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Salmabanu Hatim Jul 2018
She was beautiful,
The moon scowled at her beauty,
The Sun shied away from her,
The stars flickered with jealousy.
Nothing mattered to her,
She was complicated,
Her mind was a tangled mess of thoughts.
All I wanted was to sit beside her,
Gently untie the knots  in her neurones,
Connect to the correct ends of the
dendrites,
Let her talk,
Spill out her secrets and frustrations
See her awaken,
Hold her tight and never let her go.
Ethan Moon Feb 2016
"That the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!"

. . .

"Vanity of vanities," says the Preacher. "All is vanity!"*

. . .

I've been thinking too much. Help me.

. . .

What am I without words?
Others's words?
Copy and paste, copy and paste, copy and--
Pastel my mind with your philosophies,
For I am made of mirror neurones, feeling
What is not mine,
Empty with empathy.
I don't deserve your grief,
And I can't say I'm worth your pound of flesh.
Your stars are my pixels,
Your prison is my escape.
I wear your truth like veil--a lie.
Tear me in half,
Crack the cornerstone,
Break my mind palace; my temple.
Write on my heart, my mind, again.
Write these words
Hamlet, Ecclesiastes, Twenty One Pilots.
victoria Oct 2017
My father
Sick of motor neurones
And holes in the aorta
Has made a decision
Full of heartache and pain
I support
I understand
But the darkness has returned

He has started the journey
The process has begun
I will be by his side
I will hold his hand
I will fight back my tears
My aching heart will stay hidden
But the darkness will come too

I must be brave
For him I must stay strong
He will be frightened
He won't know what will happen
After he has left his body
Does he still believe in God
I'm not sure
I should ask him
I wonder if darkness has got him too.
I guess a lot of poetry will come from me during this heartbreaking time that lies ahead....
archana Jun 2017
scintilla - a tiny brilliant flash or spark; a small thing; a barely- visible trace.

a beating of a heart,
euphoria,
a scintilla.

a firework of neurones
almost a burst of panic
a scintilla.

a brush of the lip,
flutterings in the abdomen,
a scintilla.

a sharp intake of breath
inflation of lungs
a scintilla.

a soft goodbye
a shadow of gloom
a scintilla.

a crack in the heart,
a browned vignette,
a scintilla.

a disappearance,
happiness then, despondency now
a scintilla

a faded spark,
the lost scent of vanilla,
a scintilla.
a once scintillated sensation, now a mere vibration. hearts can break over the years, or sometimes in a matter of seconds.
Lexander J Aug 2015
You're pretty and you know it
using those glassy eyes to tame -
my heart's suckered 'n you know it,
post-*** love purely (surely?) to blame

my mind melts as I grow weak at the knees
your gaze flitting from sultry to predatory -
blood gushes, adrenalin flushes
sweat dripping upon my skin lust-crazy, expectedly

oh I'll burn these nervy butterflies
with this blistering searing fury,
argh, stop this Pretence girl
'cause it's just starting to bore me -

Mind Control to Inner Soul;
"what's your status?"

Inner Soul to Mind Control;
"help! The guts are dead and the heart is fractured!!!"


my body slowly dying, polluted sick
with the caustic affection you instil
"WARNING; cytoplasmic deterioration imminent -
extreme ******-***** overkill!"


for now I know I must give up the chase
the Neurones have received a final transmission (oh please no, it can't be);

"This is .. Inner Soul to Mind Control..
we're all so tired.. so tired .. so .. sleepy - - -"


*CLICK
Zywa Sep 2023
Notre-Dame, she is quite old: although she may
bury Paris, which has witnessed her birth, one day
But in thousand years or more, Time will make recoil
her heavy body, like a wolf does with a bull
and twist each iron axon, each of her neurones
to gnaw alas, with its blunt tooth, her bones of stones!

Many men will overflow the island in the Seine
to contemplate the barren ruin, the last remains
dreamers, re-reading what Victor Hugo has seen ahead:
- Then they'll think they see the old basilica
as it was, mighty and magnificent, a Gloria
rising up before them like the shadow of a dead!
Poem "Notre-Dame de Paris" (1832, Gérard de Nerval, collection "Odelettes", 1834/1853)

Novel "Notre-Dame de Paris" (1831, Victor Hugo)

Translation contest "The Netherlands translates" (2023)

Collection "Reaching out"
'Ain Syuqriah Dec 2013
you
I could write you poems with flowery language and fancy words
Or I could write you a song
But no amount of words can possibly describe how I feel about you
It's really vague and I'm very unsure
And a spark can turn into a flame which would most probably end in a catastrophe
That is why I choose to ignore the electrical signals transmitting in my neurones
I choose to ignore the feelings you're making me feel
Helen Oct 2015
I left you
seven hundred miles ago
with a note that read,

I'm done with this ****

you should have known

when you woke up upon sheets
that were soaked with our final weeks, and you realised, that you woke alone, it wasn't just a joke,
that one thing should have made you know,

seven hundred miles later,
your bare *** is alone...

you should have known

and now I'm down the highway
seven hundred miles away
from you
checking out the sunset
wondering if you
see it
as blue as I do
are you seeing the splintering
and fracturing of the lightening
that splits between clouds
of such a perfect grey?

