"braining" poems - Hello Poetry

I wonder if the big bang was a response to god's loneliness And maybe he sat alone for a long time half braining ideas about making things that might love him God never said let there be light he just put a gun in his mouth and splattered stars across the wall of the universe His black hole brain something like regret trying to **** all the stars back inside And I think about the days you tried But that's not like you kid Even though you had blood spilling out a hole in your gut Bone white shallow breathed There are still stains on the passenger seat of my car Which I now call my living room because I am homeless And there are no walls that could hold the contents of your head like jackson ******* bloodspatter a pretentious painting titled and homage to the ****** of failure And you are not our mother suicide cocktail no ice and you are not our father an Alzheimer's ghost Haunting a history we never lived through You are skinny like water running down the zylephone of your ribcage tinny laughter Asking me questions like if love is as powerful as they say it is in the movies then why do people give up sometimes I'll never give up I said You asked me if I thought god was mad at you the doctor chalked up you living to just luck and I think of when god made molds of men out of mud and breathed into them and the mud men lived Mud must have felt lucky then But for us its not luck we make so much fuss Just so the world knows we're alive as ****

0

Jul 19, 2013

Jul 19, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC

jon-tobias

Untitled

I wonder if the big bang was a response to god's loneliness And maybe he sat alone for a long time half braining ideas about making things that might love him God never said let there be light he just put a gun in his mouth and splattered stars across the wall of the universe His black hole brain something like regret trying to **** all the stars back inside And I think about the days you tried But that's not like you kid Even though you had blood spilling out a hole in your gut Bone white shallow breathed There are still stains on the passenger seat of my car Which I now call my living room because I am homeless And there are no walls that could hold the contents of your head like jackson ******* bloodspatter a pretentious painting titled and homage to the ****** of failure And you are not our mother suicide cocktail no ice and you are not our father an Alzheimer's ghost Haunting a history we never lived through You are skinny like water running down the zylephone of your ribcage tinny laughter Asking me questions like if love is as powerful as they say it is in the movies then why do people give up sometimes I'll never give up I said You asked me if I thought god was mad at you the doctor chalked up you living to just luck and I think of when god made molds of men out of mud and breathed into them and the mud men lived Mud must have felt lucky then But for us its not luck we make so much fuss Just so the world knows we're alive as ****

50

RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5 FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD ***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing Which way they are growing. There's no knowing where they're toe-ing. Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing... ***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin. Is it braining, is it storming? Is a braining-storm a'blowin'? [sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing So the anger must be growing Are the fires of passion a'glowing? Is the grimsly leader mowing? Yes! The anger must be growing 'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing [practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing Any sign that they are slowing! [lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream] Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch! eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch! And, while sparks flew across the slab, The Number 5, with lies and tame, Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab, And burbled as it came!" -- Lewis Carroll Suzy's: It halted, and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal, "I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!" STOP: TURN THOUGHT

0

Feb 13, 2016

Feb 13, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC

RobertZorro

The Letter-Ing: raidho

RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5 FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD ***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing Which way they are growing. There's no knowing where they're toe-ing. Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing... ***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin. Is it braining, is it storming? Is a braining-storm a'blowin'? [sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing So the anger must be growing Are the fires of passion a'glowing? Is the grimsly leader mowing? Yes! The anger must be growing 'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing [practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing Any sign that they are slowing! [lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream] Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch! eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch! And, while sparks flew across the slab, The Number 5, with lies and tame, Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab, And burbled as it came!" -- Lewis Carroll Suzy's: It halted, and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal, "I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!" STOP: TURN THOUGHT

29

Pouring Poring Braining Boring Lulling Sloshing Through this head Onto pages Early stages Of this fret Played strings Don’t bet On Happy Endings Arrgh!

0

Jun 14, 2013

Jun 14, 2013 at 5:42 AM UTC

echo-2

Apple Grumble (food for thought)

Pouring Poring Braining Boring Lulling Sloshing Through this head Onto pages Early stages Of this fret Played strings Don’t bet On Happy Endings Arrgh!

16

Now fascinated. This isn't really a marooned-casual, one man island, bro I'm doing fine kind of thing. (Sounds like a job, not like ~art. I tell myself stuff as if it matters.) I chose this lonely house with the rotting fascia. I send my boyfriend information about cryopreservation, hoping to one day hoard his savagery in a deepfreezer emblazoned with scenes from the trail of tears, so don't get me started on dysfunction. Sort of fascinated with the itsy bitsy spider, with the painted rectangle, with the street walkers and their cellulite visible from the turning lane. My ***** bullet braining radio waves and squeaking a little - it isn't like it's warm until you step into someone's house, the carpet orange and paneling boxing up misfortune - it's cold, it's raining forty nine degrees of october.

0

Oct 16, 2015

Oct 16, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC

Mote

Wearing skirts

Now fascinated. This isn't really a marooned-casual, one man island, bro I'm doing fine kind of thing. (Sounds like a job, not like ~art. I tell myself stuff as if it matters.) I chose this lonely house with the rotting fascia. I send my boyfriend information about cryopreservation, hoping to one day hoard his savagery in a deepfreezer emblazoned with scenes from the trail of tears, so don't get me started on dysfunction. Sort of fascinated with the itsy bitsy spider, with the painted rectangle, with the street walkers and their cellulite visible from the turning lane. My ***** bullet braining radio waves and squeaking a little - it isn't like it's warm until you step into someone's house, the carpet orange and paneling boxing up misfortune - it's cold, it's raining forty nine degrees of october.

7

birds chirp in monotone and music is annoying sounds when I've things going on brain arrest. staring at the nothing beyond my closed eyes makes pictures dance like dust in sunlight, but forgive my impudence when I say that I cause sadness in many hearts... yours seems to fare better but I'm scared of everything falling into angst and apprehensiveness. I don't have the ***** to be a man. I don't have the patience to be a woman. youth presses into my skin like fresh pine needles piercing dead leaves, but I reject such lovely things when I'm braining and trying to be an adult. I'd hate to lose touch at young age, but echoes say growupgrowupgrowup

0

Jul 12, 2015

Jul 12, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC

blessedbylight

Pray for peace internal/eternal

birds chirp in monotone and music is annoying sounds when I've things going on brain arrest. staring at the nothing beyond my closed eyes makes pictures dance like dust in sunlight, but forgive my impudence when I say that I cause sadness in many hearts... yours seems to fare better but I'm scared of everything falling into angst and apprehensiveness. I don't have the ***** to be a man. I don't have the patience to be a woman. youth presses into my skin like fresh pine needles piercing dead leaves, but I reject such lovely things when I'm braining and trying to be an adult. I'd hate to lose touch at young age, but echoes say growupgrowupgrowup

1

redding revulsion i am braining ofyou (we) and i am guilty of it (are on the three double you) one? you brain so much of you while i am so empty ofme i hate the sun of my eyes and i am guilty for it

0

Oct 21, 2015

Oct 21, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC

worm

qpdb

redding revulsion i am braining ofyou (we) and i am guilty of it (are on the three double you) one? you brain so much of you while i am so empty ofme i hate the sun of my eyes and i am guilty for it

5