Perspicillum

You look through the eyepiece of life,
allowing memories, dark and golden, to encrust your irises.
Measuring the length of your current lifeline,
you find many curves and angles, and couldn't count them all.
Yet, despite your shedding of sweat, the signs of
stars have projected erroneous predictions,
and as particles of anxiety radiate from
your eyes, you cannot help questioning
the remaining angles of life left
and as the pendulum sways back and forth,
your hands tremble at the very thought
of the fogging of your lens, and finally,
the collapse of the mount and the tripod stand.

Hi there!~

Hooray! for extended metaphors!! ^.^

Sorry, I love metaphors. But anyway, it was a good poem, and I think that comparing life to (what I'm pretty sure is) a telescope is interesting, and I'm not sure if anyone has made that comparison before. I think that word choice could have been better in like two places. One example:

allowing memories, dark and golden, to encrust your irises.

I don't know why, but I don't like the use of the word "irises." I think it's mostly because the iris is a physical part of the eye and cannot see memories...actually, come to think of it, irises can't see anything... (I know, I'm a nerd ). But I would use a different word instead of irises...maybe vision? Eyesight? I don't know, I'm just trying to help.

Another thing with that same sentence (and about word choice) is your use of the word "encrust." This could be just me, but I don't really like the word, especially in a beautiful poem such as this. Maybe you could try a different word? Cloud? Veil? Envelope? Just some suggestions.

I hope that I was (somewhat) helpful. If you have any questions about anything I've said, please feel free to PM me.~

SCIENCE POEMS. Yesssssss!!!!! And philosophy interwoven! That's the best kind

*tries to quieten herself and gather up some useful thoughts on the poem itself*

So.

Rarely do I find something that is little at fault here. The themes in this are tightly interwoven, and despite the length of the poem, you manage to get across enough and then some without rambling or going off on an unecessary tangent. Everything in science you manage to link up to some fundamental aspect of human life and experience. But you do so subtly - I notice it vaguely as I read and I appreciate it all the more on a reread. Surprisingly, these are the types of poems I enjoy best - the ones where I discover hidden layers of meaning and metaphor upon subsequent readings. They make the poem a new delight to read each time and they help it stick in my longer-term memory, rather than being just a short flash of inspiration and imagery with little else holding it up together. The interweaving here is seamless, and the vocabulary is interesting enough to keep us reading, but not extravagant or ostentatious. It's quite a balance to achieve!

You look through the eyepiece of life

I object to this as the first line, however. It's too obvious, when the rest of the poem is so wonderfully controlled and subtle - I think the word I'm looking for is 'sophisticated.' That's what this line lacks - it lacks sophistication precisely because it dangles the essence of the poem right in front of us. It's like showing us what a person looks like, naked, before we've had a chance to meet them, say hello to them, ask them their name. Really, the only thing that I find glaringly obvious is 'life' - the rest is fine. 'Life' encompasses something too vast, too broad, too ridiculously abstract and concrete all at once to be in the opening line. Tone it down a bit. It'll work wonders.

Yet, despite your shedding of sweat, the signs of
stars have projected erroneous predictions,

Mmm, lovely alliteration here. The 'yet' breaks the flow a little - just get rid of the comma after it to remedy that .

you cannot help questioning
the remaining angles of life left
and as the pendulum sways back and forth,

Yes, yes, yes. It's all interwoven - great. It's an innocent scientific question that somehow asserts itself only more sharply on the second read (which is why 'life' is alright here, since it's locked into the rest of the poem nicely) as this: what have I left to live? What experience have I yet to have? Which angle / world view have I yet to have on life? Beautiful.

fogging of your lens

I assume we're still talking about world views? I.e., the take we have on life, the way in which we see the world; the LENS we look through?

the collapse of the mount and the tripod stand.

A pendulum suggests continuity, movement, life. The collapse of the mount and tripod stand suggests what I'd say is like a Big Crunch - collapse of the universe; death, effectively. Why end on this note? It's strange, because as fitting as this ending is for the poem on first read, even after, that pendulum of thought is still ringing in my head; it's still swinging back and forth as I want to know what's going on. An interesting effect - although the poem finishes, what it says doesn't, even though it appears to. Perhaps the structure of your poem therefore relates to life itself? I.e. Although it appears to finish at death, it doesn't, really?

Anyway, I'm always pleased when people tackled big questions with science but do so reasonably subtly. Thank you for the read. PM me if you have questions or would just like to discuss something!