"brained" poems
There once was a hero who was mute,
A musical hero, to boot!
His fingers did not strum
A guitar or tap a drum;
He saved the kingdom with a flute!
-------------------------------------------------
A soldier clouded by strife,
To have love lost like a life.
Finds beauty in flowers,
Destroys evil powers,
While wielding an oversized knife!
-------------------------------------------------
An army of soldiers well-trained,
Though, in action they seem dead-brained;
Hit with his own bomb,
That one knows your mom,
It’s a battlefield of the deranged.
-SLuR
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
(Rock Lake, Canada)
In this country there is neither measure nor balance
To redress the dominance of rocks and woods,
The passage, say, of these man-shaming clouds.
No gesture of yours or mine could catch their attention,
No word make them carry water or fire the kindling
Like local trolls in the spell of a superior being.
Well, one wearies of the Public Gardens: one wants a vacation
Where trees and clouds and animals pay no notice;
Away from the labeled elms, the tame tea-roses.
It took three days driving north to find a cloud
The polite skies over Boston couldn't possibly accommodate.
Here on the last frontier of the big, brash spirit
The horizons are too far off to be chummy as uncles;
The colors assert themselves with a sort of vengeance.
Each day concludes in a huge splurge of vermilions
And night arrives in one gigantic step.
It is comfortable, for a change, to mean so little.
These rocks offer no purchase to herbage or people:
They are conceiving a dynasty of perfect cold.
In a month we'll wonder what plates and forks are for.
I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.
The Pilgrims and Indians might never have happened.
Planets pulse in the lake like bright amoebas;
The pines blot our voices up in their lightest sighs.
Around our tent the old simplicities sough
Sleepily as Lethe, trying to get in.
We'll wake blank-brained as water in the dawn.
3.8k
In Italy in 2017
A medical miracle
Will be seen;
A transplanted head.
They'd better get it right.
They didn't say which one.
Above the shoulders?
Below the waist?
Another ********
To dinkthink.
A hard-headed
Limp-brained head-banger.
Or did I misunderstand.
Perhaps it's woman's to a man.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Never have i felt
So much pain
Explosion after explosion
Of pain
My head feels too heavy
For my weary neck
My stomach churns
And i cant eat
or sleep
I cant think
without my mind hurting
Every light now
even at its dmmest
Is too bright
And it hurts
and noise now
Kills me inside
Theres just too much noise
Im so scatter brained
Nothing makes sense
I cant remember anything
And it scares me
I cant do anything
And i hate it
I cant move
Or ill hurt
But i hurt
If i dont move
Torture pure torture
Thats what this is
God help me please
I just dont know
How i will get through this
If im alone
Laying in the darkness and silence
That has become
My only friend
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
Here's to the...
Calorie counter
Long sleeve wearer
Excessive water drinker
Mirror believer
Professional over-thinker
Clever liar
Hair puller
Tongue biter
Thigh hater
Toilet bowl hugger
Magazine lover
Belly fat ****
At home cryer
Bedroom hider
Internet follower
Social stink bug
One sided therapist
Friend loser
Terrifying truth
Reality dodger
Space-brained
Nicknamed
Love rejector
Anxiety collector
Roller coaster rider
Personal antagonist
Perfection chaser
Hopeless dreamer
Nothing achiever
Unnoticed angel
Silent rainbow
Blood seeker
Soul-searching rebel
Wilting rose
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Spirit and matter
The light and the dark
left and right brained
the Ying and the Yang
an outspoken mute
a chaotic plan
mortal and eternal
a pacifist Warrior
ambidextrous hands
A foot on the ground
A head in the clouds
Silence and sound
A teacher a pupil
Reserved with no Scruples
A genius a fool
slave and the master
man I am God
feline and dog
reason and Insanity
A well planned Calamity
I am BALANCE
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
The corner of the table in the garden,
it has been given to an upright man;
Einstein's town heated lion dance lights leather soccer,
Peter Daniel was enough to bring soil to face toward
the early women like a fur coat, the abstract
is contained in the embrace of the shadows of prostitutes;
fame went out concerning the impact of the fire
was seen at, as much as for the other party;
thou hast given to look to the waves to move out
of another man's; Seemed to be in Latin and known
as the state, and how it takes to read a new, hot sweat-BRAINED,
I am standing in the midst of the country,
where there is truth in these people dwelt; that,
either through the skin he was taken away;
a teenager in the garments of the goddess
is to start near the ulcer in the knees & in the return
of his book on the state of beatitude, football is right
for the chief men of the city; CIA,
dying, leave there a part of the lady in width,
pure, thin, Oh, the prince of the valley,
the shame of the course; in the middle
of the night I will take away the barriers
of the mind contrary to the spirit of the place
of the held tongue, enlarged by the Asian shore
of the clear deep knowledge impedes
to all these investors have already thirty-eve
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
i'm hurricane-brained,
and fading faster than i
could hope to explain
- m.f.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
Paratroopers free fall,
'chutes coiled and caught in a grease ball afro curl
reaching down perplexed ****** frames.
