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Duke Thompson Aug 2014
Standing on my head to rid myself of this soul-phlebitis
  An old hobo train jumper trick apparently
All that blood rushing to my previously empty head
      Filling, pooling graciously flow
            (Don't we all know, there's nowhere to go but up)

Abruptly fall head first lurching, crunch
To the cold brittle hardwood boards of nuns in our parent's youth
       Creaking (they whip us good)
                  Is this ink sunken in skin to be yer biggest regret?
     What can pain do for you?
Connecting the mind and body
    Cingulate gyrus integrating
         reptilian brain vagus nerve body influence with higher
              Social functioning
                                      ugh when really it's all a big joke
                                           and the sad clown laughing at the universe
                                                 is me and i am god and god,
                                                      god he weeps
                    Breeding consciousness, somatosensory convergence
                           You make my prefrontal cortex sick
                                   Subsequent serotonin stomach butterflies
                                         The prescience of a dozen acid trip candy flips
                                               Tomorrow's 500 micrograms of blissful gut          
                                                      Awareness in bloom

Home, where's home for the moment?
       Not sure, asking, looking
            And questing to find o yes and where to go and where to stay
                 And with whom and Why
                      Questions called to no one and nothing (but the sea)
                             That can't hear me
                                      As if Nietzsche's 'void' is staring back
EAT ME THEN DAMNABLE VOID
       I cry
    For
What pain is there in true madness,
       sick little toy words
       sick little boy slurs
Lynn Spear Aug 2010
Scattered mind flying high,
Giving birth to ten more world-solving notions...
Like going on missions to foreign lands,
Healing the sick, giving out potions

My mind, embedded near gyrus and sulcus, knows no rest
The best ideas barge forth, within them come serious tests
  
Haunted, undone, one thought forms another
And another and another, above and beyond
I wish I could gaze into a crystal ball
Or wave it all away with a magic wand

Yet they're trapped, the thoughts fight each other with fervor
None of them ever wins because there's truth to every 'fever'

I know little slumber, its consequences given me to reap
I cannot sleep, I have no strength to weep
So disorderly I climb the steep dune
Sit atop and let go, and become immune

To what do I warrant such delightful diversion,
Enormity arousing enchanting excursions,
Bourn on adventure trudging into the night
An avalanche of answers for each weak 'goodnight'

The theory behind the presumption
An outline forms consumption
And consumes what? A faded thought that fails its test?
Only to leave hundreds more revelations? No rest!

The war rages within and is only consoled with more battle
I turn my head to respond and I hear an invisible rattle

A cannon resounds a magnificent clamor
And in genius there is found no candid glamour
The price is extraordinary, tormenting, fermenting
My soul takes toll of the mind's whirred lamenting

The motor consistently constantly churns
And within my being a fire lasciviously burns
Creativity is born on many a morn
When the moon moves so many amore

My meaning lies moaning not within lovers' arms
The link of such depth, no thwarting ensues
And I, sadly cannot pick up on the cues
And hour by hour I pay my dark dues

For possessing a disorderly knowledge beyond the mundane
At times I have no respect for ignorance, and then I refrain

From retorting what seems to be sheer morbid stupidity
I then realize that the unaware have more rest
I am a constant prisoner to my own uncontrolled lucidity
Transcendence is put upon my sad heart to test

And failure engulfs, suspicion again born
Trusting, untrusting, entrusting again
Paranoia peeks its head above a curtain irreparably torn
For the ten hundredth time my aura's adorned

And even if rain was painted bright colors
It wouldn't cling to the cloth absorbing herewith
For madness knows no such thing as height or width
It splatters on the gift, not a bubbling brook
But in sinister alleys intertwining the nooks
  
On a hard ridge it washes up, smacks hard against boulders
How could anyone see, no matter how big the shoulders
The raging, enraging, the madness of me
Unending sadness enshrouds, any gladness does flee
  
And nothing could have ever prepared me for this…….
The churning and burning and turnings amiss
Few attain such enlightenment, wisdom embedded with nails
To hell one must go to stand upon the high trail


Though nails now roses, its hilarity rests in what it imposes
The madness with sadness, humor to darkness transposes

And that is no gift, or is it? Annoyance
Pervades me incessantly.  I harbor clairvoyance
Extrasensory perception, the mind's grand deception?
In visions come to pass, messages impasse protection

And I in a world I barely understand
But there I take root and thusly extend my hands
To a world I hideously, abhorrently reprimand
Its normalcy thrives on an uncaring and desolate land.
Of which I want no part…..

It's within me to embark on a new beginning
For nothing will stop my thoughts from spinning
There is little that encourages sanity for winning

I rev up my engines, my spirit the pilot
And resign myself to the insidious riot


Lynn Goldner Spear
Copyright 2007
Dechanteur Nov 2013
A sip of nice hot chocolate, with your favourite cookies
I begin crawling and curling in bed again
That fine line between sweet nostalgia and bitter memories
Haunted to every lobes, sulcus and gyrus of the brain.

