Month: May 2012

Nickel poem by Janet Kuypers

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Nickel

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series

“Nickel for your thoughts,”
he said to me.
So I had to ask,
“a Nickel?
Why?
Because the penny’s undervalued?”
And he said,
“Maybe it’s because
your thoughts
are worth
so much more
than a penny…”
And I thought,
‘great, five times more,
but it’s still
only a nickel…’

Besides, a nickel
is only about
twenty-five percent
nickel
in the first place.
But then again,
even though
it’s three fourths
copper,
the cost of the metals
is worth more
than the coin itself.

So maybe
I should take him up
on his nickel offer.
Then I could say
my thoughts
are worth something.

Phosphorus poem by Janet Kuypers

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Phosphorus

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series

I didn’t know how much I needed you.
I didn’t know how essential you were to me.
I didn’t know how my creation depended on you.

Even though I barely see you,
even though you seemed barely there for me,
even though I got rid of you whenever I could…

I didn’t know that even though
you were barely there,
you were there… just enough.

Like Venus, I only saw you from afar.
Like what is in DNA, RNA, ATP, you are
like me, all the way down to my cell membranes.

When I think of you,
when I breathe in the oxygen around me,
when your phosphorescence illuminates me…

Then I realize your true power.
Then I realize you’re the light bearer.
Then I realize you’re my morning star.

Though you seem toxic,
though you seem explosive,
that’s apparently the spark that gets me going.

So, remember that you give the Earth life.
So remember, you can always light my fire.
So, remember that since you have that charge

you can also help us destroy ourselves.

Kubla Khan Poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge Xanadu Poem

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Kubla Khan

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ‘twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise.