Purple powder gently falling Safely in my hands Mixing it, shaking it, pouring it Suddenly it forms bands Coming back, finding it Red between white In the light. Picking flowers when I was three Scattering them next to my mother, On a tree Cherry blossoms in my hand Gently land On the sand Of the beach Now its time to go To leave that happy scene And return back home Where I belong with my Column chromatography – – – (Written during a Science Creative Literacy Symposia – more pieces can be viewed here)

We walked into the lab full of science. Promise for work, excitement, and discovery awaited We had an experiment to do We picked a plant, pink, purple or green We went up in groups refining it Turning it to powder with a crackling and squelching The nitrogen froze it brittle we ground it mortar and pestle We put it in bottles, filling it with a forest scent But then we destroyed it, with acetone yet It turned from transparent to green, But soon it was ready to be changed yet again More bottles were assembled, silica, acetone filled We then…

Shining. Draped in purple. The fresh smell. It calls to me. Mortar and pestle. Grinding. Crushing. Destroying the beauty that once was. Beauty lost, never to be regained. A last chance to recover: Acetone. Bringing back what once was? Purple to brown. Beauty to hideousness. They say we have gained, but forget about what we have lost. The beautiful coat of His Purpleness. On the outside, a gleaming pharaoh. On the inside, a murderous thief. Alter egos are his undoing. – – – (Written during a Science Creative Literacy Symposia – more pieces can be viewed here)

It started with an empty tube Filled with a murky green liquid, Clumps of plant clung on to the sides. Left to settle, the plant material and liquid eventually separated, Like oil and water. Extracting the liquid from the test tube, We mixed it into a combination of ethanol and silica. The solvent tore it apart The greasy, darker liquid sank to the bottom, While the lighter, purer liquid remained at the top. In the dark room, the UV light coated the mixture, Reverting colours never seen before. Neon! Red! Bands of colour! Who knew that a purple light could…

This poem is a collective construction from one of our symposia days. Each student wrote one line about the topic they chose (rubber gloves), and then the students put the lines in order to create a poem. The instructors let the students have free reign over their collective creative process, and they wrote it and put it together within five minutes. More pieces from the day can be found here. – – – God! How do you put these ON?!?!?!?!? The rubber glove is blown up like a balloon, used to whack people. They snap! They really help nurses save…

Part of our Science Creative Literary Symposia. During this day, students from the Grade 7 class extracted compounds from various plant and flower samples, which were then loaded on a silica based chromatography column for characterization. – – – THE DIAMED FLOWER The DiaMed flower Magenta petals, Slightly browning, Texture of satin, In a single row. Varnished, stiff leaves, The colour of pine needles, Pointing up walls. Thin sheet of ice, Crackled and sizzled like afire Pestle ran over the helpless plant. Trampled on, chunks all over the place. A victim of the evil white smog. Out of the freezer,…