Diligent chortling mimes trapped in handmade indecision cages, tapping a telling tune of tired games played day after day.
A right brained boy with a head full of clout
miscommunication with a leftist expat from the north
to the south.
Jostled connections send out fizzling sentences
through blown speakers and an overheated circuit -
Bored of the excuses whispers the nameless
without a reason there isn't a purpose.
Shoot an accusing glare past Father Time
overlooking treasonous discouraging crimes
Open those whale blubber caked eyes
to the other side.
It's not what this has done to you
but what this has done to us.
The hitchhiker gave up, traded his thumb for a seat on the bus.
Never was he lost, but given more than one chance.
He, no, she, no we
were thrown away with his walking stick and his waterproof nap sack.
Will we cross this road again?
And pick up from where we began?
Or never turn back?
Always was he lost, but given one too many of a chance
But was it worth it?
Upholding the "right and proper" stance?
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 12:08 PM UTC
i enjoy england
with its little houses
hips brushing, faces smushed
together to revel in quaint rumour
among gentrified lilies and pink
lady apples that blush in the summer
its walkways and alleys
dribbles of soft lamplight guiding
the drunkard, moth-brained and ill
with silk threads to a blind spot
of amber where muck can be spilled
the people on transport
with their airy talk, their mindless
silence, heads lolling idly on
windows, eyes crumpling like napkins
against the leaking crumbs of warm scone sun
pretty little England
where exploitation is vintage
and runs like rosé
down the dusty store windows
here we are free to stumble
down streets with sweat
in our hair and manic karaoke
reverberating off the walls
glee drinking is government protected
I'm quite in love with england,
this field of dew and white roses
fed by gore and sweet tradition
where fresh-faced, sunny children play.
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 9:48 AM UTC
you straddled
my mind with
the way you
drew a narrow
line between
what i knew
about you and
what i have
come to find
but you raddled
my body with
addle-brained
designs, never
once drawing
one of a benign
kind.
© Matthew Harlovic
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
I am a paradox
I am 'brilliant' yet scatter brained
I wonder if I even have a brain at all
The gentle thumping of my heart tells me that I'm alive
But yet I see no evidence that this is all a reality
I walk in slow motion day after day
My mind is everywhere but where I presently am
I don't focus, but yet I retain
The sounds of the human life surrounding me tells me that I'm not the only one here
But what if it's all an illusion I built up in my head to keep me happy?
I'm not happy, so why do I wear such a happy tranquil face?
My mind is raging a World War III within itself
I won't win
My destiny is to lose
To lose the reality that I'm not even sure is really there
To lose the gentle thumping of my heart that tells me that I'm alive
To lose the soft buzzing of the human race that surrounds me day after day
Does anyone even notice where I am?
I am lost, to myself and to others
You don't see, yet you are my father and my mother
You say you know me better than myself
So why can't you see that my biggest wish is to rid myself of myself?
