Poems as thought experiments

Liquids take the shape of their containers, as I recall from school days. A note here explains that, ‘Some of the poems borrow stanza forms from particular poems: for example, Donne’s ‘The Flea’, Keats’ ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’. . .’ The author fills these existing forms with new poetry.

He calls them, ‘Thought Experiments’ and Wikipedia says, ‘A thought experiment is a hypothetical situation in which a hypothesis, theory, or principle is laid out for the purpose of thinking through its consequences.’ Each poem in the series does just that — a familiar philosophical argument is explored or exemplified for the reader to ponder.

The strong shapes of the poems are filled with fluid ideas. One is not directed to particular conclusions and, while the poems ring true, the final lines of many point to uncertainty or abstraction: ‘I couldn’t catch it’, ends ‘Achilles and the Tortoise’; ‘pointing at something’ closes ‘The Edge of the Universe’. Other closing phrases include: ‘heard, or conjured’ (‘The Infinite Monkey Theorem’); ‘beautiful and true at one remove’ (‘The Allegory of the Cave’); ‘a world that’s almost this one, but not quite?’ (‘Twin Earth’); and ‘to be thought about’ (‘Bertrand Russell’s Teapot’).

Although dealing with big ideas and imponderables, Stephen Payne’s poems are playful and entertaining, even jokey, as in this two-line one:

In a Parisian Café
—Jean Paul Sartre (1943) Being and Nothingness

The café-goers disappear in smoky air:
leaving Pierre, who isn’t here.

The subject of each poem in this collection is a ‘thought experiment’, and they left me wondering to what extent every poem could be considered such. Any poem could be described as a container made of words, and the ideas they hold never quite settle into a definitive reading, however familiar or closely studied.

Peter Wallis