BRAIN

7 Comments

Tags:
  • Philosophy

    Poem Commentary

    The brain speaks to body from its dungeons

    BRAIN

     

    From the cloistered, ominous, dungeons I reign

    Over your feckless form with kindred candor;

    Your senses feast on my convoluted grains,

    Yet, I am stuck in barricaded armor,


    Festering in a deluge of heavenly broth.

    In tangled membranes - tendered countenance,

    I elope with time deep in a genial brawl,

    To strengthen my caverns with brilliance.


    Time for you is but a vaunted clamor;

    Though thoughts live in trenches of my bosom,

    You entomb in my memory harbor,

    In my blazing, doomed, palace I blossom; 


    I am your interred, humbled, muted brain,

    Far in the bleak ditches of distant plains.

     

     

    Poem Comments

    (7)

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    shakeme4life commented on BRAIN

    09-26-2010

    Outstanding poem , it's real , it's full of thought provoking words , and it took my mind to a place of safety...

    WordSlinger commented on BRAIN

    06-10-2010

    I love this, lol, I've read this before, so good, I love this part: Festering in a deluge of heavenly broth, lol awesome

    GUSTY commented on BRAIN

    04-09-2010

    I LIKE THIS POEM FOR ITS COMPLICATED SIMPLICITY! IT ADDS DENSITY TO THAT "INDISPENSABLE ENGINE"THAT MAN FEELS TOO BUSY TO STOP SOMEWHERE TO WEIGH.

    fred1932 commented on BRAIN

    01-07-2010

    Hey man, I like your style, you have very good texture and flow.

    AFIRIQUE

    01/07/2010

    Thanks for enjoying Brain; you hit it right on the nail. AF

    WordSlinger commented on BRAIN

    01-01-2010

    This poem is one of most unique poems I have ever read, I will save to favorites, everyline is tough, meaning Bad ass, ty much WS

    AFIRIQUE

    01/01/2010

    Brain sure is a riddled with imageries; it's not an easy poem. It's unique diction is meant to provoke thought. You can attribute many interpretations to "BRAIN;" in this poem BRAIN does NOT mince words. Thanks for enjoying it, and making it a favorite. AF.

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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