish blogging
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
This poem was first published by the wonderful Helen Ivory on Ink, Sweat and Tears: http://www.inksweatandtears.co.uk/pages/?p=12491
I’m delighted to tell you that two of my poems, “Singing the Cosmos” and “Hot Knife in Butter”, are now both online over at Soft Star Magazine. Both were written to this months theme of Aurora.
https://softstarmagazine.substack.com/p/singing-the-cosmos-and-hot-knife
“Singing the Cosmos” is an ode to cosmology and quantum physics, but please don’t let that put you off reading it!
“Hot Knife in Butter” is an attempt to describe the Northern Lights…..
Wetware software hardware
how hard do we have to be?
Programmed by the stochastic chatter of evolution
form fitting function,
almost.
Self replicating semi-autonomous robots.
purposed by deoxyribonucleic acid,
the software exists to
protect itself
not us.
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Today is Science and SF Monday — A poem each week which either has a science theme or is Science Fiction…..
Poor lost instrument, trapped in your tower
where the dome never opens from year to year.
They no longer use you to search the heavens.
Battered and bruised, missing parts,
you lurk in the darkness of your cage.
If only I could find glass plates,
unwrap them in the dark open the dome
set you free.
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Green rumbles rambles rolls and ripples
in all its shades and hues
rustles murmurs sways and drifts
floats on and under the waters of both
chill chalk stream and ocean
surfaces the land
spawns and augments tall trees
defines jungles, swamps, farmland
cools and shades, feeds and shelters
sparkled with daisies
strewn with buttercups
cut red with poppy wounds
Green is waste light reflected back from leaves
by the quantum machine of photosynthesis
that powers all life
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
‘Green’ was first published in the Environs issue of Snakeskin: http://www.snakeskinpoetry.co.uk/snake264.html
Mondays are Science and SF Mondays!
A poem each week which either has a science theme or is Science Fiction….
I am a rain drop.
Imagine raindrops
you see tears
but clouds do not cry.
Over England they excrete
ice crystals that melt
drop and tumble
balling, falling.
Surface tension
marries colliding drops
yet divorce is common.
Plummeting, flattening
rain discs hit the London pavement
lose their identity
in puddles and pools.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The Shape of Rain was first published at https://fourthandsycamore.wordpress.com/2018/07/05/the-poetry-of-kim-whysall-hammond/
Mondays are Science and SF Mondays! A poem each week which either has a science theme or is Science Fiction…..
Unimaginably ancient, preserving moments in time;
billion year old pebbles from unknown floods
bones fallen into an ancient abyss
ten thousand year old footprints along an English estuary.
Sitting on a rock, you touch time.
Rocks move. They melt and set, erode to dust
and then the dust settles
forms new rock over time almost unimaginable.
This undulating plain formed at great depths
was thrust up to mountainous heights
now lies placid for your walking comfort.
Go find a rock
and travel in time and space.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Today is Science and SF Monday — A poem each week which either has a science theme or is Science Fiction…..
We too are worlds
we live with a shimmer of species
our own biome
Fungi, bacteria, in their billions
live on our skin, our hair, and
in our folded writhing gut
Many species of microscopic mites
thrive in the pores of your face
tiny unseen spiders ride us from home to home
The deadly game of predator and prey
plays out across and within you
whether you are awake or sleeping
Kissing a loved one does not just give affection
but transfers life of many different sorts
from your lips to their cheek
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The unspeakable vastness
of the unconquerable dark
speaks to our hearts
where no harbour beckons
no port waits
A calling sky lids our lives
it shields, shelters
imprisons us
gravity the jailer to be overthrown
the well to climb out of
hand over hand
Climbing to where the only sounds are
a popping of particles
into matter phase
We will not see stars with our own eyes
nor hear the sounds of space
our travelling world
built of systems noise
ventilation hiss and engine thrum
will seep through our lives
even outside
suit noise and visors will hide
the photons trip
Yet unspeakable vastness
and unconquerable dark
will sink deep into our subconscious
refashioning our very selves
varying what is human
Will we wish to sink once more
into the trap of gravity
or shall we run with the particle streams
out into the dark?
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
‘Calling Sky’ was first published by Utopia Science Fiction in the April 2020 issue.
The Cheesesellers Wife 