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

Mendelevium

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry”” series (#101, Md)

“Once, there lived and existed
a great learned man,
with a beard
almost as long as God’s.”

Daniel Posen wrote that,
about Demitri Mendeleev,
a Russian scientist
who created the
Periodic Table as we know it.

There’s even a sculpture
outside the Bratislava, Slovakia
University of Technology —
in the center is Mendeleev’s head,
fully adorned with metallic curves
for his flowing name and beard,
as rows of elements
emanate from his head.

Because while other scientists
tried to come up with ways
to order the known elements,
Mendeleev predicted
a system of elements,
based on their weights
and explaining their properties —
this idea showed the spaces
between the atomic weights
of discovered elements,
and explained the properties
of elements that would only be
discovered in the future.

It’s good to know
that just a few years after
the American Civil War ended,
that scientists globally
were able to understand
the relationship between
the elements, thanks to Mendeleev.

And it’s sad
that the science community
waited for nearly half a century
after this God-like scientist’s death
to mane an element after him.

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Mendeleev did many odd jobs
during his life,
not unlike Albert Einstein,
with an element named after him
only two spots away
on Mendeleev’s Periodic Table.
And the thing is,
Mendelevium is only created
after smashing Einsteinium
with alpha particles…

But it’s sad,
that with all of the research
the world has done
to learn about this element,
we still know so little.
Mendeleev taught us
how to research and discover more,
but now that we found
only trace amounts of Mendelevium,
we still don’t know what to do…

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Because once we’ve found you,
if you don’t give us enough
so we can learn,
we’re forced to wonder:
will you be more like Einsteinium,
silvery-white, radioactive —
but with an estimated enthalpy
that underlines your danger to us?
Because I imagine that you,
like Mendeleev,
will show us how to learn
then leave us alone
to struggle for you.

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

Manganese

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#025, Mn)
(stemming from “Became a Jungle”, written 05/17/10,
with references to “Everything Lives With Her”, written 9/2/06)
3/28/13

I wanted plants around.

She always had plants around,
everything thrived with her.

Ever since she died
my home has become a jungle.

Let me have control over this.

Let me add water nearly daily
to the plant I bought when I visited her,
or to the tree she gave me years ago.

Add plant food to the water.
Because I don’t want anything to die.

Trim the dried leaves,
because they would remind me
that even nature misses her.

Keep plants near windows,
they need their light.
Their Manganese needs it
for their chlorophyll production.

Actually, their Manganese assimilates
the carbon dioxide in photosynthesis.

So breathe in our carbon dioxide
and give me more
of my precious oxygen,
so we can realize
how we depend on each other so.

Actually, I should stock up
on Manganese plant supplements.

I’ll make sure you get everything you need.
I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.

Lawrencium, Periodic Table poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

Lawrencium

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#103, Lr)

I’ve always tried to figure you out.
I could never pinpoint your true destiny.
All I know
is that your radio
activity to me
left my bones so brittle.
I know your heart is a hand grenade.
You’ve made my skin so paper thin.
You’re corroded me
until my lips
are forever shut.

Iron in my Eyes, Periodic Table poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

Iron in my Eyes

Janet Kuypers

bonus poem from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#026, Fe)
(stemming from “You’ve Killed Me”, written 10/25/11)
4/1/13

You think I was joking.
You think I wanted this to happen.

But this is what it boils down to.
I can no longer respond.

After all I’ve been through,
I’d think you’d understand.

Come to me.
I dare you.
Open my eyelid.
Shine a light
right into my eye.

See if I respond.

I even heard
that someone said
I looked so pretty
in my hospital bed here,
wearing nice eye shadow.

I know I’m a dark girl,
but they had to be informed
that
that wasn’t eye shadow, and
that I had two black eyes.

You see,
that’s how the doctors know
I have a brain injury.
When the blood seeps
out from around my brain,
it collects
only in my eyelids.

Iron gives color to blood,
and coming through
from under my skin,
my blood-filled
Iron-rich
eyelids
must have been
a pleasant
mauve
hue.

You think I’ve got an Iron will,
and I do.
But at moments like these
I wonder
if I have cried Iron,
leaving it in my eyelids
for you to see.

They say your eyes
are windows to your soul.
And mine have been darkened.
Is it by you,
is it by the world,
is it by the hand I was dealt.

Is it all
fate.

All I know
is that mine have been darkened.
Even if it is by Iron.

Indium, poem from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#49, In) by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

Indium

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#49, In)
4/27/13

As I touch the screen display,
see images and words moving
along the small LED screen,
I feel you there, just
on the other side.

I say I’ve never needed you,
but you’ve always been just
on the other side,
displaying what I wish to see,
lubricating what cannot
meld together.
You’re as brilliant to me
as a shining silver metal
but you’ve been so fluid
that you melt when I see you.

That may be why
you’ve always been just
on the other side
when it came to us,
and only allowed me
to admire you like this
from afar.