Poetry Posts

Ununtrium, “Periodic Table of Poetry” poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

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Ununtrium
Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#113, Uut)
elements derived from the poem“Tall Man”
10/23/13

I can never hold you.
But when I step
within those walls
where I first found you,
I can then feel your presence
across the room.
A movement, a stir.
I feel it.
I can sense you
as the seconds slip by,
but after only
twenty moments,
I snap out of it.
I know you’re gone.

I compare you
to your friends,
and your heaviness
weighs me down.
You, with your long shadow
stretched across those walls,

you’ll only disappear again.

An occasional glance —
I’ll take whatever I can take.
Glimpses of your strength
is all I can capture
before you seem to
dart away
at what seems
to be
the speed of light.

You’re a stranger.
You stay tightly wound in your world.
But I want crack
your dense shell.
I want to know you.

I’ve sensed you.

And for some reason,
I feel I know you all too well.

Tritium, “Periodic Table of Poetry” bonus poem from Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

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Tritium

Janet Kuypers

(Bonus poem from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series, molecule 3H
based on Hydrogen element #1, also known as hydrogen-3)
12/24/13

So my husband has this nice Fossil watch
that he wears only when we go out on nice dates now.
You see, he says he doesn’t need a watch
because he has his cell phone with him at all times,
and it always tells time in accordance with GPS.

But recently he broke down and bought another watch,
one that looks like a small child should wear it,
with a huge black band and face and neon glowing hands.

Lovely, I thought,
I thought just using the cell phone was bad enough.
So I asked about the glowing hands on his watch
(and thought about the original radium watch faces
painted by women who got cancer from radiation).
And he said no, the numbers and dials are covered in
Tritium.

And I thought, great,
another element that probably will leak
into people causing certain eventual death.
But he said no, this is safe, it’s only an isotope of hydrogen.

And I thought, oh…
So it’s just another boring element that we
Americans are using to try to make life easier
for people who grow tired of using their eyes.

I don’t think he liked my saying that.
So he said, wait a minute
(knowing how I seem to like learning about
Atomic bombs and World War Two and the like),
Tritium is used in the process of making the
Hydrogen bomb.

Hmmm.

So I read that Tritium for American nuclear weapons
was produced in special heavy water reactors.
But tritium undergoes radioactive decay
(ergo the glowing watch faces, I’d wonder,
though I’m sure he’s stress that there’s
no dangerous radioactivity in his watch –
oh wait, he said it’s “safe” radioactivity),
but Tritium’s used in “boosting”, increasing
the speed and yield of fission bombs.

And yeah, he was trying to get me to like
his child-like black glow-in-the-dark watch
by linking it with heavy water in WWII
and Hitler’s efforts to get the bomb first.
Scary to think that tactic might work with me,
but at least he’s trying to get me like
the watch that he chooses to wear.

Titanium, “Periodic Table of Poetry” poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

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Titanium

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#22, Ti)
(based on the poem “The Way You Tease Me”)
10/1/13

What I think I like the most about you
is the way you always leave me wanting more.
The longer I’m out in the sun, the more red
my nose and cheeks get, and the more I want
to slather you all over me to protect me.

What I think I like the most about you is how
whenever I see you around me, you consume me
like a wave of heat on a summer afternoon.
Seeing your metal along my flesh teases me
until sweat dances down my hairline and tickles my neck.

What I think I like the most about you
is when you say that absence makes the heart grow fonder,
because you’re like the fireworks I only see
on special occasions, and with your absence
I want you more, so you couldn’t be more right.

What I think I like the most about you
are the things that make me think I have to fight for you,
are the things that make you cost just too much.
It’s true, the market determines your worth to the world,
even if you’re always priceless to me.

What I think I like the most about you
is the fact that you can lead the way to help me
fly high into the sky, so I could see any corner
of the Earth, or even see the Universe beyond
our narrow global vision. You do that for me.

What I think I like the most about you
is the fact that you seem so common in the world,
but you manage to hide yourself in just the right way.
But still, you’re everywhere from dental implants to cell phones,
to engagement rings to jet engines to space ships…

What I think I like the most about you
is the wondering about you, is the yearning for you.
That’s what I like. This high-charged guessing game.
You make me work so hard just to find you. You leave me
to think about the possibilities. And that’s what I like.

Thulium, “Periodic Table” poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

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Thulium

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry”” series (#69, Tm)
7/18/13

Scroll to Medieval times,
and see a classical map.

Look over the Carta Marina,
because there you can find
what some theorized
as an island of antiquity —
through for those who traveled
by boat around Britain,
the Thule was the most northerly
of the Britannic Islands.
In ancient literature, however,
the Ultima Thule
was the symbol for
a far-off land,
something unattainable.

And when Thulium was discovered
in the late eighteen hundreds
(named after Thule,
as a mythical region
in Scandinavia),
the element was so rare that
it’s qualities were unattainable…

But even though this is
the rarest of the rare,
and despite the high cost,
it’s in the YAG laser, used
for laser surgery, for work
unattainable by the human hand.
It’s even bombarded
in a nuclear reactor
for it’s use in portable
x-ray devices,
so we can see
what was otherwise
unattainable to the naked eye.

I mean, because of
Thulium’s fluorescence,
it’s even inside euro banknotes,
to prevent counterfeiting.

Because Thulium fluoresces
with a deep blue hue,
we’ll sail the oceans
to learn, we’ll go to
the farthest places we know,
just to see trace glimpses,
because we want to go beyond
what we see…

THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE Poem by Summer Breeze

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The Seed of the Burning Tree

The Seed of the Burning Tree

THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE

i stand knee deep in burning coals
waist high in bombs bursting light
eyes filled with poisonous gas
ears to the crackling wind

i kneel deep in daisy filled garden
soft breeze caressing my face
tear drops coursing the river
bird song in my ear

i lie on the ground hugging
holding least i fall further
than i can remember being
down in the deep deep well

i turn to face my Maker
i cry, “o Maker face me!”
give me just one reason,
or take this cup.”

the crackling wind is silent
the air is sweet & pure
i see a tree in the garden
it burns but does not die

“My child, & you are my child
My love, and you are my love
You are the seed of the burning
Tree, and you and I are one.”

Originally published at Artvilla.com on Feb 1, 2005 @ 17:02