The story of how Newton discovered the principle of gravity, or the story of him starting to ponder, it's one we've all heard before. Newton was sitting under an apple tree when one landed straight onto his cranium. Gravity is all around us. It gives us the tides and navigation. It's what keeps us tethered to Earth and what keeps us spinning around the sun. Gravity is a principle of life, one we cannot change, unless we take a trip to the International Space Station.
Welcome aboard our craft. We hope you enjoy your trip.
Welcome aboard our craft. We hope you enjoy your trip.
Constant Velocity
By: Galadriel Bond
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Circling.
Spinning. Coming in. Going back out. An elliptical dance. Spiraling around each other. Like binary suns. Twirling about the empty space between them. Waiting for the other to make a move. |
Circling.
Spinning. Coming in. Going back out. Pacing. Relentless pacing. Counting the seconds until one of them snaps. |
Circling.
Spinning. Coming in. Going back out. Delaying the moment it all comes crashing down. |
By: Rose Basu-Brown |
By: Jason Domingo |
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Sometimes my anxiety takes over. Palms sweating, body shaking and a lump in my throat. I feel cold and nonexistent. It feels like my feet are being swept off the ground and into the windy air. My thoughts run wild and I wish they could be pulled back to earth instead of space. I just want to feel grounded. I want to feel gravity's weight holding me to Earth. I don’t long to feel stuck, I long to feel safe.
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Gravitational pull, pulling me to the surface. The ground level.
Raging fire within me. Anger fueling inside of me, fueled by the raging flames. Vanished into the night, I get off the ground. Today is a new day. Yesterday is in the past. |
Apples Fall
By: Rowen Schofield
I reached up and plucked an apple from of the tree’s winding branches. They rustled in the light breeze. The warm summer days were slowly transitioning into fall. I decided to sit a while and enjoy the fading summer heat in the shade of an apple tree. I plopped down if front of the tree. A sleepy feeling came over me and I began to lean back on the trunk. The slight impact of my back hitting against the tree must’ve been the last straw on the proverbial camels back, the last push needed to dislodge that apple from the stem upon which it had been hanging for dear life. The apple came falling down. At the last moment, I opened my eyes for a second and time seemed to slow. I watched as the apple came hurtling straight down at me, almost as if it was being pushed or pulled by some invisible force. This felt important, significant for some reason, but I couldn’t quite place it. And then it hit me. Square in the nose, it bounced off my face and landed on the ground. I sat there, hand clutching my nose for a second before standing up and shrugging off the strange feeling, the strange questioning of why the apple falls. The Apple falls because apples fall, that’s just how it is. I decided to sit somewhere else.
By: Olivia Ladell |
Gravity Is Real
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My cousin Claire, a dreamer she,
Who dreamed of worlds of fantasy, Of swimming with the octopi, But her biggest wish: to fly. She watched the planes soar with the clouds Nestlings leaping, mama proud. Monarchs kissing flower beds, Owls awaking sleepyheads. My poor Claire longed with all her being To fly with the animals she was seeing, As the wide-eyed girl stared day and night At all these objects taking flight. Then one day an idea had Claire As she watched an aeroplane in the air “If planes have wings, then so must I, I’ve found the key on how to fly!” She raided the recycling bin, And piled up cardboard with a grin. She gathered all those rigid things, And glued them up to make some wings. Put them on and raced all cheery Outside to test her newfound theory Gathered up all force, and jumped Only to come back on her rump. Giving up, unhappily, She cried, “Oh, useless gravity!” |
By: Hinata DerouinI want to be an astronaut
And grab the stars of the speckled sky Float amongst the fireflies of the night And live in the beauty of endless space But down here on Earth I am distraught Heavy chains pull me down and my smiles turn wry And though I try and try to take flight Gravity always keeps me down here in place |
Balloons
By: Eja Sharma
There was once a girl who collected balloons.
A peculiar hobby for sure, precarious to be learned.
