"neurotransmitter" poems
There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.
If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.
Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.
If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
For William and Meredith
For treatment of panic and anxiety disorders,
short-acting anxiolytics are generally recommended
to provide temporary bursts of clarity
but should be reassessed periodically for
usefulness and concerns regarding tolerance,
dependence,
and abuse.
Xanax releases dopamine into the brain
to function as a neurotransmitter to send signals
between nerve cells
including reward motivated behavior
and pathways known to reinforce addictive neuronal activity
Perhaps to build her,
you had to break yourself
amongst the glass of that summer day.
Leave her waiting for your hair to peek
around a weathered edge
toward a forgotten living room corner
You are still her Patron Saint.
A long shadow cast across a small ghost.
She still screams at the sky to stop raining
beats her fists down the path
to the house of death
unceasing, and changeless.
Prodding a dull,
familiar
wound.
One that leaves its mark,
with pain felt more
from memory
than from anything else.
Withdrawal and rebound symptoms commonly occur and
necessitate a gradual reduction
to minimize the effects of discontinuation.
Not all withdrawal effects are evidence
of true dependence or withdrawal.
Recurrence may suggest no more
than the drug having the expected effect
and that,
in the absence of the drug,
the symptom has returned to pretreatment levels.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:23 AM UTC
Deep inside the heart collides
With the majesty that is the sun.
And polyps grow on feet below -
Where the grandeur is forced to shun.
Grey gritty gravel gets jammed
Between my toes,
And flies through a rolled up twenty
To stay wedged far in my nose.
If sinus’s are clogged like pours,
Scratched by a Cheetos finger,
The rocks get stuck and Id mocks
While the crush starts to linger;
Numbs the cavity where inside lives
A thousand hungry hippies
Sitting still until they see
A cloud up on a water lily.
So set out to feed their queen bee
Whom lives inside the skull
(And) demands, commands, yearns and pleads
To feel that numbing null.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
The first time I shot dope
My mind bended
Transcended
This ******** existence
I rose out of my skin
And took a good look in side of myself
I elevated
I saw everything at once
Evaporated
And allowed myself to become nothingness
The first time snorted speed
I watched my entire life flash before my eyes
And got bored
I felt the vibrations and manipulations of every neurotransmitter in my brain
Went literally insane
Chasing rain drops
Off of roof tops
Because I believed I could fly
Or at least that somebody would catch me
The first time I smoked ****
I got so lost in my own metaphysical thought
That they had to send someone in after me
My sticky fingers cradling a bowl like an infant
As my cotton lined tongue spewed insightful nonsense about homelessness
And they laughed at me
Didn't they know I was changing the world?
The first time I drank
The warmth of whiskey cover my body like a blanket
I felt safe in his arms
And for the first time I could be someone other than myself
Many keys can open the gateway to hell
For years
These friends of mine beat my body black and blue
And I would crawl to them
****** and bruised
Begging for more
And to this day
I still miss them
I hear them calling to me
Pulling me back into their game
And a part of me
Still wants to play
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
i watch the clock tick to 2 milliseconds past 1900 hours and i remember how, at 2 milliseconds past 1400 hours, just 5 hours earlier, i was cradling you in bed
it was warm and we were interlocked and you looked heavenly
the glow of the sunshine a halo around a face full of sleep and too beautiful even for poetry.
i try to verbalise you, try to write you down to make your existence more fathomable –
i cannot.
there are no words for a heart that beats honey through soft-skinned veins, that swirls around your mouth like saliva and you taste so **** sweet.
i told my doctor i have a sweet tooth, what i meant was i am addicted to you; what i meant was i can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night to fix the cravings i have when you aren’t there.
what i meant was, sometimes i sleep walk, find myself at
platform number 5 of the same station i left you at hours before hoping that some sweet fragrance of you still lingers.
i watched the clock tick to 2 milliseconds past 1900 hours and i watched the train move away in slow motion.
i watched your face until i couldn’t see it anymore and i have never felt longing like it. suddenly i felt like a lost kid at the supermarket trying to find their parent and i wanted to scream for you to come back because although this train moved in slow motion i swear 2 milliseconds passed and you were gone.
i tried not to blink because i didn’t want to miss a single moment.
i sent you “i love you” through a screen that is too familiar to me now and felt the itch of my craving against my spine –
i will wait for you.
