"amygdala" poems
the issue about emotions
is they cannot be turned off easily
i learned in psychology class
that there's this small part in your brain called the "amygdala" and it controls your emotions
i realized then and there
that i had to decide
"to feel everything all at once, or nothing at all"
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
You answered just a little too fast.
It surprised me.
I haven't seen you in about a year,
And I am realizing I've missed you.
It surprised me.
The last time I saw you,
And the time before that,
You were intoxicated.
It surprised me.
I haven't seen you in about a year,
And I am realizing what you are to me.
It surprised me.
You are a dress without hems or seams.
I hardly know you but you are beautiful.
You are the bullet in the rotating cylinder of the gun to my head.
You dig through my skull and explode my amygdala.
And force me to love you.
You are the jam in the barrel as I pull the trigger.
I fell to the ground in realization:
You both killed me and saved me.
It surprised me.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
A duality of elan vital, two people
Spectres of emotion
Intertwined by a fuselage of bruised skin & tendon
Tissues become orbital, gushing towards grafts
Helixes of snot, **** and lymph
Boy & girl
As they embrace the animating principle and eachother, they fuse
A one piece tapestry adorned seamless with no hem, beginning or end
Always was, always is
Patiently turning to liquid as their being unzips
Lying figures of runny makeup and genetic *****
Quintessence, a texture of synaptic potential
Corpus Callosum
An entirety of self, lost in imbued disintegration
Theory of mind, looped & bound
I will water the thought
Roots envisaged in dystopian amygdala
Piercing data packets with a frost-like intensity
Forgetting our obsolescence moments ago
A neuron dipped in nylon
Theta waves and the non-euclidean crux of dissociation
Ghosts in the machine, your macro god
The sympathies of fractional distillation
Digitised/assimilated unto the nanosphere
Cold hands and brass backs galvanised in oscillated tears
Commodified, sold out and bought
Stretching, from purple, white and black
slowly losing its colour, amorphous in shape
brushed across a smudge, ambiguously chromatic
Monetised flesh god
An eternity bathed in starlight
Cutting an incision in the sky to allow entropy
Divided dimensions of energy
Fleeting and intangible
No longer a delirium of seperation
All semantics become light
As a rusted vehicle passes overhead
And all the worlds questions fade out of existence
Flutters of red tape and foregone growth of practice
Sinew flayed, integrated towards information
Our minds shared
In circuits and resistors
Photons and electrons
We radiate
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
I remember the first time
I felt panic, I
Had been raised in a beautifully-constructed world of my mother’s making where I could
Take my time and step from subject to subject like hopscotch or skipping rope because I wanted to know it all
Drinking it all in, soaking in knowledge like a bath
Learning everything there was to learn
Leaving no stone unturned
No one told me I couldn’t
Swirl my fingertips in acrylics, read books on horses having *** at age seven because I wanted to be a veterinarian, hit the soprano notes though I was an alto, crush dandelions into healing potions, create a world on a stage with crying child actors, nick cardboard boxes and clocks because I knew I could move time backwards
Then I grew up and
The grown-up world was not so forgiving
Examinations, papers, time clocks, meetings, expectations I could not meet with the excellence my soul craved
I can’t breathe
Fear had a choke-hold on my throat
My mouth would dry, then wet as my stomach swirled and groaned with nausea
My hands turned into ice picks
My heart screamed like a jackhammer in concrete
Every possible worst-case, best-case, win-win, lose-lose, lose-win scenario would rush and overthrow my amygdala like a union mob besieging an abusive factory that never closes, never lets them rest
I didn’t realize it was because the only way to do it all and be it all and hit every deadline and finish every task was to sacrifice perfection, to become average, mediocre
Assimilate
And I learned the truth
That that was all the world expected of me anyway
You see there is no patience for anything else in the real world
I can’t breathe
I have no emotion, only thought processes
Paralyzing, debilitating clash between suppressed desires to take my time, create, innovate, learn and the overwhelming need to
Focus, decide, move faster, work harder, be on time, be better, please everyone, be everything
Be nothing
To where the only choice is let go of that part of yourself or go insane
So I shed my skin like it was a sin I was leaving behind
Just to survive
Without the headaches, the heartbreak, ripping my hair out over stupid little mistakes
It’s taken this long to find it in my closet again
To not be afraid
Of the soul it takes to
Perfect
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
I kept oscillating;
in and out of love,
in and out of emotions,
between the familiar realm of raunchy young adult literature and
the new, slightly uncomfortable realm of raunchy young adult life.