One day I will be gone
Gone
Gone
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 8:16 PM UTC
let me introduce you to my old friend
Jax (Jackson) Hate
ladies and gentlemen
tell 'em about yourself
why don't you, you're the writer
I've known Jax for as long as I can remember
UK to US
kids to teen to?
*to a sentimental ***
He's an ******* but he's my *******
He kept me safe
kept me laughing
when I was lost he found me
stop you're making me wet
I love him
really - I do
I'd love me too
The scruffy, scatter brained, *** crazed, sarcastic sociopath is more than blood to me
My imaginary friend who leaped straight from somebody else's nightmare to rescue me
You looked so pathetic, let's be honest, I didn't really have a choice.
He was the one who went straight for the cricket bat in playground scraps
taught me everything I know about manipulating women
You'd still just be loving your right hand every night if we never met
Yeah, but I'd still be in college
*Yeah? Rotting away with the other soon to be bovine corpses? Stellar plan my man. ******* A*
No, now we rot alone
Smells more like waiting for the legend to take hold. We'll own this world by proxy.
Me, I'm a kid who writes
Jax?
He's a murderer at heart
the hurricane to my calm, rippling koi pond
You forget I'm a misogynist.
I don't know if he's here to stay
I don't know if I ever want him to leave me
no longer mutually parasitic
*the ******* end*
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
Christine stood
at the ward window
peering out
at the snow
you stood beside her
smelling the perfume
she wore
the one she was going to wear
on her honeymoon
had the ***** shown up
as she told you
a few days before
snow looks like icing
on a Christmas cake
she said
hope to Hell
I’m out of here by then
me too
you said
as long as the quack
don’t fry our brains
with ECTs again
better not have
she said
gives me headaches and ****
look at that tractor
out there in that field
see how those gulls
are following him
through the snow
she followed your finger pointing
like a ship at sea don’t it
she said
you stared up
at the greying sky
cloudless
and end of worldish
could have been
on my honeymoon
some months back
she said suddenly
could have been
well *******
and sun blessed
guess so
you said
instead I get brained fried
by some doc
in a white coat
don’t see how
he could have let you down
like he did
you said
that bridegroom
of yours
gutless worm
she said
leaving me standing there
in that white dress
and headpiece
and those fecking
pinching shoes
you sniffed her perfume
looked at her sideways
her eyes scanning
the fields and trees
her night gown
beltless
(in case we take
to hanging ourselves)
opening
to show legs
and night dress
hanging by the knees
she breathed
on the glass pane
breathed it up
and wrote
with her finger
no more ECTs.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
his beady eyes track me down from across the motel parking lot,
making a perfect triangle between
me, you, and the car that stands as the only means of escape
the motel is humid, dumpy
it is clear a young lady from suburbia Georgia does not belong in these neck of the woods
he knows that.
on me like moths to a flame,
but more viciously
an aggressive beast in the early hours of dusk
(this is where I see the primitive side of men- the man attacks, while I am still deciding to fight or flight)
I can choose to keep walking, disregard his uncivil pursuits
but I was Orpheus in the fire pits of Hades' fortress
this only provoked him more
licking his lips, he was on me
...
..
.
Mom?
Mom can you hear me?
Mom I don't know where I am and
and it's so cold
I can't feel my legs, I don't know what's between them anymore
I'm bruised, I'm bleeding
No, I don't know where I am
it's all
dark
and we're moving
The stars don't shine here, it is all rough and concrete slums
I can't find our northern light to find home
no, there is no batman sign projected in the sky to assure me I will be located soon
Mom, the night is endless
If I am not in this realm anymore, you know who took me out of it
I can only hope you can find my empty shell that once held my spirit and energy
i'm by the grasses,
I spoke to the night owls through the screams that startled them
but they were not too upset, I would only feed them later on
my fingers are holding onto the grass like a tiny blade of green can support my 119 pound body
i'm in a shallow area, I just want it to be morning
Mom, I wish I was a kid again
because mom, look at who I am now?
who the **** have I become?
my face swollen, chopped into bits, the literal, physical definition of scatter brained
and i'm sorry you had to read about it in next week's paper
you couldn't catch me in time- tag i'm it
but the line was cut short,
phone connection dropped
and now i'm gone.
