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Graff1980 Nov 2020
I cannot seem to write
without rhyming.

It is not a simple matter
of timing
but has become
my mental wiring.

I find other
non-rhyming
poets so inspiring
so deeply
neurally
firing,
sparking
inspiration.

But my brain
has lost the ability
to make any poetry
without playing with
rhymes.
Arawyn Nov 2020
For we see with our eyes
And hear with our ears,
But have a choice to feel with our minds
Or our hearts.
Faeryn Nov 2020
Bolts go with screwdrivers
Wrenches install nails
and life keeps going.

Sadness goes with anger
Empty thoughts will never fill
and life keeps going.
my brain is only a disorganized toolbox trying to organize itself
Kamilla Nov 2020
peel back my skin
carve unto my bone
slicing away layers of flesh
unwinding coils of neurons
remove, reset
remove, reset
rearrange what is left
of me
replace what was lost
by me
and once fully done
glue my pieces back together
place in the bone and seal it
so that my thoughts remain inside
fold back my skin
bandage me up
so that I am new
mae Nov 2020
the mind is only as deep as the ocean is wide, for as people we must attempt to grasp both the mind and the ocean.

but i’m afraid of the water.
Aahi Nov 2020
My heart is more mature
than my brain..
My HEART:- What's the cause of it's more maturity ?
- "I overcome oceans with tyrant waves "
(my heart reply)
My BRAIN:- What's the cause of it's immaturity?
- It never think to step out of its barrier ..
(I replied)
😂MY HEART IS WAY TOO MATURE THAN YOURS..UK?
....STAY HAPPY!
JoyAndPain Nov 2020
my brain is dead.
i cant think straight
my head is blank.
i cant do stuff.

i am an idiot sometimes.
what have i done?
why did i eat that
gross almond joy?

facepalm.
i dont like almond joys.
The parrot has 3 billion neurons in its brain
We have 86 billion
And most of mine are busy
forming unhelpful pathways
Misleading my good intentions.
Still, 3 billion neurons
seems like enough room for a few
unruly pathways


The parrot can repeat phrases
Which we thought to be
pretty cool
So we trapped him
and put him in a cage
And in our living rooms
Alone


The parrot knows how to survive happily
Within his world
Within his world, with 30 others of his kind
And a partner for life.
In his world
he would fly with his flock
To trees to pick fresh fruit
Now he perches on his own
And picks dry fruit out of a bowl.
In his world
he would prune his partners feathers
He would look after her
And she him
Now he perches on his own
And prunes his feathers
until there are none left.


Its an unhelpful neuro pathway, you see?
Some form of OCD?
Maybe its a way to cope?
Maybe its the brain spiralling
Trying to figure out what to do
Because it can't be a parrot anymore
It has to learn to be a toy
A talking point
And the parrot doesn't know how to be that
He only knows how to be a parrot
Birds belong in the wild, not in our homes.
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