Her heart jumped with all its energy
And her brain took a deep breath
When the results assembled in the graph
And her idea became true.
A reality nobody had thought of.
Her mind generated truth.
Her hands rushed to wrote it down.
That night sheer could not sleep.
Tag: lab
Curiosity struck back
The lab follows you
And no weekend exists for the inquisitive mind
That roams and takes notes
Trying to taste the hidden juice
Of each moment of the day.
Lab love
Feelings flourish towards
the most unexpected objects.
Glassware with a shine
powders with no clumps
squares on my paper
pave my golden path to the Wizard
while I dare to wear the red shoes.
Back into the lab
No stress for the mind
To find its train
Of thoughts and wheels
And reach again the lab.
Acquired behaviours are slow to set in
But quickly awaken.
The tools and escapes are there
The chair has been found,
The adventure continues.
The mountain of rebellion
Escape to the green land,
store that fresh air and green threads of grass
bring it to the lab, bring it to your computer.
Ideas and rebellion need breathing fresh.
breathing new.
No way! In Nature?!?!
So happy to see an article on how poetry helps scientists in Nature!
The new year fell on us
The data are running wild chasing each
other in the living room,
the words of the manuscript are looking for a closure
among the glassware,
and another year passed.
Attending the details left from the year of the focus,
the new year fell on us with clarity and love.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would say that your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would day your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would dhave said that your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would dhave said that your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would dhave said that your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would day your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
Lab is…
Working in the lab means you have to change your behaviour to ensure safety and reproducibility.. .but this extends to so many other aspect. Who would have said that your clothing should also change? In this series I will show a few ideas of what working in the lab really means.
The scientific method
I have my hypothesis,
My experiments will prove it.
Lazy to self correction and proud
I will not look sideways.
Is that my husband?
We hugged and kissed.
I sweetly insisted.
He was not amused, he was not my husband.
Infographic about Poetry from the Lab
Out of the labyrinth
Out of the lab and out of my head,
I let the summer absorb me and that childish
smile come back suddenly.
Windows and computers,
Numbers and papers are like walls
in a labyrinth to my TBD destination.
Nature nurture
My normal clothes embrace me,
A scientist in disguise,
And reminds me of the holidays.
Shorts and sleeveless
from the forbidden wardrobe
Give me a brave allure.
Jump ahead
A stair of papers
And unresolved questions give me strength.
The jump is a search,
my spring is loaded
and written hard
On paper with CV as a crown.
Holidays
Your pipettes are still smoking
And your notes on scrap paper
When the holidays arrive.
A feeling of incomplete and guilt descends
While you leave the long concrete corridor.
your mind rushes
to plan and refine elegant experiments
Not to waste time
While your bikini awaits you.
Lab coat
Dots of unknown colour,
Stains of never-studied proteins
Are my medals.
On my chest and around my arm,
They Tell a recent story of fight and explosions.
Invincible in the way,
standing strong through the washings ,
A Memento of the past and a map to my future.
Reason on me
You try to follow
But cannot grasp the subtle logic.
A simple experiment
Marked my day and my work forever.
Will that results define me? My career?
Will this topic be me forever?
Changing road is hard,
when success strikes.
Experimental hug
The big Windows let the sun in
And give perspective to my efforts
In the lab.
What seems massive and crucial,
Might be tomorrow forgotten.
Knee deep in my days,
I find comfort in a perfect plan
And lots of clean glassware.
Slide confusion
Numbers and colours
Fight each other on my slide.
Voices get silent
And bulletpoints get longer
Worth words telling a story
That built in the lab.
Glass and plastic have cuddled
Liquids of value
And proteins of temperament.
Breaking
Your body whispers
A break is needed.
Reluctant and fearful
You move your body
while your mind conputes
and forecasts experimental results.
The coffee is warm
Yet fades quickly
In the run to a career.
Love study
Love is green
And grows unattended
Between your pinky toes.
Soft and flexible
You do not notice it
Still enjoy its silent support.
Years have passed
Studies have been completed,
Or only new?
After work
My arms are crossed
And my thoughts far away
When the bell rings.
The day is over
Or does it start?
I head home and fill the last hours
With tenderness and personality
Until the sleep comes
And my heart holds a list
With minute-long experiences and small memories.
Work prize
It has a warm price
The recognition of your work by a friend.
Work talks stay at work
And the focus is down to that stained bench
That stores your weapons and your solutions.
Everyday hunt
Everyday leads me on a treasure hunt
With hints hidden below a coffee cup
And inside an orange.
I zigzag absent-minded while other proceed
Bloody on their metallic rigid tracks.
