Bismuth poem by Janet Kuypers

Bismuth

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#083, Bi)

I heard NASA scientists say
that Albert Einstein dismissed some of his theories.

That Einstein didn‚t like some of his theories
because he thought they weren‚t beautiful.

And it makes me wonder:
what is beauty?

Is it how the silver-pink hue of Bismuth
tarnishes into an iridescent oxide
refracting colors from soothing pink
to bright yellow
to a deep blue?

Einstein believed
“The most beautiful thing
we can experience
is the mysterious.
It is the source
of all art and science.”

And scientifically,
no other metal is more naturally
diamagnetic than Bismuth.

I know, I know, Bismuth is diamagnetic
and it‚s not the magnetism of Bismuth
that causes the Aurora Borealis
from the Earth‚s magnetic field…

But trust me,
from what I‚ve seen,
no other element
can naturally produce
such an awe-inspiring
brightly rainbow-colored
stair-step crystal.

So we ask, what is beauty?

They say that beauty
is in the eye of the beholder.
So, it makes me wonder.

Was it Now Poem by Edy Lou Benjamin

Was it Now ?

Was it April love
what snapped a pic
of her reflection
in a mirror
a feeling never shared
why she did not know
she only found the celluloid
there is a smile for the thought
a frown for the missed.

From Lawrence Welk
to Harry Chapin and beyond
Chopin and beyond
music / laughter / truthful eyes
Leaving on a jet plane
Dream Baby
Imagine.

“Then leave me now,” he says,
there on the rails praying,
someone who gave me trust –
a golden sort of trust.

There he sat praying
poet’s pen in hand
for the souls lost
as they consume and destroy
our source of life,
this planet Earth.

Ah, so
we have all made our choices
may peace thoughts have global reaching
may no stomach be sated until
no stomachs growl
may we all find peace.
Amen

Astatine in a Fantastic Car Crash

Astatine in a Fantastic Car Crash

by Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series

And our life is one big road trip now,
and we set the cruise control
and make our way down the expressway.

And most of the time we’re just moving
in a straight line, and the scenery
blurs. There’s nothing to see.

But I know what’s inside of you
and I know what you’re made of.
There’s no such thing as a calm with you.

You are a fantastic car crash.
You stop traffic in both directions —
In your twisted way, you come from the decay

of others… And what do you leave
in your wake? More radioactive destruction,
as all around you slows down to stare,

and all the gapers gawk, as the decay grows.

Everything shatters with you, you know.
It’s a spectacular explosion,
until your instability corrodes you down

to the basics in the world. And yeah,
what was left of you after you were gone
is so much more stable than what you were,

but still, I’d duck and cover
as metal flies through the air. Every time
you leave the scene of the accident,

I am left picking up the shards of glass
from the windows. You know, the glass breaks
into such tiny little pieces. They look like ice.

It takes so long to pick up the pieces,
and even though I’m careful,
I’m still picking up the pieces

after dealing with only fractional amounts of you.
I’ve only been able to infer what you’re like
by knowing your brethren,

while I’m stuck here, picking up the pieces,
and I’m still on my knees.
The glass cuts into my hands,

because it was only after so much
of your destruction that you left blood
drip
ping down to the street
.

think of this as your contribution,
this radioactive short-term flash of decay

think of this as your contribution

to this fantastic car crash
that is you, that is me,
that is us.

I’ve tried to learn, I’ve tried to study
these microscopic parts of you
to make sense of you…

But whether or not you ever leave enough,
despite your destruction,
despite this decay of yours,

I have to keep reminding myself
that when it comes to you,
This is what you do.

This happens all the time.
So,
I to pull the glass from my hands

and I wave my hand to the line of traffic:
go ahead, keep driving, this happens
all the time, there’s nothing to see here.