There was nothing particularly special about balloons, and nothing at all regarding the girl. She was a pale, wide eyed face in a sea of pale, wide eyed faces. And balloons were nothing more than balloons. Rubber or latex, nylon at best.
As such, we live in a world where balloons aren’t special and surely little girls are of no short supply. But together, there was something different, there was, about a girl who collected balloons.
A peculiar hobby for sure, precarious to be learned.
There was nothing particularly special about balloons, and nothing at all regarding the girl. She was a pale, wide eyed face in a sea of pale, wide eyed faces. And balloons were nothing more than balloons. Rubber or latex, nylon at best.
As such, we live in a world where balloons aren’t special and surely little girls are of no short supply. But together, there was something different, there was, about a girl who collected balloons.
Heavy
By: Thomas Starzomski
It all came crashing down at once. A crushing feeling, as if the weight of the world lay upon him, that all-too familiar feeling of loss, and of pain. He had been keeping it in check until then, but he couldn’t anymore, all of the emotions he had been bottling up through the years flooding back in at once. He broke down, a whirlwind of emotion all coming back, orbiting around before crashing into his skin, marked with scars and bruises. Tears began to flow from his eyes, drawn from his eyes to his cheeks, then to his chin. As he lay in his bed, late, late at night, he wondered if things would change. They haven’t yet, so why now, he thought. He couldn’t move. Having not slept at all or eaten anything beyond a single bagel for the past two days, he had no more energy left. His limbs felt heavy, and he was so tired. He had been trying to sleep for the past few hours, with no luck. You could be doing so well, but look at you. Broken, battered, bruised and alone, he told himself, as he continued to sob. The emotions continued to fill his mind, continuing to overwhelm him. Then, all at once, he fell asleep. He was so tired, so lethargic and so broken, that sleep seemed to come easy, comforting him in it’s arms.
The next morning, he awoke to the cold morning air. It licked at his face, bringing him to consciousness once again. He checked his phone. 6:18. Putting it back on his desk, he turned around, pulled the blanket over himself, and let sleep envelop him again. After all, he didn’t have school today, so what reason is there to stay awake, he pondered, still-half asleep. Bzzt. Grumbling, he turned back around to check his phone once more, expecting another spam message about the bank account he didn’t have, or a CashApp message for the wrong number.
“Good morning :)” it said. Cracking a faint, true smile, for the first time in what seems like forever, he opened the message.
The next morning, he awoke to the cold morning air. It licked at his face, bringing him to consciousness once again. He checked his phone. 6:18. Putting it back on his desk, he turned around, pulled the blanket over himself, and let sleep envelop him again. After all, he didn’t have school today, so what reason is there to stay awake, he pondered, still-half asleep. Bzzt. Grumbling, he turned back around to check his phone once more, expecting another spam message about the bank account he didn’t have, or a CashApp message for the wrong number.
“Good morning :)” it said. Cracking a faint, true smile, for the first time in what seems like forever, he opened the message.
By: Isabelle Swedlow |
By: Basil Sinclair |
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Oh Gravity oh Gravity the silly thing
It makes the birds spread a wing Don’t think of it as thing Cause it can happen in the spring Gravity can help you out It’ll keep you on the ground without a doubt Because as soon as you step out Without gravity you’d have to shout You’d be flying in outer space Without gravity there would be no base It won’t be fun in outer space With Gravity you will stay in place At 22 Newton discovered the fact That Gravity was not an act He was also named knighthood, but that’s beside the fact That Newton was very exact People can take gravity one of two ways Literally, like the the true meaning of “gaze” Or metaphorically like seeing things in different ways But Gravity will always have praise Have you ever wondered why you can’t fly Or why your tears go down when you cry Maybe you tried to fly And that idea was worth a try Many people have tried But Gravity defied It would boost your pride if you tried Because we all need a guide Gravity is a silly thing But it helps to bring The joy to everything Oh gravity oh gravity the silly thing By Arson McTaggartWho would dare to coax such winds?