Resting at last, with my constellation
of secret places And my hands full
And sweaty.
Dear friend
I know you are connected to my heart
Even miles from here
And on another country.
Surrounded by factories,
You can feel my call,
When the routine gets boring
And the heart heavy.
Burning in/out
Noise and broken sentences
Crawl in my mind
Worrying why the job I used to enjoy
Is now a reason off dark dreams and tears.
Have I seen a part of it that disgusts me?
Is it just this broken environment I am in?
Is it inside me? Is it the situation?
I reject the whole package
And my life gets impossible,
and gets on.
Tickling brain
Numbers in the table,
Like kids holding hands in a line,
Show me the direction
While tickling my brain
In this hide-and-seek game.
The pull and magic of the hidden trend
Make me a solo artist
Behind the curtain of an unapologetic stage.
Of me
The skin trembles under the UV-light
At the end of the sweaty experiment.
How much of me is needed
For answering a short question?
In this never-ending hunt?
To be recognized?
Adventure dance
The right volume is dispensed
In a standing glass of honesty and accuracy.
The bench gathers simple liquids and mysterious tools
That will decode the way to that answer
In a successive repetitive dance.
Holiday consideration
The intense direct sun
Burns and melts my doubts away.
A life in the lab,
A life under the detached neon
Feels cold now and its value questionable.
Numbers talk
My lips cannot pronounce
The impact of these numbers
But only imagine it and suggest it
With metaphors and little confidence.
Numbers talk to me
And they swirl into a portray of our future
That hardly graphics can describe.
Morning start
Silently the train approaches me
And the action starts.
The day and its plot are initiated
By my expert and warm gestures
Moving towards the lab.
Everything looks like yesterday night
But a wow is hidden somewhere
Also today.
Late discovery
Drops from my forehead
Fall gracelessly on the paper
And reminds me of the time passed.
Late in the night,
I will remember only the joy and the childish dubious faith,
But now the effort is real
And the struggle in my mental muscles.
Art in the lab
Hard life in they lab
Where hard materials and soft dreams
are tested
I don’t feel I deserve
Your pastel smiles and encouragement
When my data are a Pollock
And my protocol a rollercoaster.
Be there and keep quiet
To watch the show.
Control travel
I contract my muscles
Crunching over control
Of little Excel cells and tiny data points.
The scenario they picture
Is the natural reality
Or the translation of my expectations?
With a joyful papercup of Black tea in my hand
And a backpack of numbers and theories,
I travel through unseen possibilities and questions that hide treasure doors.
Lab day
Another day has passed
Through my clicks and my printings
In the busy lab
Who looks forward.
Lab animals feed on planning the future
And snack on tiny bites of promising mistakes
While the mission proceeds.
Night protein party
The illusion of organization
Is fooling us
On our benches, in our offices,
In our freezer.
The uncontrollable magic happens
When the light is switched off and the drawer closed.
Our proteins in their tubes
Initiate the revolution
Out of our sight, behind our back
And subvert the order we imposed
To samples supposed to respond to our command
And follow our hypotheses.
The geometric rationally organized drawer
Is each night the land of anarchy
And the cause of headaches and endless hunts
In the morning.
Stairs 2
A stream of endorfins
Sweeps me away
When I glance the results.
Enough to make the day
Precious
Although at the first step
Of the longest stairs.
Career and life.
Attraction
Shiny as polished
Glassware waits for me
And the colourful protein solutions
Of today.
Swimming and swirling
In their soup
Proteins arrange and interact
Like people in crowded squares
Showing uncontrollable attraction.
Forecast
Research Planning is forecasting
What shines on that crucial moment
When your hands start moving
And your mind keeps quiet
For once
To follow the steps of the protocol
You wrote.
Sunday evening
Each second a treasure
On Sunday evening
When the outside goes dark
And the sofa is what counts.
No space for worries
No space for proteins
No space for experiments
In the present.
Justification
Great ideas do not need justifications
In an ideal world
We belong to,
But too far away
From the research world.
Pro and cons of my possible next brilliant step
Crowd my head
While I have to invent also
The next ideal justification.
BrushStrokes
Details are in the corners
And in the last strokes of the brush
To complete the aquarello
When nobody is watching.
Sitting at the desk
The many experiments transform
Fusing in a single story
Whose last slow details
Make me feel unique.
Stars
Polka dots and stars
Start to decorate my labbooks
And cheer up days full of expectation
Until the holidays
And the final answer that only repetitions can confirm.
Motus
Dynamic yet scared
I jump from challenge to adventure
Hiding my motus
And escaping in silence
Buy still reaching my love and my passion.