i replay the last kiss in my head; it was probably our seventieth goodbye kiss because each one didn’t encompass all the love we needed to express before the train departed and i taste honey.
i cannot make your existence more fathomable because that would mean to understand you and in all your complexity, i never want to stop learning –
so please,
allow me to explore your mind in every neurotransmitter, in every dopamine dosage, in every fight or flight reaction; allow me to explore what it is to be you and let me write you into every poem i ever produce, let me hallucinate you into every city street, cast your reflection in every shop window, replace every tin of beans with jars of honey and settle like dust on my lips –
i will wait for you.
every day, i wait for you.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
poetry comes and goes
opens and flows
spills into streams of prose
amidst the musical rows of my thoughts.
forms and rhythms
which melt and morph and sing into being
the abstractions of synaptic connections,
write into existence
the chemical signals of neurotransmitter gossip,
and transfer to the Symbolic
the electrical impulses of the Real
scratch and peel the caulk
from the edges of The Faucet,
turn and wind the wheeled handles open,
open, open.
Past lefty loosey and into
the outpouring of pent up pressure;
raw, and juicy.
Poetry is *** death and magic.
The art of training the mind's faucets
elastic.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
Two nerves cells
and across the finite gap
an impulse passes
and diffusion of a
neurotransmitter
begins
passing down to my stupid mind
and the words i think
seam to dance
and do a little jig
and so my thoughts
begin.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
out in the mountains,
when my feet are pressed and purpled
from pushing the world to roll her callused breast,
then each breath, deservingly,
funnels the friction into fire.
but here our milk flesh thumbs
flick the ridges of the flint
and through trees we **** a Bic
just to exhale flame again.
oh-two deprived at altitude
or getting high with all the dudes
you’d count them as two trails that lead to the same place
but that’s just what the map says.
neurotransmitter math has
sold, by weight, the dopamine
wrapped like gods great gift
in threads of nervous lace
and you forget that different paths
never summit the same
if steep, or shallow, the peak can be
epiphany pleasure or just good ****
in green pill bottles, they trap the trees
and plastic cages hang on me
when the weight of our minds
bends our necks towards the asbestos sky
where porous plains of ceiling tile
have us counting holes in the light
so you see my disappointment,
when you were too ****** or drunk or cold
and said it would be better
if we just went inside
as we circled up the stairwell
you stepped easily on plaster pieces
of white ceiling that had fallen to concrete
perhaps it is from fear
that some can find a comfort
having heavens built so brittle
that they crumble within reach
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:38 AM UTC
My only regret
Is that my muse can't be mainlined
Or that you projectile ***** words
When you don't sleep 3 days
Or maybe that I don't sweep scraps
From the orange candy's factory floor
Straight into my mouth
If I could I'd never sleep again
I'd call it fixer
And keep it at an hour's call
To trump my teacher's bluff
Stacking aces in the hole
It's the doctor's orders
The doctor said
"An Adderall a day keeps distraction away"
Orange candy keeps the apathy at bay
The doctor called the brain stupid
For not making Adderall a neurotransmitter
And I'll talk about him when they call me a child prodigy for all the work I've done
And the pharm reps make me a posterboy
I'll tell the whole world
how they called me failure to thrive after two years treatment
I'll tell them "look at me now!"
Ruminating on that last perfect fire
Snapped between synapses
Anxiously plunging forward
Look at me
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
She tells me happiness is a choice.
That one day I can just magically wake up and everything will go away.
That if I tell myself I am happy enough times it will come true.
A "self-fulfilling prophecy"
She tells me that I am a victim of circumstance
And that the key to being happy is letting go.
The synapses in my brain scream otherwise, pleading for serotonin.
You see, depression is a disease
Thoughts struggle to travel from neurotransmitter to neurotransmitter.
Synapses feel as vacant and as large as the grand canyon you see
It's so easy to get lost in there.
I wish it was as simple as choosing to be happy
I'd choose to be happy.
I ask her,
When did I choose to feel this sad?
Did I just wake up one morning and decide, "Oh, i'll choose to feel like wanting to die today"
They tell me I've been here before.
They tell me that this is an illusion.
I have been here before. I just cannot remember.
I cannot remember being this sad.
But I choose to sit in class struggling to recollect even the simplest things.
I choose to hate going out.
I choose to stay up all night
It's just a choice.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
Words should soar at break of day.
