I was thinking about the way things look, and how physics itself is counter-intuitive. Now, mind you, this was during the end of physics class, so I was also quite spacey. Out of me burst a poem, one of my only recent ones with some form of rhyme scheme.

“On Looks”

Left alone, itself surmise

The universe will improvise

With classic clouds and gravitons

Black-holes, space-time, and photons

With all of this in stellar mix

It’s hard to tell what’s which from which;

Photons in black shadow’s hole,

Reality lost is space-time’s goal

Then suddenly it rearranges -

The universe makes several changes

Now everything is inside-out

And upside down and roundabout!

The universe’s resurrection,

Although it changes our perception,

Never was the bane of mind.

The cosmos is the same sublime.

So what thereof on transformations,

Testing universal patience?

Of who is who and what is what,

The answer must remain in thought.