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 what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    AFIRIQUE’s Poems (7)

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