art music poetry

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

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Ununseptium

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#117, eka-astatine, dvi-iodine, Uus)
with poetry from “Tired of Trying,” from the “Depression – the singles” collection

I knew you were out there for years.
But to get you, after toiling in my Dubna lab
we had to ask the Americans
over in Tennessee
if they could send us
some of their wares,

but years passed before I could get
22 milligrams of Berkelium
so I could work in Moscow Oblast
to get you in my sights.

All that time, all I could do
was research, hope.
I’d work, I’d go
and I’d stand on my own,
and I’d leave on my own,*
wondering how long it would take
before I’d see what you might be like.

You see, I used to work at a pharmacy
at Nevsky Prospekt in Leningrad,
that’s when I fell in love
with learning about chemicals,
and that is when I wanted
to discover something truly new.

That’s when you came into the picture.

Because after years of work,
I still waited for those damn Americans
to come through for us.
I mean, we’re scientists,
we’re supposed to be on the same side,
this is all about discovery.
And the thing is,
the higher we get in our research,
the more stable we got
on our little island of knowledge.
But this waiting was exasperating —
I got to the point
that I got tired of trying to tell myself
that I had something to discover,
something to share,
that someone wanted to hear.**

Eventually, they had to ship
what I needed to get you
in five packages wrapped in lead;
it flew back and forth
across the Atlantic five times
and was rejected twice by customs.
But once I got what I needed —
oh, you were just about
the heaviest thing I could imagine.
Then again, you’ve had me
spinning around over the years for you,
so it wouldn’t surprise me
if you would do the same for me.

So I’d work while listening to the radio,
and active actions from you
would come to me in short bursts.
But I’ll take whatever I can get
in my little corner of the world.
This is research. And this is what I do

to learn what I can from you.

 

* “How Soon is Now,” the Smiths, 1984
** “Tired of Life”, 2012

All of These Poems

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…..and was it worth it
after all
after all of these poems
dropped in the night,
metaphors,
images of this cat or that cat,
memories of
sunshine,
blind,
kind,
or just hot and sweaty,
lying there in some blog,
some rag like
sand in a shoe,
blue like blues,
red like blood,
yellow like the sunshine.

I followed the plow,
the dirt piled over the plants,
I uncovered,
and my grandfather worked the mule,
Gee for right,
Haw for left,
and I am now as stubborn as that mule
and my halter has made callouses
and I scrape my mule hoof
in the dirt
and I strain against the plow.

My grandmother brought
lemonade to the field
and rang a bell at noon.
I still listen for the bell
but it is silent
and the house is
gone,
but I remember the field
and the slap of the harness
and I can still see the water jar
wrapped in paper in the shade
of time itself.

and was it worth it after all
to have written it down in a box
on a page of magnetic spots
that glow ones and zeros like a firefly
in the night.

david michael jackson

Dylan Thomas Readings, Burton,Hopkins,Auden et al

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Dylan Marlais Thomas was a Welsh poet and writer whose works include the poems “Do not go gentle into that good night” and “And death shall have no dominion”
Dylan Thomas, also known as Dylan Marlais Thomas, was a Welsh-born poet and writer who wrote exclusively in English. Apart from poetry, he also wrote short stories and scripts for films and radio, and often performed in some of them. He became very popular in America, much credited to his sonorous voice with a subtle Welsh lilt. Thomas became famous for his much acclaimed poems like “Fern Hill”, “In Country Sleep” and “Ballad of the Long-legged Bait”.

Kerouac Reads

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Jack Kerouac was an American novelist and poet. He is considered a literary iconoclast and, alongside William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg, a pioneer of the Beat Generation. Kerouac is recognized for his method of spontaneous prose.
[tubepress mode=”tag” tagValue=”October in the Railroad Earth Jack Kerouac Reads ” resultsPerPage=”18″ orderBy=”relevance” perPageSort=”viewCount” ]

That Storm and My Cat

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that storm and my cat

there I wuz
tryin’ to make music but
the sky wouldn’t shut up
rumblin’ and ravin to beat all
well I yelled back I did
Shut up I said
can’t you see I’m a tryin’ to make music in here
that’s when it started talkin’ back
louder and louder like the Battle of Stones River itself
I yelled agin’ “Back off you ol’ storm”
That’s when it started a throwin that hail at me
I jumped back an’ closed that window I did.
That is when I saw it
my cat a runnin’ for high heaven in the driving sleet.
I opened that window agin’ but she was gone she was
gone and the sleet was piled up agin the side o’ the house
like snow
and the storm she rumbled low like bass drums with
bombs a goin’ off on the horizon
an’ the sleet a hittin’ the window like static on
an old radio
It always makes me feel charged like the lightnin’ itself
when it blusters like that.
It’s like God almighty himself has allowed himself a few moments
to jus’ be angry an’
be proud of it
I jus’ hope he don’ accidently hurt my cat

that storm and my cat