Impatient with the serotonin low, I
Break out coffee toast and sun.
How dare a... take a run
At this word...Neurotransmitter...
Stop me having fun?
Let there be brilliant light
For all. Right here right now. Always there
Above a cloud or two they say.
In fact I'll try another high jump word
To raise sky higher still, the day -
...5-hydroxytryptamine...
Hooray!
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
salty banana brain game
seratonin sunshine soup
neurotransmitter broth
shimmer shimmer
a neuron takin a ****
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
can you take me to the last domain
\\\
the last one
the one before
everything
\\\
come tumbling down with me
flying skyward frown
upside inside out
\\\
this amoebic mass of
intergalactic introspection and
analyses of outward perception
\\\
this ion exchange
line dancing across an axon
don't shoot the neurotransmitter
\\\
this realm is made entirely of thanks
when there is nothing to say
\\\
it is my childhood that keeps me alive
\\\
I'd like to immortalize my friends
\\\
remember when we played in the sandbox?
\\\
remember when my father stabbed you with a screwdriver.
\\\
there was a time when all that mattered was music
there was a time when all that mattered was flesh
there was a time when all that mattered was eternal
there was a time when all that mattered was death
\\\
scaled fish curling into reverse spiral
it floats there in haunting grimace
\\\
the upholstered chairs by the fireplace
feet chewed by the jaws of a puppy
\\\
the china cabinet in the corner
I could see the reflection of your
disgusting indulgences in it
screwdriver pink skin
\\\
the musty mass of wires where your desk once was
where your life unfolded 'til the wee hours of the morning
sick and twisted absent minded distant soul
\\\
that ball of electricity floating down from the sky
bobs as a ball in the surf toward the kitchen door
\\\
terrifying electric forgiveness coming to engulf my brittle heart
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
destroyer of the void
I am glass shattered sun
scattered high beams
leaping from one black hole to another
I am finding nothing but the light within my soul bent into empty caves empty caves abyss forever
keep spitting
you're mine forever
chain link and snap
seratonin is an inhibitory neurotransmitter
happiness means
less neural activity
stop thinking, brain
stop it, please
but I will know joy from suffering
so I will know bliss from despair
**** me **** me I want to feel alive
train wreck train wreck
someone
pull me out of the
hole of *** the
hole of gender the
hole of identity
it is raining
my words drip along with the raindrops as the sides of this meatbucket crumple inward
plastics melting and
canvas fibres disconnected
i am frayed eye lash
eye lash pull scream and
eyes twisted in shapes unseen
body convulse and and convulse in
I'm confused why am I here
take me away from
this body
this now
losing my eyes would help everyone else
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
A red thread of shame is tightly woven into our silenced souls,
An inherited madness dripped its way down to whoever works the controls,
This nebulous state, this numb state, it's our common default setting,
Here we all are, blind to the brain trick, content in our worldwide forgetting.
Nothing like a perpetually distracted brain to box away the brilliance,
Put that box back in the cupboard, don't you dare invite **** dissonance,
And remember when the party guests arrive, silence is insulting,
Privacy is suspicious, mystery is annoying and thoughts kept to yourself are revolting.
Show us romance, show us pretty, let us always see the screen,
Give us an abundance of fake new reality, let us turn on the simulation rain,
We would like to see her and we would like to see him while pretending we're the ones having fun,
Dopamine is leading the way for us all, our ruling neurotransmitter, our kindly king hormone.
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 9:27 AM UTC
I fall a little too hard, in love
I want a bit too desperately, to win
I procrastinate too long, on games
I stay up too often, typin'
I wake up too late, savouring dreams
Is it my brain, making too much dopamine?
Or whatever neurotransmitter
Making me so bitter
That I reaaally need a dose of self control
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 2:31 AM UTC
You are round, white,
and easy to break –
just like me.
Over-the-counter candy to cure
my sour serotonin syndrome.
You help my body become
a sweet, symmetrical poem.
You spell the words
Medication Management,
Adjustment,
and Patience
on the tip of every
neurotransmitter I own.
Oh Lexapro,
sweet placebo,
thank you for making me
dizzy with dopamine.
Thank you for changing my clock.
Now, I’m geared toward making it
To my next pill,
to my next refill,
to my next daffodil,
and my next windmill.
You are my daylight,
my daylight saving time.
May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 12:02 AM UTC