To leave the shores of such knowledge, such stability, the feeling of grass beneath one’s feet, sand that scratches your toes and vines that prick your ankles? “The winds are ferocious,” they said, they twist and turn to a will not their own. But the birds do fly. Do dive into unknown shores. Not to fall or to feel the leaves beneath their shoes. But to soar farther. They do not beckon to what chains us down, to what keeps us from the stars and the silver moon that do shine. I do beckon to thee that do not beckon, do take me from where I stand, from which binds me to fall, to feel something beneath my skin. Do take what I have and what I have I do offer, and what I offer is thee to your winds, what I do store within a body you do not yield. You can grab me but I feel no hands, no skin nor flesh or heartbeat. From which my jailer do not yield neither. I must trust the anchors and wings you bear to not choke me. Though what do bound me do tighten around what flesh I do offer, with no release you do stay. Like chains beneath the wind. As the birds do fly by. |
It’s funny what you think about thousands of light-years away from Earth. You would think I would be worried about your family or your friends or maybe even whether you left your oven on before you got on the spaceship.
But I was worried about the rocks. “The rocks?” My crewmate Sammy furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong with the rocks?” “I don’t know.” The little screen clamped to the wall flickered. “There’s just… they’re not right.” Sammy laughed. “To be completely honest with you, Chrissy,” he chuckled, “rocks are the last things I’m worried about today.” SPLAT
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Bring Me That Horizon
By: Heidi Elder
I stare up at the sky. Big, white clouds, drift slowly across its azure canvas. The sun appears and disappears lazily behind them every so often in a game of peek-a-boo. I alone am out of place in this picturesque design.
Falling. Gravity dragging me towards the hard ground where nothing but darkness awaits me. The wind so loud in my ears that I can't make out whether there are people watching from below or not. I wish they wouldn't. It would be a shame if they caught the worst of the fall. Trying to catch me, trying to reassure me even as my skull fractures upon concrete. Even as my own blood drowns me when it's the one thing that's supposed to be keeping me alive.
Or maybe there isn't anyone there. It wouldn't be a huge shock. After all, 2:30 pm on a Wednesday isn't exactly what you'd call rush hour. Still, the idea that no one would be there to witness my last breath... makes me feel lonely somehow. In this expanse of space, I'm barely here. A nameless, faceless, whisper in a hurricane of bodies shoving each other out of the way to make it to the top of the hill first.
So intoxicated are they by the rush of achievement that they don't even notice that they haven't touched the horizon even once. That it will always be, one more step, one more promotion away. I must admit I lost sight of that horizon some time ago. But right here, right now, staring up at that wide expanse of sky, I think I might be able to believe in it once again.
Maybe there will be a new horizon in the dark. Maybe I will finally be able to reach.
Falling. Gravity dragging me towards the hard ground where nothing but darkness awaits me. The wind so loud in my ears that I can't make out whether there are people watching from below or not. I wish they wouldn't. It would be a shame if they caught the worst of the fall. Trying to catch me, trying to reassure me even as my skull fractures upon concrete. Even as my own blood drowns me when it's the one thing that's supposed to be keeping me alive.
Or maybe there isn't anyone there. It wouldn't be a huge shock. After all, 2:30 pm on a Wednesday isn't exactly what you'd call rush hour. Still, the idea that no one would be there to witness my last breath... makes me feel lonely somehow. In this expanse of space, I'm barely here. A nameless, faceless, whisper in a hurricane of bodies shoving each other out of the way to make it to the top of the hill first.
So intoxicated are they by the rush of achievement that they don't even notice that they haven't touched the horizon even once. That it will always be, one more step, one more promotion away. I must admit I lost sight of that horizon some time ago. But right here, right now, staring up at that wide expanse of sky, I think I might be able to believe in it once again.
Maybe there will be a new horizon in the dark. Maybe I will finally be able to reach.
