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Poetry
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| The First Stem Cell Poem |
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Ode to the Unlabeled Gel |
SP cells are nifty
SP cells are fun.
I hope I get lots
On my next FACS run.
--SP
To which MAG wrote:
SP cells are nifty
SP cells are grand.
I wish there were as many
As grains of sand.
--MAG
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O Gel, with lanes divine
Beautiful bands undefined.
What was this experiment
--And was it mine?
What was its story?
By whom was it told?
Will its secrets
Ever unfold?
Or, like a winter day
Will it just fade away?
--SP
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| Stem Cell Limerick |
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The Skinny on SP |
There once was a cell named SP
Who effluxed Hoechst dye with glee.
Then into the mix
We threw a verapamil twist
And SP ceased to be.
--SP and CAR
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SP cells have
Secrets galore.
No matter what
We want to know more.
We want to look
At its protein
But, alas,
SP is quite lean.
--SP
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| The Houston Post-flood Poem |
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Lament on a Bad Sort |
Stem cells can
Survive a flood
Because they hang
Out in the blood.
This week has
Been quite a dud.
But I need data soon
Or my name is mud.
--SP
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Why are you so fickle
And hard to please?
Playing hard to get
And being a tease.
I give you transferrin
And IL-3.
So why don't I
Have any SP?
--SP
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| The Angry Stem Cell |
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Ode to Rahshaana |
Away with your virus
And 5-FU!
Away with your cocktails
And cytokine stew!
Better treat me with kindness
And gentleness anew
Or I'll go
And differentiate on you.
--SP
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Ms. Green is going
Alas, 'tis true
What are the rest of us
Going to do?
Sobs are heard
From the Baylor suitors
As Rahshaana rides off
On her dashing scooter.
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| Ode to...Wait, I Need a Form For That |
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Ode to Carlos |
Ah, paperwork
Joy of man's desire
Nothing can stir
Up more of my ire.
Fill a form for this
Fill a form for that
Fill a form for squashing
An unsuspecting gnat.
Three ID's and a decal
Just to walk around
(Seriously. No joke.
Beaurocracy abounds).
But, I shall persevere
And at the end of the day
I'll get that thing signed
And then I'll yell "Hooray!"
E. Bola
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He's off! He's gone! He's saying
His final "Ta-ta!"
(I think he's really leaving
To pursue human Sca.)
I wish he didn't have to go
And I know you do, as well.
So Carlos, we wish you Godspeed.
Adios. God bless. Farewell.
--Sniff, SP
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Ode to Shannon |
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Adios, Shannon!
Off to the east
To solve that
Hematopoiesis beast.
--Sniff, SP
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| Ode to Bench Space |
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Ode to the Anthrax Vaccine |
Ah, open prarie
Or something like it.
Bench space for
My gel box and pipette.
But what's this?
An invader-clutter!
Did it come from me
Or from another?
--SP
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A shot in the arm
Is supposed to do good.
It didn't really hurt
Like I thought it would.
But I am concerned
(I'm afraid I must say):
Why have I acquired
An affinity for hay?
--SP
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| The Hardest Part |
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The End of SP |
It appears to me
That there are things
That only patience
And love can bring--
Like marrow to muscle
Or human SP
So we'll wait in silence
For Peggy's progeny.
--SP, 8-30-02
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Riding on the scooter
Over to the sorter
To try to figure out
The sca KO disorder
What this? Something hiding
And staying very still
Egad! Oh no!
It's verapa...
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| Nothing Better to Do |
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Oklahoma Bound |
From time to time
I have expounded
Poems that have
In my mind abounded.
Now I ponder: Does MAG wonder
When all the day is through:
"Does this fellow simply
Have nothing better to do?"
--SP, 7-12-01, 6:30 am
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Tomorrow is the day
That I'll be a-lookin'
At two experiments
That have been a-cookin'.
Will they work?
Or will there be
That bacterial aroma
That might cause me to haul
My carcass off to Oklahoma?
-SP
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| A Goodell Lab Christmas |
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On your mark, get set, ouch! |
A hush crept over the lab that night
As the stockings hung on the benchtops
Would they be filled up nice and tight
Or would they induce teardrops?
The Grad Student, a second-year
With a heart still full of hope
Had faith that Santa would bring
Projects to help cope.
The postdoc, always wary
Of anything that would derail
His hopes of quickly publishing
Had requested this in detail--
Namely, the emergence of
A nice story to tell
That would be accepted in
Science, Nature, or Cell.
The PI, on the other hand
Had many things on mind
Such as funding, meetings, presentations
And more things of that kind.
She hoped that her gift
Would be the MOST fun
That is, specifically
A perpetual R01.
The mice hoped Santa
Would come to their aid:
They simply wanted
To keep all of their legs.
--E. Bola, Dec 2007
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The Tenacious Ten--
That's what they're called
Tri-athletes who
Have sloth mothballed.
Swim, bike, run
Splash, sweat, go!
Then back to lab
Prep, stain, flow!
It began as a taunt
From an Appalachian
(Who once dressed as a baby girl
For a worthy occasion)
In the end, though
The man who drinks the Dew
Lost, valiantly,
To the gal from Wash U.
The one who founded
Our beloved SP
Finished first in swimming
I'm proud, aren't thee?
But what shall we think
Of the son of Baltimore?
Will we ever try again
To paint his face while he snores?
Will we repeat
Those awful things of yore,
Now that we fear his prowess?
Quote Dave: Nevermore.
--Phil O. Virus, Sept. 2009
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