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THE NEAR DECLINE OF PHYSICS
DUE TO ITS UNDRESSED TERMS

The quarks, those constituents of the orgy
Playfully bound within the nucleons’ chamber
Are named up, down, strange, charm, bottom, and top,
The last two once being called beauty and truth;

However, when just one of a type was contained
It became referred to, say, as a naked beauty,
And thus nude tops & bottoms their charms revealed—
To ever be in closeness binding, and bonding,

So they even tried just u, d, s, c, b, and t
To prevent some ultimate collapse of physics,
But the truth of the flavors beneath the veils
Remained as the sheerest vision preferred.

So we have these vibrant dancing ladies:
The naked heavyweight top, charming up,
Down, the strange beauty of the raw truth,
And a bare bottom just around and behind.

They gyrate, spinning their charms, twirling
In the universal dance of stunning motion,
The polarity sometimes reversed,
Whirling, their bottoms up and tops down.

And then there are Eden’s many colors,
In this flower garden filled with flavors,
Such as red bottom beauties, blue tops,
And magenta undulations unstopped.

Gluons are the bees of the flower beds,
Carrying pollen back and forth to bond
The many relationships that make
This loved world go ‘round as reality.

Eyed in views that probe the fundamental,
Quarks strangely swirl in and out of sight,
Pulsing, throbbing with elemental delight,
Back and forth—the love-made life of eternity.

These attractions in the altogether denuded
In the buff became the strong force manifest
That these mother-nature-naked terms exposed
To denote the stark beauty of truth uncovered.

THE ENTRANCING DANCING

They were all dancing within love’s treasure vault
Within the framework of the broadening thought,
The lights pulsing and the waves reverberating,
Where the good times had become everlasting.

Tribal primal field currents were raging
From speakers of the energy matrix pounding;
They whirled and twirled as loving gestalts
Of sentient consciousness knowing no halt.

There were rhythms of constant contraction
And expansions of bosom-energy projections
Converted to scalar waves of blinking attraction,
As fission and fusion beckoned the connections…

Ever forming in this Omni-sound emporium,
Where tone waves vibrated in waves of creation.

“THREE QUARKS FOR MUSTER MARK”

Naked quarks would really love to go wild and dance,
But there’s only a finite amount of energy and chance;
So they would spiral out of control,
Having quite a blast!

Such they’ve been confined within the proton—
To last.

They’re made bottoms-up;
Can we see them tops-down, a go-go?

No, for the quantum censor protects the charm show,
Their strange beauty and flavor bound up and down,
For the proton is much immune to disturbance around.

CHARMS

A new kind of microscope
That works via gravitational waves
Has revealed the actual interior
Of a quark for the first time.

The charming beauty
Of the ultimate truth
Is that ladies are
In charge of the universe!

WE ARE MOST FREE WHEN
WE ARE ASYMPTOTICALLY CO-JOINED

The strong family unit, as the three quarks,
Is bonded by the power of its grouping,
But, loses identity if the home breaks—
Other pairs soon forming after divorcing.

Or comes the prison of solitude,
Chained to isolation with fortitude,
Floating, lost, without effects of affects,
Losing the identity conferred by others.

Within the proton, gentleness becomes strength,
For the members are free to explore at length,
Never smothering, but building unity,
The unit’s direction adding to the one.

The strong force grows weaker near the quarks,
And so we may observe them someday,
Shining in their primordial glory—
The beginning of all things composite.

Identity is not lost in the co-joining—
True loves don’t crowd the hearts of the others,
But, rather, look outward, in the same direction,
Close, joined, but don’t block the others’ section.

It is a seeming arithmetic violation,
That in summation we become greater;
We don’t merge, having supported freedom,
Yet still share the same good vibrations.

Love matures when partners let it flow beyond,
Free to wend its way to places dear and fond.
Love’s butterfly prospers when winds blow free;
Unconditional love never binds—it bonds.

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