"brainpan" poems
Open mouth,
Exhale smoke rings of equations and formulas revealing answers only discovered with the liberation death brings
Disperse your arsenal of gray matter upon me
While I absorb your reality T.V. and high school science projects
Accepting an empty proposal
Negotiation always on your terms
You spit game with out passion
Inhale sentences of herbal essences--
Burning like open flame on my voice, stealing my breath
Never stumbling over mistakes or transgressions
Dominating any and all fields of study with which you choose to fill your brainpan
I submit unwillingly in this prison,
in this prison for eternity.
How enveloping
This overload of pumping adrenal glands, excreting testosterone and overzealously prejudiced masculinity
Lack of understanding for femininity and sensible comfortability
Close your eyes
Heavy lies the head that wears the crown
So content atop a pillow bursting at the seams with $20's
1, 2, 3.
Knife. Fork. Spoon.
Drifting
Hundred dollar bills bouncing over the moon holding the cow's hand as you count your materialistic disguised happiness.
I can't read your poker face
I can't keep up
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
The worm he dances swiftly up the ankle of my bones
He crests the waves of belt buckles and hips as smooth as stones
One wiggle closer to the prize
Of brainpan thoughts and wandering eyes
He brings with him a quaint disease
It breathes a wind that buckles knees
The knees that kept me standing, kept my pupils locked in line
Now this black worm has edged into the highway of my spine
The spiral steps and collar bone, a temporary hurdle
Luckily his slippery frame were made for such a battle
So up he goes to dive into my choppy, brainy sea
And loose the anchor off his ship, infecting happily
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 12:16 AM UTC
Perched on crescent moons afloat
The tired constant tides
Of earthbound seas and crumbling hills
To which awake abides
For dreamy heights
Met deep within
My dreamy brainpan sea
Are best observed from far too high
Than waking lets me be
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
Here! Take this stick
They are coming for you
This is the fight of your life
you versus the lions
with naught but a stick in your hands
the distant roars a constant reminder
of the shadows in your memories
you cannot cry out for help
with an elephant on your chest
you can't even turn away
From the trainwreck of your life
drugged in a chemical cocktail
that your genes made for you
forced into your system
by little sensitive triggers
or really nothing much at all
a roller coaster you never wanted on
buckled in and you can't get out
you can't get out
you cant' escape the darkness
that closes in on your vision
or the racing of your heart
hammering and fluttering all at once
terrified that this is how you die
while also kind of excited
knowing that you are dead anyway
what is one day sooner?
it would be so easy
just a little slip and a bit of blood
or a quick trigger and a bullet
the brainpan goes squish
it would be so easy
to drop this stick and fall upon it
like some old fashiioned tale
I wish I could help you
to tell you that stick is really a wand
and you are capable of magic
with a flick of the wrist
you can start to change it all
that the lions are real
but they are very slow
with gums instead of teeth
that these shadows are only there
because you did not add light
they will recede and never leave
but they also won't have control
I wish I could help you
but all I can do
is remind you that what you hold
is not just a stick
and that you are not just sick
you are not your condition
but made of starstuff and determination
that you once had dreams too
and how much I love
the legacy of your heart
written in your eyes
pain and joy and compassion
I wish I could tell you that I too
learned to use that magic
that my lions became kittens
soft and sweet with just a little bite
and my shadows became shade
that I rest under when the world is too much
because it always will get that way
you will have good days
and bad days
and both are ok
it's not easy to wave that stick
it's not easy to roar back at the dark
this is the fight of your life
but you, and your life
are worth every swing
because you are perfect
and kind
and made of magic.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC
you will yourself into existence
but with every blink of the audience
you disappear
and fade into unseen hurt and despair
your mascara is waterproof
but the tears are real
don't have to pretend
privacy is a recent illusion
now that your name sparkles like champagne
they call you a match made in heaven
but your heaven is a hell made of matches
and moments you stumble are never yours alone
never yours to keep
fickle and written in pixels
your reality is but a fairytale
always ends in loneliness and paralyzing pain
never pretty
and at the flick of a switch
your undying love is unborn
your greatest achievements once again torn
blind money only leads the famous to be poor
and at the end of fruits of labor
stands a firing-squad with imperfect aim
another limb is torn from your once perfect flesh
they could never lend ears to your scarecrow screams
and within moments written as you blink and flash your lashes
you secretly long for the mercy of a kill-shot
maybe through the brainpan
or maybe through the heart
but all that rings out in your diamond decorated ears
are the silent memories of fake explosions
and the echoes of senseless regret
and in the quiet of night
your nightmares paint you atop a throne of broken dreams
beneath a fickle crown forged from your own porcelain skin
see they scraped it off your back when they clipped your wings
and now that their spite fills your veins like poison
it's a fight to the death
poison against poison
the fountain of youth knows no kindness
so you lash out and turn to the promise of a needle
a momentary stab at eternity
and from your fake flat-lining face
springs a fairytale to remember for the ages:
pass over my grave and know this
not eight feet below lies in wait
a smile so eternal
or a frown
depending which way you're facing
but it's mine now
forever
and never again yours
to take.
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC
a kidney bean
once became lodged
deep inside
my ear canal
and i don’t think
i need to remind you
how a sweet polyp
like that
will sprout roots
among the white axons
grow throughout the squid
and drink in salvation
from the brainpan
god knows
i’ve tried what i can
even
turned to the
purgative artillery
strong medicine for sure
but
my throat muscles
only strained and expelled
a bulky stool
so gassy
and when
the shaman
sat atop me
with his covey of broken clam shells
scraped the flesh from back of
my neck
wouldn’t you know it
the beast only sneered
from the hole and spat
so i guess
i’m resigned now
to co-exist with my friend
and no
as you’ve gathered
it’s not a symbiosis
but i’ll get by
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC