Journey to the infinitesimal

By: Josh Spence (School of Physics and Astronomy)
Competition Year: 2017
Votes (6) | Comments (0)
< Previous     Next >    
Oops, I turn a dial too far. I feel a tingle up my arm.
This shouldn’t be happening. The room around me seems to grow.
Or am I shrinking? Size is all relative I suppose.
I have halved in size by now, the table top becomes a mystery.

Inches tall, the room is a vast wasteland around me.
The hum of primeval insects roars in my ears, I pray they are not hungry.
I glance around, this wasn’t how I’d imagined my day going.
It occurs to me my lab access may be revoked after this incident.

I stand smaller than a pinhead, barely visible to the naked eye.
I feel myself contracting, I dwindle into the infinitesimal.
Previously inconsequential clutter stands like a mountain range before me.
I enter a different world, simpler, more fundamental.

Bacteria swarm around me here. Drifting aimlessly from side to side.
Pulsating, liquiform orbs of gelatinous gloop.
I am safe from them now, for they are too big to harm me.
Their translucent membranes bulge, hinting at the infinite complexity inside.

My vision fades, the light can no longer enter my eyes.
Blackness envelopes me, the forces I feel on my body increase.
I realise it is the pull of the atoms themselves, dragging on my limbs.
The universe itself is tugging at me, in all directions at once.

I am so miniscule now, comparisons are meaningless.
It’s lonely down here, just the atoms and I.
My own microcosm to explore, incomprehensible to the giants above.
There’s plenty of room at the bottom.
Share this poem:
Register/Login to comment