Do you even remember that day?

I do!

you should have known

how the ventricles in your heart
clip clop at such a slow pace
how the neurones that fire
within your brain
stitch together memories
so laconically

you should have known

that seven hundred miles
down the road
I was going to be more open
More free to be me
Less inclined to practice
this inhumanly farce

Seven hundred miles ago

You should have known

*It was never going to last
Commuter Poet Dec 2015
Thick tarry black matter
Clogs my neurones
Blocking the flow

Fragments of metal
Infiltrate my joints
And prevent me
From dancing

Desperate thoughts rise
Surfacing like weighty angels
Shouting
Impossible!
Impossible!
Impossible!

I never knew
That it could be so difficult

I never expected
To experience days like this

And yet

There has been joy

Companionship

Laughter
Closeness

Sunlight
And

Music
Of such purity

Only devils
Would try to disrupt

Days like these
Written 9th December 2015
Mimi Bordeaux Aug 21
Spiked Mulled Wine
Sweat like a corpse in a (dawny dowdy dawny) copse a forest of flies fire flight of twi-light seeblack-blue
opalesque pearlescent

nacreous pancreas lining
wining dining ending up with
the light of jesu
hindu master tweaks his little bells (out of) their shells

coapting coaxing
sticking it to the masses
passers by dreary teary bleary

feeling alone with your ***** dog ‘galbador’-real name — allyl cyclohexyl glycolate

why do I always look so socially drawny mawby scrawby lordy
baggy galpy scaredy catty claggy faggy end of this drive
eyes filled with pus?

cuss the weather
tether me knees together
going mad

already bad and sad
dad went years before and after mum did
leaving is all they know how to do well
it’s s a gift from my parents to scarper when the kids get too rowdy loudly
maudlin goblin mouldin thoughts on
one left side of my brain open cranial sacral chakra larkerseratonin my dopamine receptors
say hello to chemical imbalance of my lead head said
dead just alive

kept going by a senior psychiatrist who took an interest in my case file
larger than life itself
between two good neurones bashing clanging together

growing like a manic bipolar  transistor with a psychotic disorder
between two good neurones bashing clanging together

abruptly adroitly soulfully
she let me in
goll golly goldy go

comatose come home poem dome my tome reads like an amateur souless epiphany

head of aching shaking making noises of doom moon soon will be half shaped circle of like
please bring my elixir
its own packet
what’s that racket downstairs towards the bottom
back to me
head of aching shaking making noises of doom moon soon will be half shaped circle of like
fife mife byfe lyte lyfe pyfe myfe
brittle bendy bandy bones blown down drown

no sound when you’re under the water
immersed submersed macerated saturated ******
scouser
louse in my hair won’t go away
Richard Graydon Jul 2019
With the sun radiating down upon us,
And the waves of learning penetrating our ears,
The teacher asked the knowledge defiant,
a simple question.

And with the quarks on their face
and with the oxygen  in their lungs
and with the water on their  tongues
and with the neurones in their brain.
They turn up blank.

A small chuckle enters this closed system,
The omniscient teacher had triumphed,
And his students sat in a void,
With one hand elevated, with more energy,

The teacher turns back
and with the plan in his mind
and the idea in his plan
and the thought in his idea
and the emotion behind his thought

A large grin appearing in the room
The student had displaced the power
He pushed the teacher into a precipitate slump
And responded to the impossible question.

What was the answer?
What was the work behind it?
How did they come to that?
We will never know,  

Physics is pretty boring
I wrote this in two parts to get two different feelings into this but I don’t think it translated well.
C Nov 2016
Sometimes it’s fast, electric
Darting minnow through my brain
Neurones passing messages like school children in classes
Someone flicked a light switch; sunken ship
Like a red arrow nose dive;
Except not leaving behind
the smoke clouds
Sometimes it’s thick, I’m wading
A parachute unclips but I’m still falling
Cardboard in the rain tears eventually.
Submarine sinking deeper into thick purple
at the bottom, of my mind.
Annees Nov 2022
I started walking my normal road ,i put headphones on and 2 minutes later i take them off because i want to hear my surroundings i have this sense that they will all sound important and interesting to me. And they do. I grab bits and parts of people's greetings and exchange of words. They make sense and that satisfies me. I realize my vision perceives the sky even if it's not the only thing i see but, it's there and i know it. In fact the neurones that activate my eyeballs know it but I don't really. There is a big cloud in the horizon. I look up and i see it moving. Before with my limited comprehension that was obstructed by overstimulation i thought it was still. Like a painted ceiling. Like the picture of a cloud in a wall. I keep looking and i notice its slow movement, i observe its pace and it feels like we are moving with the same speed. We are in sync. I keep walking and i start laughing at myself for philosophising such a tini everyday thing and i carry on listening to the conversations of those passing by, like before. I hear an old lady talking to her neighbour from the opposite balcony. She says:" Him and his wife they came over and we ate ,not kiss hug or anything cause you know, it's dangerous. But still it was nice having them around. Next year we'll have to see what happens" And i keep walking and I still feel satisfied
Probir Gupta Aug 2017
Ecstasy in commingling
Neurones writing poetry
Sunshine in the evening
In cerebral you and me