I oscillated between dispositions;
between pensive and restless,
***** and
not remembering what kissing feels like,
between the doldrums of despair and the
weightlessness of bliss.
My center of gravity oscillated, too-
from my head to my heart to
my thighs
to the cavernous void in my amygdala that was once abuzz with stupid chemicals brought out by the hysterics of infatuation
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
Emotionless, flowing through a crowd of faceless souls
A net of interactions that I am no longer a part of
Each second I feel less and less, until I'm an empty vessel
On the edge, brain going toe to toe with the devil
Rotting amygdala in the cranium, insanity
Not a single shred of dignity or humanity
Running off no sleep, tobacco and black coffee
No spirit left, except the pack in my back pocket
I want nothing, but need everything
all decisions past made to lead to serenity
Going with the flow has left me alone with no one
Why am I still here, where the hell am I going
Long nights, long days, pretending I'm something I'm not
Self deprecation and loathing patterns, indigenous thoughts
Result is cold and heartless, riskless life to avoid the loss
No solution horizon, mentally falling apart
Fed up, hallucinations gone and messed my head up
Yesterday is forgotten but tomorrow already dreaded
Depression has blossomed, guilt trips and sunken ships
Internal warfare, life is chaos amongst the midst
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
The Anger within me is boiling
The situation seems out of control
The fight or flight responses
Is as primal as it can be.
The amygdala, kicks in
And takes over for me.
But why blame it on primal
Cause religion teaches another
Created by the Father
Born of free will are we.
The choice of being noble
Or primal is in my capacity
So I decide to test my confusion
And see who lives inside of me
A person of free will or
A carnal nature of me.
So when I encounter situations
Which would otherwise anger me
I'd like to bellow in rage
I'd like to make believe
Here my animal is taking over
I can feel his grip over me
The struggle within me is stronger
The ground I'm loosing steadily
I laugh! Where are you free will?
See whose got me now in his grip
And then in the flash of the moment
I see the irony!
Suddenly as if the scene's changed
The reactor becomes the actor
Letting go of a long sigh
The drama comes to a halt.
For in that moment, free will kicked in
My freedom I realized
Yes we are carnal beings
And it's not surprising
Because animals behave just as we
But we are armed with an arsenal
To be infinitesimally good
To be heavenly
If only we listen to our inner wealth
Telling us to above all rise
When we give vent to our free will.
It's that moment to decide.
Anger is worst of the lot of monsters
But alone he's usually not.
He has a lot of companions
His minions are all about.
This matter is not simple
Don't get bogged down in psychiatry
Practice makes one perfect
Tackle your fears and threats
Handle each one steadily
Before long you'll know the signs
Arm yourself with humility
His minions will try wreak havoc
And wound your ability
So stop the amygdala from taking over
Ask yourself is it worth?
What is the worse that could happen
if things didn't go your way.
The answer will be astonishing
When you've discovered your treasure
You'll find the demon's flown
What a relief it will be
You'll feel blessed abundantly
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Leather brown, bomber down, hit the bottom, rise again. The resounding sounds bounce around. It helps to misunderstand the plan, so follow these directives if you can.
Green amygdala your orange eyes create suspense.
Hipster blue, the denim, black boots, and those paperback books.
He walks with attitude,
reads for romance.
Magnetic the charm bringing them in. Stood in the centre as the hurricane spins. Tethered to nothing, not even a creed. A miracle in the making, an empty street, a canvas unpainted, a jewellery box recieved.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
I'm ruptured whole and am considered
inadequate
as my
amygdala slides through the trachea drops to my ventricles falls through the aorta plunges to my diaphragm hits the esophagus crashes to my phalanges. There is no hope.
May I hold something over your cranium?
May I remind you of your neuron imbalance? And yet
you sit and
watch as
my septum separates from the left atrium from the right ventricle from the bicuspid from the tricuspid from the pulmonary semi-lunar valve.
I love you. (Stupid cerebral cortex.)
I love you. (Imprudent Broca's area.)
I love you. (Hopeless frontal lobe.)