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 9:15 PM UTC
My feet planted
down
my toes
Like
roots absorbing spiritual minerals.
Wanting to get
closer and closer to the divine.
Exploring and searching other dimensions. But not succeeding.
There is more spiritual minerals I will need.
More of my chakra points I should feed before I proceed
in order to give my life more meaning.
When I walk upon her grounds
I feel that she is dying
when I listen to her sounds
I hear that she is crying
the poker faces on trains, buses and planes
live a life that lies and
all of our natural attributes have run away
from our polluted bodies.
The essence of who we really are now
a fairytale fantasy twisted and manipulated…
man-ipulated…
mans truth has been pushed
into a dark hole in our hearts and minds.
The government is now cunning
and the religious now ignorant
this left-brained
trained
highly deranged society
now dances with the “devil” blinded by his darkness
unwilling to know truth
we have bittern her grounds
and now she is sick
we are her tumor
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 6:12 PM UTC
It wasn't until the sixth century that the Christians
decided animals weren't part of the kingdom of heaven.
Hoof, wing and paw can't put money in the collection plate.
These lunatic shit-brained fools excluded our beloved creatures.
Theologians and accountants, the same thing really,
join evangelists on television, shadowy as viruses.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
As an empty drum
The loudest noise make,
So doth a feather-brained
Drake.
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 1:43 AM UTC
When you gonna put my separate selves together
When you gonna make my disparate children gather
Such a silly mind, say the opposite of what you really mean
Just to get a rise, wanna make me rise to the wrong occasion
M-M-M-M My Pleroma
My Pleroma strikes a mystic chord of memory
Better angels spark a dream, get the better of me
Nature takes hold, goes bold, breaks cold sweats we wake up from
Scatter brained by upside two-by-fours keep score struck dumb
Gotta fill it up, fill it up with cuisine
Gotta take a pill, **** it! (Know what I mean?)
Big pet peeve bug drives a crazy fix-it man sane
Till the time ticks past the track, misses the train
Gets back to the place to where we once belonged
Waterloo derailed, revolution curtailed, narrative sing-songed
Everyone repeat after me: Eat a great meal, feel good with friends
Put your arms around loved ones, make means meet ends
M-M-M-M My Pleroma
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
Child hood,
growin good,
makin bad I always had,
me i got,
free I thaught,
never wanna grow old
never wanna grow cold,.
I had me an imagination jump from the top,
when I'd fall I'd just never stop
I hit the ground was so gray,
heard no sound left mother cray,
when I had her now she's strained
got a hubby heart it drained,
has no word her head de brained,
got no mommy till this day,
got a shelter,
bed I lay,
I just think so hard to blink
got me adderall can't be mad at all
lets me know this world,
Be loe..........
I miss my jane we plan to mary when she dips my mind gets scary
its so wack to watch this show,
wanna dip glow be some fairy.
still stuck in my world ms. peter pan
I'm just lost on my cheater plan....
to move on,
with me,
got my lost feal,
moms coss.
Helpa with the move
imma toss.......
Jesse Mckush facebook
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Bach's "little fugue"
played while figure eights
whistled in my head,
along with mathematics
to an un-equilibrium point
where self-confidence
meets self-doubt.
So, in
illusions created by the exact same demons
that saw the bottom from the top
and the pope as part of a conspiracy,
I created a theory, and ended in a padded room.
I painted spots on walls not assimilating
anyone others works,
became my own victim,
committed to rationality
while acting eccentrically.
Visions came to me, I sought refuge in them,
things I saw the real world calls bug-brained.
There I envisioned the cosmos as a limit imposed
on one's relation to self. I saw the dynamics of human conflict
as interludes of forced sanity.
I went as quick as I came.
forced into what I don't want to do
I enjoyed the chorus arranged in my head.
Like a game between people I don't understand.