Muscles enjoy the steam
Under the red microwave
Nano curves in scheme
Cheetahs from the cave

The spines make an ocean
Of the entangled nerves
A dance of intoxication
Orange flames in verve

The cheetah licks and bites
The sea lifts toward moon
A Hurricane Harvey arrives
Time in a  fleeting swoon

Cherries come together
In the veins blooms rose
Burning sparks in weather
In a tremor they enclose

Two stanzas become one
Two times get conjoined
Ending in a peace of Psalm
In ice the cheetah disjoined
Rose Brown Sep 2018
Oh...
It is so complicated around you.
Never mind why, but I just want to feel your fingertips gracing my legs.
My cold daydreams of you take me from my work,
As your image weaves through my neurones, falsifying our memories.
I can see your tanned fingers gripping a counter- a counter I’ve never seen before- a hand I choose to focus on little.
You played with me from across a room, watching me through red lights.
When you make a split instant of eye contact, I feel everything within me GLOW.
My god, you make me shut up.
I lose all ability to speak when I see your face.
I’ve been so in love with you for so long.
It’s infuriating, how I don’t even know how to talk to you.
PLEASE,
Text me, snap me, hear my silence.
Say one word to me before we go our own ways.
Mari May 2016
A familiar sense
of longing
and hopelessness.

I feel her reach
into my mind.

Discreetly twisting the neurones
making me lose all sense of control.

What I feel
is never what I see.

I feel distorted
and completely alone.

I’m my own barrier.

This invisible wall
that cannot be seen
or broken down.

My safe haven
My cell.
Ryan O'Leary Jun 2018
Don’t know if it is my attention
deficit syndrome, the neurones
gone, or just, being simply thick.

But, there is no way, I can do a
fraction of what my wife manages
to coordinate, at the same time.

She can put on eye make up,
send an sms, tune the radio,
   tidy the cards in her purse,

Indicate left while turning right,
all without even looking in the
    rear, or side view mirrors!
Eryri Nov 2020
Shorting neurones fusing
Unconnected memories

Pleasant confusion reigns
Where lucidity once laced mercurial wisdom

A sense of self shuffled
The mind playing dice

The subjugated now just a vessel
For these disordered depositories

Disorientation to time and place
Leaves autonomy forever questioned:

What insight and understanding?
The question for a future of flux.
There goes the electricity,
Racing down burning neurones,
Snaps at the synapse,
What do we have to loose?
There are so many pathways to choose from,
I have built this body,
A stranger.
Classy J Nov 2023
Left to watch as friends turns to fiends,
Overdose and make a scene.
Shooting up their tendons, yearning for a meaning.
Or they get shot up by the po-po cause they don’t resemble Mr. Clean.
Same **** different story from coast to coast if people actually bothered listening.
Left sitting watching finding dory instead of finding myself.
Wish I could give a **** about my mental health.
But society treats it like a joke.
So, I drown my sorrows and have a ****.
I’m down bad, Guzzling cans of alcohol out the canon like I’m bulbasaur.
Recovery is a buzzkill, watch me flounder in withdrawal like I’m magic carp.
Can’t hear them roars through the muzzle,
Silenced to the core.
Society hits harder than the floor, never thought I’d fall deeper into the dark.
Yet I keep wanting more and more!
Become your friendly neighbour hood addict man.
Till I get arrested for exposing my Peter in the park.
***** effective for my foes, like taking a hit straight through the nose.
The Taste of smack reaching the degenerate brain, knocking neurones over like dominoes.
Dictating erratic philosophy so don’t get too close.
Living In a state of apathy, thinking the answers in the readers palms.
But ya can’t escape the lie in belief, cause that said **** is strong.
Can one’s rights nullify another’s wrongs.
A victim can justify as easily as I can write rhymes in these songs.
Like a straw man looks for crumbs.
Instead of examining outside they lawns.
The bias of their ignorance remains prolonged.
Like a joke about a bear with them great big.. pause.
I am so tired
My brain is unwired
The neurones are not firing
I need rewiring
I need plugging in
Just like an AI
But I wonder why?
The snow comes down in delightful pretty snow flakes
A visual pleasure it makes
And visually digesting the view
With beautiful music playing
To cerebrally amaze the neurones in the brain
Wielding the warmth of the open log fire
Would be many a persons desire
Taking in the exuberant beauty that is seen, heard and felt
It Can make your heart melt
And gets the senses to light up a fire
And enjoy it all, in a heartfelt desire.
I was inspired by a TV programme about an amazing hotel in the Alps near Germany!
Its the middle of the night!
But that's alright
I'm not tired
My brain is wired
The neurones fired
I want to write
in the middle of the night!

— The End —