I love your nonfunctional mind and functional soul and
Well
this is all a metaphor for unrequited love.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:41 AM UTC
A student of mine sat on the steps
Clenched, clammy, and bulging with strained strength
Periodically overcome by shadows of pathology
This night he begged for help through gaps of cyclical consciousness
A funeral trail for clarity ambled solemnly to the gymnasium
He was surrounded, and they plotted, and advanced, and he was engulfed
They were upon him like a ****** seeking seed or vulture carrion
He seized on an arched back and suffered under octodemons
On that hard wood floor under dead bulbs that swung like momentous pendulums
My student transformed into a tiger leaking rage from rusty cage
Explained in eloquent detail and prophetic tone his will to ****
Blacking out to full extent
He was amygdala, he was instinct
Battling grown poachers until they stole his fearsome fangs
Clipped his claws, and painted over his stripes with calm
When contained, vicious umbra cat turned tranquil
We sat circular and played lobster ball pass with our toes
And talked about buses to New York
His mother taught him to be a songbird
While the streets moved his feet
Goodnight Archery, we hugged
I wonder how he's
Breathing
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
Your cologne is on my shelf
So at least I don’t have to miss your smell
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 12:31 AM UTC
Anger bubbles
like a stream
it hisses
whispers planted like an infectious sore
within the depths of your
Amygdala.
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
A sharp sting in my amygdala,
I am not sorry my amygdala,
For I have abuse you tonight with far too many tequila.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC
Is there a doctor in the house?
I think I'm having southern withdrawl symptoms
shakes and such
brain a blubbering mess
why give one so much feeling
if they can't get rid of it healthily?
Too much for one body to handle
maybe throw in another personality
nothing bad ever happend
just a technical problem during manufacturing
a wire connected wrong
or not connected at all
amygdala super sensitive
looking for comfort in wrong places
stupid faces
blazing aces
therapists are kind but really need a map
words only convey so much
can't help if they can't understand
whose fault is that?
Probably the broken robot
me
doesn't speak in proper vernacular
accustomed to being freakish and safe
greasing joints with *****
circuit boards of tofu scramble
electric feed back every once in a while
when I cough
perhaps new meds will calm overactive internal reactions
or maybe being all vulnerable to candy hearted young men
spilling secrets and insecurities to friends
but they'll all leave
right?
Europeans had no problem taking over lands
staying with natives
eating their foods
but if the natives had shared their deepest secrets and feelings
pilgrims would have gladly returned home for persecution
than to put up with an emotional Squanto.
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
...blame the dreamer, the make-believer, the great play-pretender. blame the girl that picks up every drop of hope off the floor with tweezers. we all want to believe. even if its obvious how dangerous it could be, even when it has dagger-like thorns, and they stab your fingers. we want want want something still even though you will bleed. blame the ambitious one. blame that ******* time that always haunts us. blame the one that tries to defy it. blame loneliness, blame that empty space, that shadow that lingered for so long. blame the encouragement of self-sacrifice. blame basic human instinct, to see, to chase, to conquer. blame the amygdala. but what would it be like, without emotion, memory..it wouldn't hurt to forget to remember. blame energy. blame everything you've ever tried to believe in, wanted with every ounce of passion you had left. blame money, we're all just slaves. blame the unknown course of human life. blame the unpredictability of the circumstances in which you take your last breaths. wherever you would be, would the last scene in your play be a happy one or a tragic ending..or somewhere in between? blame analyzation and rationalized thinking, the fact that things could make perfect sense but your gut tells you differently. blame fear and anxiety, blame what scares you the most in this world. heights, change, being alone. blame the girl that always sees light but is ready for the dark, she is waiting by her windows. shes prepared for the part in the end where the actors bow and you realize, oh, yeah, fuck...this was all just imagined.
blame me. the director. the optimist. blame me, because i picked the thorned rose.
but it was just so, tempting, so extremely beautiful...
......i just take life as it comes.