I sneak into Princeton and proved the existence of God. in red sneakers unaware my theory was economic realism.
Then I rejected voices.
And won the Nobel Prize.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Can you smell the little pastries cooking down the hall
Can you hear the sound as my heart begins to crawl
Interlaced corridors of cordial metaphor
A coffee cake pace in a curious position set a forth
Can you see how sensual measures make me shake
Can you feel that you are my love's potentate
Lost in a scatter-brained impulsiveness to force annealing
Chasing that radiant love that feels like constant healing
Knowing that it is pouring in half of your soul
Knowing that equally given will always equal a whole
Giving all the potency of love a spirit can possess
Realizing that Love was never really a test
But more falling into a breathtaking abyss
Lost in the epicness of her every kiss
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 9:12 AM UTC
Middle class tragicomedy turning darker everyday
breaching past the line of typical dysfunctional
with every dark blue bottle of ***** and
orange plastic pharmaceuticals fraudlently prescribed
black swollen bruises on mom's face
****** up you asleep drink in hand
with the tv still on drink
while mom cried in the youngest's child's bed
the eldest kicked out for doing drugs
me on the bathroom floor learning how to disembowl a razor
and carve it into my flesh.
West Texas camping trip when you bought a motorcycle
and said have fun
and I crashed into a ditch
and snapped my leg in half
and the helmet flew off
did you know that if you hit your head hard enough
everything before and after will feel like a dream?
and that's when it all got darker
as a 15 year kid dying in West Texas
having lost his will to live 1 year earlier on a plane leaving California
waking up in an ambulance
remembering nothing but knowing two things.
My name is Kyle, something bad has happened.
Born again in a hospital bed
surrounded by strangers claiming to be family.
Leg bones snapped in half
then drilled with titanium
and the pain never went away
not for a second
you took all of my pain pills
you held the medical bills over my head
you told me that it was my fault that I crashed
and yes it was my fault
but I didn't buy the ******* bike
and I didn't want to ride the ******* bike
and you can say whatever you want
because I'm crippled now
and my memory is broken
and I have a headache that doesn't go away
but deep in this broken body of mine
there's a silence that speaks for itself
there's a sadness that doesn't hate itself anymore
there's a tear that refuses to fall
there's a hatred reserved only for you
there's a love born out of spite
a beautiful tortured brilliant love
with room for everyone but you my loving father
my loving oblivious father
sick brained hateful father
and me your victim limping away
from the scene of your crime
that was my childhood.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Sorry, dude. I must admit
I find it more than pathetic
That you experience life
With sorrow about some of it
That you don’t have a drug
To take to help appreciate
Something that is amazing
And really needs no chemical
To help you exaggerate
What is really going on
And pretend it is better
Or somehow transcendent
As if water can be wetter.
But it is as if time warped
And I have gone backward
To talk to myself about it
And then zapped forward
To see what a saturate
What a wet-brained fool
I was back then, it’s true.
I was a tin-plated tool.
I measured my existence
One dime bag at a time
Giggling with stoner friends
About my forays into crime;
Selling backs of skunk ****
When nobody else had any
Good stuff or bad stuff.
And I was the one with plenty.
Walking through Hollywood
With stoner friends and flakes
Singing as we stumbled along
About life and what it takes
To satisfy *** hounds those days.
*** drugs and rock and roll
And pride in our half-witted ways.
Learning how to roll pinners
Of a buddy’s stash on the sly
While he was taking a whizz
And couldn’t ask me why.
Learning how to properly treat
The remaining sticks and stones
And confiscating the roaches
When the others left them alone.
That was the cannabis coalition
The Sativa Society at its height.
We worked in the daytime and
Got ********* most every night.
And sooner or later, on the job
In the bathroom or on the roof.
I didn’t think of it addiction.
I still needed further proof.
I needed to try to buy ****
From a government man I met.
Fortunately I bailed on that
Before adding one more big regret.
Life has gotten better since then
No more outside dependence.
I quit before the drugs became
The entire focus of my existence.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 6:32 PM UTC