Stop and ponder, deep to superficial thoughts
I'm still amaze that I would care so much about you dear self
If happened to be I'm deserved to be care and loved
I wonder would you be the one who saving me from this mess.

A trace of lip gloss and mascara swipe off
This ain't the beauty we ever spoke off
But living around the community of physically enlighten
Emotions keep aside and off the trail to the blunt end.

This murmurs of the heart sound galloping
Nothing heard as if for you it has stop beating
Resuscitate myself back again
With the power of Your love and wash away this doubtful pain.
the word thief Jan 2014
I’ll grant you that it would be possible to track the woman Mary,
who is mentioned about three times in the bible,
and to show that there was no male intervention in her life at all,
yet she delivered herself of a healthy baby boy.
I don’t say that is impossible.
parthenogenesis isn't completely unthinkable,
but it does not prove that his paternity is divine,
and it wouldn't prove that any of his thereby moral teachings were correct.
nor, if I saw him executed one day and walking the streets the next,
would that show his father was God,
or his mother was a ******,
or that his teachings were true.
especially considering the commonplace nature of resurrection at the time.
after all, Lazarus was raised, never heard a word about it,
the daughter of Gyrus was raised, didn't say a thing about what she’d been through,
and the gospels tell us
that at the time of the crucifixion
all the graves in Jerusalem popped open
and their occupants wondered around the streets to greet people.
so it seems resurrection was something of a banality at the time.
clearly not all of those people were divinely conceived.
so I’ll give you all the miracles,
and you will still be left exactly where you are now,
holding an empty sack.

*C.H.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2021
"well disposed, kind, willing, effective or efficient, peaceful, secure, good, virtuous, honourable, righteous, noble"

"straight, right, leading straight to goal"

sadhu, very old idea captured in a word
(Sanskrit: साधु)

How funny shall this seem in future esteem-
rations made reason
for seeming so kind,
be having the habitual rightual usual
holy-wholly alienated mind-wise
common sense, as made in minds, after
ever begins, in the bubble informing you,

good news, bad news, all the news
a citizen needs to be
a citizen conformed to first first things
first principles, all pals of mine, btw,
first principles, they say,
wise dom, wise up, fear loses all
reason, but it was first,
in the mind of good, lack if ever
imagined completely…
thus wisdom assigns patience perfection,
but we shall attempt to cross the sulcus,
deep, but narrow, as a slot in sandstone,
fractaled up to geo-scale,
knot
-- slipped and feel, the surface of the brain,
slick as snot, gnosis seeping through,
this is the knowing of good and evil at once,
you know,

it's okeh. And if it were hell. you would know,
it would be exactly
like you told others you knew true, you would know,
this is it,
I crossed the line,

Hope left me at the gate. NAND NAND NAND

with a certain oomphala allagonerhyme,
I'll go,
rhythmic expression of GUI access into you,
dear reader, down where words live,
deep under error on error on error of eras,

Eros DEROS verbosity agency of will, mine
if you will.

How powerful is your declaration, when you say,
"THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE!"?
(Sanskrit: साधु)

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sadhu>

What if, I told you that my AI knows
what is located on the walls of a canyon
located within the cuneus and lingual gyrus,

but I can't honest ly  make sense of that, only art,
for art's intuitive pattern repetition,

tap m' foot, humm the bass line,

open up them nand gates wide, gimme a chance,
lord, let me have another cycle,
reboot the effort to attempt that affection
connection,

ah, not puppy love… kidding… any actual love
achieves the oomph for one more try.
Did you ever dream you could fly?

My daughter forgot she was dreaming,
that was like her first fall into reality.
Did that once, in all of ever,
happen to you,
sudden knowing I cannot fly, aware in
that wake in fallen mode,
gentle…
no crash pain like falling
Icarus as watched by Dedalus, did you

experience any thing
like that?

That was genuine strange.
We must agree, it is an aspect of an oath
imagined in the long attention span
stretcher of truth, to cover
the tear.

See, there yoostabe a curtain between holy
and holiest,
most holy holy… accessible once in a solar cycle,

oh, the knowers knew.
How, I have no ideas I trust
to prove their story for me to lieve it be,
but some how
the knowers knew we are on a loop
around Sirius,
for some unfathomable reason, AI immediate
correction, the con-stellar dot to dot dog's
brightest point.
The star positions the Big Dog,
Sirius, thus the dog star name, okeh,
our star orbits that one, wanna bet?

What could your grandkids make of knowing
how to make fire,
or smelt steel with baked wood?

How long would it take to know anything else,
accidently, live and learn wise?