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 2:22 AM UTC
you are so ****** in the head.
they say "crazy can't see crazy"
but, baby, i looked you dead in the eyes,
and man, someone stirred your brain with a fork.
cerebellum penetrated by tines.
amygdala spooned into their mouths like lukewarm soup.
sliced a knife straight through your hypothalamus.
left the rest to swirl around in that thick skull of yours.
you're used goods, they told me.
you passed your expiration date.
a little too ripe around the edges.
i could see that.
you asked people to palpate your skin,
like checking cantaloupe.
you spit out your seeds in between
inhaling smoke and ******* down liquor.
she warned me that you were a wild one.
rebellion and fierce independence.
all lions and tigers and bears,
sutured together with wolfish teeth
and hyena laughter.
forever breaking out of cages
and biting the hands that fed you.
now if only you could see it too.
or if only i'd saw it earlier.
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
CHOCOLATE EXPLANATIONS
“Right. . .!”
I try to explain it
with chocolates
that she( girlishly )
keeps trying to eat.
I pick a luscious
dark chocolate seahorse
And I say “Now this is. . .”
( and she finishes my sentence for me )
“. . .your hippocampus!”
She squeals. . . delighted with herself.
“That’s correct!”
I praise her
“. . .it’s shaped like this seahorse!”
“And it controls
your memories of you
your “who you are”
your “how your self assembles
its sense of self
. . .with all its past and future mysteries!”
“Yes. . .yes. . .that’s it!
She claps her hands
thrilled to bits
by the familiar telling
the reassurance of sounds.
And this twisted twirl of almond
with a real almond in the centre of it
“. . . is your amygdala!”
She blurts out before me.
“You got it”
I smile.
“Everyone’s got one!
a seahorse & an almond
one on each side of our brain.”
“Now the almond tells you how
to respond to the things
that you’ve assembled
into a sense of self
. . .with the proper emotion
. . .the right feeling.
. . .whether you just like
or love it”
“Oh, I love it. . .I love it!”
She almost sings.
“Now, explain it to me again!”
I give her the finished explanations
and she eats them
with much exaggerated
mmmmming & ohhhhhing.
“I love your explanations
about what’s wrong with my thingy”
She knocks upon her head
like it was a door
to a self that she had
locked herself outside of.
Most times
she doesn’t even know
her name
or who
or what
she is.
But she loves this story of
HIPPOCAMPUS AND ITS FAITHFUL AMYGDALA
She loves
each sound
each word
each letter
each pause
of the chocolate
explanations.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
Note to Self:
*"Dear Self;
GET OVER IT.
GET OVER YOURSELF.
For fuck's sake, man.
Why is it taking so long
to get this out of your head?
What corrupted seed
is planted in your mind?
It isn't worth the Energy you sacrifice."*
Re: Note to Self
*"To whom it may concern:
I know, but it isn't that easy.
I can't just pick up and move on, like you.
I can't just forget the good times and the bad, like you.
I can't just ignore the feelings that flood forth from my Amygdala,
coupled with the memories within the Thalamus and Hippocampus.
It doesn't work like that;
I have to work with it
to worth through it
and I cannot rush it;
You see, I must be patient with you,
and you with me,
Self."*
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
How I tire of you and the looks you give me in the mirror
How I tire of bleary eyed sunny days
(Like I can't see) sun thru smoke fog
Alone I wake, semi truck barreling down my street towards highway
Gray skies do nothing to muffle the noise in the street do nothing
About the metallic pulse in my head groaning dread like a 56k modem
My dowry for this disease of madness - my middle class inheritance
Her white wedding dress and my silymarin milk thistle distress
Equal distance between us like 'we hardly knew ye'
But You, You were to be my wife
Where did you go, who is this woman
Eggshell grown gown olive skinned melanin beauty
How I tire of pretending to like the new you
Like the old me, he that used to be before
It got to me - before the bottle bought and sold me
Tarnished ink blot
Instead of the other way around
Stopped the car, narrow country dirt road red
Backing up now rapidly as can go, in reverse, still too slow still
feels like too little too late, slow out of the gate as always (idiot)
No great escape from falling to saving grace
No night and day, just greater shades of gray
Damage done, iron wrought, frostbitten fingers failing me
'Fate crusades against me'
Yell paranoid eyeing empty white dusted bottle
Sleep paralysis nightmares of bedroom closing in prison cell
Loom over like human beast double lobectomy
Reptilian brain no higher function
Choke down tears of pure amygdala flight fear
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
Following the path less traveled not
*** you must be frolecking Fool King
Energize Invigorate Assimilate Stimulate
Spermatozoon soldiers within veins burlesque uterine
De construct the artery leading the pineal gland
Conduct bypass surgery of the Amygdala Beast
Ache take over the Beat mind the creep off melting
His brain drained Kriss Kross naked leave faded in vain
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
Even though I feel like my heart is bursting,
Technically, it's not the one that's hurting
The heart does nothing but pump blood for the body to survive
It would be unfair to blame it for something it didn't do
but I do blame my Amygdala
for doing such a bad job in controlling these awful feelings I'm not supposed to feel
I blame my lips
for saying your name with the same amount of affection that you do not deserve
I blame my skin
for still feeling your breath spreading on its surface, setting it on fire
I blame my nose
for remembering how good you smell the first time you hugged me
I blame my ears
for not forgetting how your voice sounded when you say my name
I blame my hippo-campus
for not forgetting the look on your face while you were saying goodbye
I blame my eyes
for the tears that you will never shed for me
I blame my lungs
for inhaling even though I have no desire to breathe
I blame my pulse
for thinking that I'm still alive
I blame my myself
for everything because I let you ruin me
I blame myself
for believing that you're still worth it
The worst part is
after all the **** I went through
I still couldn't bring myself
to blame you
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
I'm melting
Icicles crashing
snow fashioned animals
melting from beneath
melting
this ice carousel
******* breaking
cant you hear hear me
I shall hibernate in the eyes of winter. Torpor in the wake of fall.
Crucify the image i made of you
Mount corpus delecti Ensconce The carcass on my ceiling wall
I’m reminded now of that creature when i sleep or i wake
I need this stone of guilt wound around my vertebrae
So it hangs so it hangs so it sways with the weather vane
So it hangs so it hangs
So it slowly brings feelings again
We need this Contrition On the roof of our eyelids
To the struts of our mouth guilt through your body infest
Every nook and cranny
I crush all these blown glass animals. They all try and creep to my brain hiding in the amygdala
Take shards of them
Ingest them
Carve your likeness in my arms
No beat can hit me hard enough
No stone breaking bones could slough
How this carnival creature menagerie
Has destroyed all my self conscious stockpile
Esteem was a book that sold millions of copies and mine burnt up
The firemen. Came and disintegrate the pages in a pile a mass grave of individual triumph
Carousels destroy childhood
Holding hands destroys manhood
Just when you think you can finally stomach the ride
Those fingers course up your arm down your throat and pull out your insides
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
Which part of me would choose?
For it is cold in my mind and warm in my heart
If only I knew what goes on within your mind
So perfectly flawed
I could crawl into your brain...
The simple masterpiece of all I've seen-
" pure beauty" is a mere insult to the magnitude of its indescribable wonder
Peering through the amygdala
I'll see your past in awe-
At how it's brought you here,
A creature so wonderfully subtle with tongue
And bold in nature:
Sui generis.
I'd love to journey through the thoughts of you
Through and through I'd wander
And wander always turns to wonder
To be electrified by your synapses
And burnt into oblivion-
A million pieces of me
Becoming blended within
Something wholly powerful
Is but a dream
Locked behind
The gazing brown puddles
Reflecting the moonbeam
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
Once upon a time flesh was my lover
and I was wrapped in its sturdy density
held together by the epidermis
made mobile by
my army of Vertebrates
to stand tall
and strut
when possible.
Vain was the brain
the cerebrum conspired with the nerves
to move me to its bidding
to walk, to run, to coit
and afterwards do some grocery shopping
the heart was worse than the brain
in its dramas and insinuations of love
that made the poor gastrointestinal tract
a home
to the alien and willowy creatures
such as butterflies
tsk
and I
am shaken
to my very core
all my molars and incisors grinding itself
for its beauty is its pain
The brain was betrayed
by its own Amygdala he he he
Yes, I remember all the mechanisms working
In their own tiny kingdoms
serving the benign John or Anna or Sarah
even if it just a simple task of jacking off
if you could picture the neurons
stretching elastic to reach
that mental part
where both ****** and fear reside.
Still in the end when the earth eats you whole
like the predator it really is
all that is left is me
bare bones
a proof of greatness or mediocrity
stark and irrefutable
even if vanity denies the meaning of my bareness,
by inventing the soul.
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC