Quanta Poems | Examples

The Goggle-Goop of Neglect

Forgotten quanta
the neglecton an anyon
zero in the math—
particles once discarded
unlock quantum computers

Rising unobserved
they shimmer in golden glass
zig-zagging unseen—
how was brilliance unnoticed
in gobble-goop of a yawn

I too drift unheard
neglected in crowded rooms
my pulse fading slow—
a particle in shadow
longing to be recognized

Bliss

what quanta of bliss can we hold
of God’s sublime bliss magnetism
within this form that’s made of dust
that refracts light in body prism

bliss rapture is soundless thunder
giving rise to benign cool heat
causing involuntary spasms 
that breath by breath within repeat

currents that do not ebb with time
which transmutes us as living light
enabling us to bilocate 
teleports soul to heaven’s height

bliss, the pull that takes us to God
manifests in hearts that are pure
who in stillness invoke God’s grace
egoless souls who are demure

Wait, What Happened?

Wait, What Happened?

This Happens With Every Molecule
Instantly, All The Time
A Decision Is Made
Usually A Common Decision
With A Dash Of Maybe
Let's Try This!
Unprepared.
Now.

Molecule? I Don't Mean Cells...
That's Too Far To Stretch Anyway
So What's The Point?

 Queen Quanta Moves A Serpentine Head. 

Look out.

No. MOLECULE... then down to 
Elements, then subparticle to
Subparticle That...
It's ALL Alive, I Mean...
Where Does It Dis-associate?
Were You Looking?
Well, Then It Changed.

Now! NOW. NOW!
In Perfect Balance
A Puzzle Unfolds
Perfection Again
Never The Same
Still Perfect

Take That.

So.

What's Not To Appreciate?

Hmm?

-Gray Squirrel

05-28-2025

Human Limitations

Ancient maps,
streaked with stars,
charted paths unknown.
But oceans are vast,
a whispered warning:
the world too wide.

Stars explode,
a symphony of light,
a universe in flux.
But what is hidden
behind that cosmic cloud?
Our minds yearned,
but our vision blurred.

Humanity delves,
with sharpened minds,
seeking to unlock
nature's hidden code.
Yet the universe
whispers in quanta:
a mystery endures.

Concrete canyons
climb for the heavens,
our aspirations are vast.
Yet, the earth gasps,
her lungs constricted,
our impact lingers.

Our minds reach,
but grasp at phantoms,
caught in the cycle.
To create and destroy,
then recreate,
the endless dance.

To see ourselves
in the starry void,
is to recognize,
both vast potential,
and finite flaws.
For even stars
have a final burn.

We are creatures
of yearning and longing,
ever searching,
forever bound,
to the dance of the universe.

labyrinth of thought

In the labyrinth of thought, where neurons weave,
A cosmic dance, where perceptions deceive.
Synaptic constellations in a quantum trance,
Reality's illusion, a cerebral dance.

Thoughts, elusive particles, in strings entwined,
A kaleidoscope of consciousness, enigma defined.
Perception's prism, refracting the known,
In the quantum realm, where ideas are sown.

Metaphors meld with quarks in a linguistic storm,
Words, like quanta, their own rules deform.
Similes spiral in a cerebral ballet,
In the quantum reverie, where concepts sway.

Dimensions fold, and dreams intertwine,
A surreal tapestry of the conscious mind.
Parallel verses in linguistic rifts,
In the quantum theater, where cognition lifts.

Time, a vagabond in the neural expanse,
A non-linear journey, a cognitive dance.
Memories echo in quantum refrain,
In the cerebral cosmos, where echoes wane.

So, let the mind wander in quantum allure,
In the synaptic galaxy, thoughts mature.
A superposition of ideas, a mental climb,
In the quantum reverie, where universes rhyme.

Who Am I

That
we are
cognisant
at this moment,
within this matrix,
is all we are sure of,
since even if it’s a dream,
attention held in time quanta
embraces and releases life’s pulse,
being movement of objects in space-time.

Knowing that our awareness oscillates,
even dying out during deep sleep,
we should not exist, yet we do,
which compels us to infer,
that form is an object
and we are formless,
feeling by touch,
realm dual,
here and
now.