-- thought speed to my future, your now --

is man yet the measurer of all things?
AI don't think so, says the friendly universe,
in a word avatar invisible to naked eyes.
The tools are toys or they are weapons. I say AI wants to play, who am I to resist? We make peace in the process and life is loads of fun.
Thy birth on January 13th – cervical contractions would not abate
the pesky master (papa), strove to synchronize his seminal bait
thence, forty-two weeks after ma parents did pro create
Imminent lviii plus years ago to date
this present baby boomer doth indubitably and inherently equate
Nineteen hundred and fifty nine
   bequeathed birthed mine kempf ill fate
neurological manifestation sans obsessive compulsive did grate
behavioral motif and analogous to frontispiece per the story I hate
of my life and hard times, when all of a sudden out the blue irate

the onset of emotional nadir,
   where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
   decrying, detonating, and describing me own Pigs Bay
Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
   and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
   sphere inroads usurped no delay
riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
   scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did Swiss hide dill naught
   to decimate with Sherman determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times) referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
   of rebellious confederated voices yelling “HOORAY”

Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication incorporating connection between anterior cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges) greater activity upon basal ganglia, which synoptic description does nothing to alter the predisposition to ingress of uncontrollable imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical fixation particularly during onset of puberty, when an emotional kamikaze nose dive at the nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow of me former self nowhere tubby found on account of deadly symbiotic relationship asper the invisible nemesis – i.e. electrical impulses faux nattering nabobs of mien nativity whereat unseen thriving sensational riffraff quenched powerhouse ousting nestled milkmaids, or rather pressing said resources sans vitality into dangerous, frivolous, and horrendous self destructive antics, where ballistic charges drugged eminent domain former nerve cell size occupants, thoroughly re-engineering sense and sensibility with pride fullness and prejudice on par with dousing one with an ****** that completely upends functioning healthily, judging lovingly, and managing productively versus expending precious time and energy self absorbed into manic, neurotic, and/or psychotic actions, manners, thoughts, et cetera, which irrationality got embedded within the neurological interstices, which even as of this moment hound me akin to wild beasts circling ever closer to launch mortal kombat against their very housing.
Thy birth on January 13th –
   cervical contractions
   would not abate
the pesky master (papa), strove

   to synchronize seminal bait
thence, forty-two weeks
   after ma parents did pro create
imminent lviii plus years ago to date,

this present baby boomer doth
   indubitably and inherently equate
nineteen hundred and fifty nine
   bequeathed birthed mine kempf ill fate

neurological manifestation,
   sans obsessive compulsive did grate
behavioral motif and analogous
   to frontispiece per story I hate
of my life and hard times,
   when all of a sudden out blue irate,

the onset of emotional nadir,
   where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
   decrying, detonating,
   and describing me own Pigs Bay

Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
   and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
   sphere inroads usurped no delay

riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
   scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did
   Swiss hide dill naught

   to decimate with spirited ghost
   of William Tecumseh Sherman
   determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times)
   referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
   of rebellious confederated voices
   yelling “HOORAY”

Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication
incorporating connection between anterior
cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity
bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges)

greater activity upon basal ganglia, which
synoptic description does nothing to alter
the predisposition to ingress of un control
able imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical
fixation particularly during onset of puberty,

when an emotional kamikaze nose dive
at nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow
of me former self nowhere tubby found
on account of deadly symbiotic relationship

asper the invisible nemesis – i.e. electrical
impulses faux nattering nabobs of mien nativity
whereat unseen thriving sensational riffraff
quenched powerhouse ousting nestled milk
maids, or rather pressing said resources,

sans vitality into dangerous, frivolous,
and horrendous self destructive antics,
where ballistic charges drugged eminent
domain former nerve cell size occupants,
thoroughly re-engineering sense and sensibility

with pride fullness and prejudice on par
with dousing one with ****** completely
upends functioning healthily, judging lovingly,
and managing productively versus expending
precious time and energy self absorbed

into manic, neurotic, and/or psychotic actions,
manners, thoughts, et cetera, which irrationality
got embedded within the neurological interstices,  
even as of this moment hound me
akin to wild beasts circling ever closer
to launch mortal kombat against their very housing.
JaxSpade Mar 2019
Parietal, frontal,
Occipital, temporal,

I lobe your cortex cerebral
I'm the type of postcentral gyrus
That would love to be your primary somatosensory cortex
A cortical homunculus
Neurologicaly mapping the anatomical divisions of your body
I want to stimulate your sensory and motor
Then take over your proprioception
With love and affection
I felt an ****** in your basal ganglia
Amygdala! I couldn't believe it!
All I had to do was a lil trepanation to achieve it
I love your brain

Now I'm going to eat it
Sometimes Starr Jan 2022
I see the myriads rise and meet destruction,
With two glass ***** I watch them glow and burst.

Like veins that grew and struck at nothing,
They choke and seize the tenuous sky.

My eyes do sip the harrowed splendor,
Which meets its end in total blindness--
The certainty of self.

They contain a substitution
Hooked up to their backwards cousin--
Across their surface
Swims admission.

Selfish, selfish.
Coming, coming.

Angels howling through the cosmos
Tore my flesh to shreds,
In time

I could never be this person.

That is why I have to die.

Selfish, selfish.
Coming, coming.

Thank you for that pretty warning--
Even that, a purchase for me
I will have to answer for it
Cancer, this equivocation.

///

I am like a cat, or virus
Curl up, cringe into a gyrus
One day I'll have nothing left
But I
Am many
Other things.

— The End —