Nobel Neon

One day, Neon was sitting in her house, binge watching Breaking Bad, when she heard a commotion coming from next door.

This always happened, you would think she would get used to it by now.

By the way it sounded;
it was probably her neighbour Fluorine and her partner, Sodium, going at it again.

It’s been worse, Neon thought,
recalling how just last week, Fluorine had Phosphate, the Oxygen triplets, Sodium and his twin brother,
over for a rendezvous.
It’s strange that what helps keep your teeth clean could be so dirty.

As Neon turned up the volume,
she wished she was as out-going as her name.
While she felt complete in her shell,
she watched others from her window,
observing the various elements down below;
not many of them having the same enthusiastic and climatic reactions as Fluorine had
with her conquests.

Why couldn’t her neighbour be mellow like those below?
What was all the excitement next door?

Isn’t there pleasure in being discreet any more?

Neon rolled across her bed,
laying on her back, head hanging,
she stared at her front door.
It was closed.
She doesn’t remember the last time it was opened.

She reached out her hand,
reaching for the door knob,
failing as she knew she would,
she was much too far away.

She puffed in exaggerated exasperation,
convinced that a great force would be needed
to convince her that Fluorine’s ventures were worth it.

Until then,
the only action Neon knew she would be getting,
would be from her TV,

as long as Breaking Bad never gets cancelled.


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Nobel Neon by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.



I watch it diffuse onto train tracks,
into neighbourhoods, into home units,
until I couldn’t see it anymore.

It’s basic physics:
Particles will diffuse from regions of higher concentrations to regions of lower concentrations,
until the system reaches equilibrium.

It is a steady resolution
to the high climaxes of life,
I don’t know why I’m surprised when it happens.

Maybe it is the euphoria
of watching the active transport of pink
concentrate in the corner-shaped container,

Knowing that it takes a lot of energy
to organise and maintain such an overwhelming setup
leaves me in chills on a warm day.

But I have to remember, it’s basic physics
and more energy is needed to hold on to the pink
than for it to fade back into the original colour scheme.

I always thought the point
was to cause diabetic sweetness,
not to have watered down cordial.

But for now,
it is easier to maintain the current equilibrium,
even if we don’t know how stable it really is.

Note: This poem was inspired by the principles of diffusion and the poet’s observations of Pink Dot 2016. This poem does not adequately explain either diffusion or Pink Dot. For any enquiries please email me at

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Cordial by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

The Edge of Chaos

This poem is dedicated to the NUS class of 2016 and to all graduates around the world.

When you are facing the drop ahead of you
blanketed with thick fog that you can’t see pass your nose,
they will tell you to jump.

But, like a lot of other things,
it is easier said than done.

You cannot see much;
You call out and don’t hear a returning echo.

It’s called the edge of chaos.
It’s when you’ve been on a predictable path for so long,
you’ve reached a point where the way forward is
both limitless and empty.

You can sense your peers next to you,
all feeling the inevitable weight;
this is not a rallying line of support.

This is where you all are now,
but where you end up is highly dependent
on the smallest glance,
on the ‘insignificant’ twitch,
on a minor detail
regardless of being in the same setup for years.

There is a low groan,
your hairs stand when your ears recognise the resonating snarl.

Cries are coming from the fog,
muffled and loud
you notice some reoccurring patterns
with no coherent trends:

There are clusters that break off,
and single voices that just keep going
and sharp drops in sound,
as if there were infinite rests in the music notation.

It does not seem as if anyone has made it back here
after stepping off.

It’s intimidating
jumping into chaos,
but it’s better than being pushed,

especially when you are standing at the edge.
Note: This poem was inspired by Choas Theory, the characteristics of a chaotic system and the bifurcation diagram. This poem does not explain Choas Theory or other elements in detail and anyone willing to learn about Choas Theory should consult an actual textbook. If my understanding of the concept is flawed, please email me at and I will be more than willing to learn and attempt a new poem.



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The Edge of Chaos by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Your Doppler Effect

Just keep swimming.
– Dory, Finding Nemo

Keep moving forward.
-The Robinsons

Let them hear you coming.
That’s the whole point.
Let them register your approach,
from the soundwaves you leave behind.

Let them adjust their eyes,
from the neutral blue of the night
to the bright red of your horizon
Make it difficult for them not to acknowledge you.

It might be the only evidence
of your ephemeral existence,
a passing moment in space and time,
with occasional yet regular reminders to them,

of you.

Note: This poem was inspired by the Döppler effect, which describes the frequency of sound, water and light waves made by a moving source and perceived by a stationary observer, or a stationary source perceived by a moving observer. In this case, the former was used for the base metaphor of this poem.This poem does not completely describe the Döppler effect and anyone who wishes to learn more should consult an actual textbook. For any that find my understanding of the Döppler effect too rudimentary, I am willing to learn. Please email me at to provide me a better understanding and so I can attempt a new/better piece.
Creative Commons License
Your Doppler Effect by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.