By: Abigale McGhie |
How To Die In Space
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she looks at me from across the room.
she's walking towards me, a look in her eye like i've never seen before. i've loved her since seventh grade, and she's walking towards me. the air feels thin. gravity seems suspended, she's walking towards me, i'm floating towards her, we meet in the middle, she opens her mouth. this is it, she loves me too, like i love her- "oh, excuse me! you're standing in front of the drinks." |
due to the fact that there is no up or down in space (as these are relative terms we use only on the face of our needy, needy planet), you cannot fall in space.
that being said, i am falling. due to the fact that the ground starts at my feet and continues farther than my mind can stretch, you cannot fall to the centre of the earth. that being said, i am falling. due to the fact that you are a lazy, narcissistic asshole who has never once bothered to give me the time of day or spare me a kind word, i cannot fall for you. that being said. i am falling. |
Of Creatures and Creation
By: Elliotte Hall-Plourde
over the ages and ages, humanity became very sure of their beliefs. it was the only way anything could move forwards. the man in the sky. the gods of elements. war. farming. many dropped their beliefs in favour of science. this is that, this plus this, take this away and you’re left with that. endless equations made way for more discoveries. evolution in every sense of the word.
they swore by it, and nothing else. pangea. simplicity. ginormous roaming lizard-like beasts. an irreversible crash; needed. wanted. molecules, all busy and bustling and stuck on a single path. instructions engraved against their eyelids. every blink was information. every blink was meaningful. every blink meant progress, however small. and progress, the universe did. it lurched and winded and twisted to meet the needs of all these creatures: swimming! walking! running! climbing! flying! apes turned people, people turned gods. the food chain was no match for our science. inventions galore. they thought up gods and more creatures and rules they must follow. stories, legends, tales. fantasies. as the fantasies blended with realities, beliefs were born and reborn. magical beliefs. wonderful, magical beliefs. but as science suffocated that magic once again, they sputtered out until the sparks had disappeared into the Great Beyond. those wonderful, magical creatures exist now only in the hearts of children, the storybooks they read, and the costumes on halloween night. or so those tethered to science believe.
those who do remember the glimpses of past promises know the truth: the magic still surrounds us all. the fairies still fly. their wings show only briefly; as ballerinas hover for unnatural moments above the ground before landing. gravity suspends them in an elegant leap. the talent of the dancer is no match for the fairy blood in their veins that longs for a gravityless existence of dancing atop the clouds as the sun is pulled down across the horizon, glowing pink against the willow tree they have so graciously claimed as home overlooking the calm lake at its border.
the beliefs of scientists may ground them, but their own knowledge of the power they hold defies the scientific laws of this planet’s gravitational pull.
they swore by it, and nothing else. pangea. simplicity. ginormous roaming lizard-like beasts. an irreversible crash; needed. wanted. molecules, all busy and bustling and stuck on a single path. instructions engraved against their eyelids. every blink was information. every blink was meaningful. every blink meant progress, however small. and progress, the universe did. it lurched and winded and twisted to meet the needs of all these creatures: swimming! walking! running! climbing! flying! apes turned people, people turned gods. the food chain was no match for our science. inventions galore. they thought up gods and more creatures and rules they must follow. stories, legends, tales. fantasies. as the fantasies blended with realities, beliefs were born and reborn. magical beliefs. wonderful, magical beliefs. but as science suffocated that magic once again, they sputtered out until the sparks had disappeared into the Great Beyond. those wonderful, magical creatures exist now only in the hearts of children, the storybooks they read, and the costumes on halloween night. or so those tethered to science believe.
those who do remember the glimpses of past promises know the truth: the magic still surrounds us all. the fairies still fly. their wings show only briefly; as ballerinas hover for unnatural moments above the ground before landing. gravity suspends them in an elegant leap. the talent of the dancer is no match for the fairy blood in their veins that longs for a gravityless existence of dancing atop the clouds as the sun is pulled down across the horizon, glowing pink against the willow tree they have so graciously claimed as home overlooking the calm lake at its border.
the beliefs of scientists may ground them, but their own knowledge of the power they hold defies the scientific laws of this planet’s gravitational pull.