Neuren Writes

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NaPoWriMo_2024_Poem9

an ode to pipette tips

there is a tool that is essential in a wet enough lab

it uses a specific piece of plastic to draw liquid up

a tip attached by mild force to a calibrated instrument

the pipette moves the liquid as it rests in steady hand

the tips accumulate in specific waste receptacles

they lie around sometimes as if they fell accidentally

I spot them akin to fallen soldiers on an experimental battlefield

pick them up from the floor or the bench feeling the hard surface of a simple but important disposable tool

some tips have filters

some tips do not

all require sterility either from the manufacturer or through the autoclave in lab

without pipette tips there could be no progress

a terrifying reality brought on by a lack of a simple tool

before the advent of the plastic take over

tips were made of glass and kept in careful metal containers

Scientists often used their own lung suction to mouth pipette

Modern tips deserve their modern praise
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NaPoWriMo_Poem8

we should not have met

my ancestors are strewn across Asia and parts of Europe

your ancestors have spent thousands of years in south America

my ancestors have two legs and unique neuroanatomy

your ancestors are eight legged and have unique neuroanatomy

I watch you catch an insect I raised with love

you will never love me

without this modern age we could not have met

and now I get to say “yes! I said I have 4 pet tarantulas”
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NaPoWriMo_2024_Poem7

prompt: write a postcard style poem about distance, traveling, sightseeing – wish you were here

imagine distance without a cell phone

physical distance stretches the threads that bind

but they grow and we weave more love into our ties to cover all the miles

it’s true that I wish you were here for a hug and a pot of tea

but I’m happy our threads can accommodate our distance

so many people live far while loving

until we can be together again we send vibrations down our threads

blessed with the aid of modern tech

“wish you were here” message sent
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NaPoWriMo_2024_Poem6

unconventional wisdom

Dorothy Parker wrote a poem called

Resumé

Razors pain you;

Rivers are damp;

Acids stain you;

And drugs cause cramp.

Guns aren’t lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smells awful;

You might as well live.

thus begins my unconventional wisdom

this poem is one of my comforts

it tells me that I have no painless exit

and reminds me that I don’t want one

I want to keep entering each day

and being a bit of a nuisance

I have even found something like a religion

if Dorothy taught me that it’s better to stay

Octavia Butler says God is change

I’m not owed a better future

but my future is in my hands

this is my wisdom

things change

give tomorrow a chance.
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NaPoWriMo_2024_Poem5

(Based on healing from suicidal ideation)

To be blessed,

Said I at 18,
Is to die before 21.
It is to die before knowing,
Anything else,
The horrors are
Fucking done.

To be blessed,
Said I at 21,
Is to die at 25,
With more experience,
Of the suffering,
Extending my time
When I am alive,

To be blessed,
Say I now,
Is to live as long as I can
Fuck my earlier suicidality
I will live as long
As this life permits me
I will live
As long as I can
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NaPoWriMo_2024_Poem4

Organoids

Take a sample of blood or skin from a patient or volunteer. This sample is not stem cells. It will be.

Apply the correctly balanced set of large, incomprehensibly complex molecules through a variety of approaches. Some of them are more dangerous than others. The cells will become like stem cells. We call them induced pluripotent stem cells.

Take these induced cells and make them happy and healthy stem cells. Then apply special baths to push them onto a specific path. Each bath can take weeks but is important that hey are clean and well fed.

If done correctly, form a ball of cells that looks quite a bit like the growing brain. Ponder the meaning of organized activity in neurons cut off from sensory information. Fall asleep at the microscope and jerk awake after dreaming of visions in the dark.
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NaPoWriMo_2024_Poem3

disposable people

The ancient rules were always that people were easier to lose than things. People tended to naturally make more of themselves even under conditions that would suggest that to bring new life into the world was, perhaps, an idea utterly devoid of planning. In reality it was an idea devoid of choice, devoid of understanding, devoid of anything but resignation. There can always be disposable people – our modern just systems tell us that human life is not valued based on higher principle but on production of some poorly defined societal value.

The modern rules have thrown the entire enterprise into havoc. It’s fine to have disposable people. They decay and form good compost and even if some rabblerouser lifts up a few useless voices they generally generate the soil that their children will till. Now, we have disposable things! This is a particular outrage as for all of our history we would collect jewelry and armor and valuables from the dead, when we could. The rules had one simple principle – people were disposable, things were not.

Now that both people and things are disposable we have run into the novel problem that too many things can clutter the planet and affect even the non disposable classes. It’s fine to send the disposables to their designated trash heap – it’s not fine for the proper humans to find that plastics can enter their blood. Things should be disposable for convenience, but perhaps we just need to return to when only that which could die and understand it was considered easily replaced.
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NaPoWriMo2024_Poem2

You Saved Me

There are a million small gods now.

The internet feeds belief and for an infinite span of time loneliness rules in the city of angels.

Maybe once the city contracts it will be better but as it expands it eats.

Los Angeles is short on Angels and yet together we flew through the halls of money to buy ice cream because at 2 am most of the mall is closed but the security guards don’t mind us changing perspectives with ingrained handstands and cartwheels.

You flew into my life and grabbed my hands as if they belonged to you since the beginning of time.

Your wings were mine for a time until I remembered how to unfurl and fly with you and showed you so much of myself.

I was used to hiding my colors but with you the melding of paints was easy.

Los Angeles is short on angels. They move away to cities with more walk-able areas and better jobs.

But Angels don’t need physicality to be present. Be not afraid of the distance and remember the spread of wings that can cover thousands of miles.

Be not afraid of the raw meat love that comes with opening yourself to someone. Be not afraid to love an Angel.
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NaPoWrimo2024_Poem1

9:23

Day 1: Small Dog(god)

There’s a power to ritual
A power in belief
A power in my dog
All 16 pounds of habit
Dictating when we wake
And breakfast
And walk
My dog who saved me
As I saved him
And believed in the idea
Of our tiny communion
Small gods are born
From Small prayers
And as a dog
Looks up to his master
I look up at the stars
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I am Neuren!

To the new viewer- Call me Ren! This is a blog for me to post art related to my neuroscience studies as a PhD student. Welcome to a place where it will be mostly poetry and crochet. If you would like to contact me, please email at nvbalia1@ucla.edu