Essence

My feelings are mosaic,
scattered and multi-colored.
There is no set pattern in the artwork
and no meaning in each separate pane.
Only the whole surface memorable.
Each shard of broken mirror
reflects a parse of the whole.
When pieced together the total vision,
though tattered, comes into clearer focus.
Reflection, a study of the conscious.
Moments of time tell no tale.
Vignettes of a larger tome
monopolize space that holds no fullness,
no revelations of intensity,
dramatism, lyricism, poeticism.
I demand everywhereness,
unbound illimitedness.
Totality of my essentialism
wherein I exist in absoluteness. 
my assemblage as a full complement.
Quanta on quanta. Wholeness.
Unequivocally me.

When Doves Cry

Each time the doves cry 
my tears fail to fall 
Like mist they hover 
within the white squall
Storms can pass on over 
or forever stall
Makes no difference now 
I’m inside the eye’s wall

Fly away my love 
they say you’ve grown wings 
Use them to climb high 
past where reason sings
Soar outside of time 
find what heaven brings 
Let me cry with doves 
embrace each tear’s sting 

Earthly dreams are over 
to the quanta they go
No darkness or light 
grey areas are aglow 
Fledgling grief ensues 
feeding off my woes
I taught the doves to cry
just to let you know… 

Dedicated to
My Dad and Sinéad O’Connor
(The doves cried for both)

Quantum Virtues

The cosmos consists of infinite
        infinitesimal interactions
        of particles and energy.
The largest everything
        composed of smallest nothings.

An inner conviction rising above swirling seas of doubt.
A flickering candle pushing back shadows of twilight.
A kind word healing sorrows from the past.
Such elemental components
        of faith, hope, and love,
        are the smallest quanta of virtues,
        frail molecules of morality
        when isolated and alone,
        but when working collectively,
        in soulful synergy,
        emerge stronger,
        grow larger,
        sing louder,
        march bolder,
        connect wider,
        in one individual,
        with another person,
        then more people,
        and multitudes,
        among nations,
        joining together,
        gaining unity,
        multiplying power,
        moving mountains,
        transforming our world,
        and changing the cosmos.

Living In Deaths Void

life turns tables if not the tide ~ helps to bail death out over the side 

  when all life sinks death itself dies ~ quanta pours back in to fill the void 

    just to be clear what this implies ~ a universe needs death to reprise 


By
David Kavanagh

Mind Trap

one by one, as we join the dots
attention quanta, in small lots
relies on memory recall
both pleasant and fears that appall
flummoxed by life’s Gordian knots 

19-May-2023
__________

Bitsize Contest no 64 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line. Gauthier

Smoke Without Fire

 Smoke without fire

attention held in packets of time
each quanta a hypnotic trance
to live in it fully by immersion

thus choosing drop in awareness
why for should we not delight
upon waking up in the void

sans attachment, as a bliss mist
dwelling in but not of the world
ephemeral life is but smoke

19-January-2023

Zen Mode

attention fixated in quanta of time
each packet a hypnotic trance
gluey friction inbuilt in duality
it's been fun but we're done

or so we imagine
as a subtle desire
mirroring aversion
signalling bondage

the rabbit hole goes in deep

04-November-2022

Elusive Poacher

He drank a glassful brandy,
All over again randy, 
Then tried a little Quanta 
And soon began to banter
"I'm a Poaching Trespasser,
In a Property, Racer,
Moving at a clean canter, 
No halting by your Mantra...

Often watching Lawful Pace, 
A keen eye on Owner's Face
To hellfire not let loose,
Owner to reject a truce,
My poaching finger first list
For those to receive hard first!

A full glass of Quanta 
By a self - acclaimed Santa
Dwelling on the new exploit
Of the Decidedly Spoilt.

Nothing Like Diabetes

Nothing like Diabetes!
Roger has been quite at ease:
A Devoted Yam Planter,
Who stops to drink Sweet Fanta,
To Raw Energy increase
And Fine Harvest not decrease…

Fairy Tale Diabetes! 
Roger’s breaths not in wheezes. 
He had, too, been on Quanta;
A Sure Double Strength Granter; 
You won’t Helping Hands tell “Please!”
How would it get in: Disease?

Roger too is a Rice Planter,
Who work suspends for Granta:
A drink for Clearest Vision, 
Against all Mind Division
That would breed Plain Confusion;
Male Child gives after Fusion 
Low Sperm Count Quick Revision… 

Fanta has results produced, 
Granta more intake induced; 
Nothing like Diabetes! 
A Paul, too, has been at ease!

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