This Brain

brain

This is where I live,

A place, situated

Five and three quarters feet

Above the street, or floor

Give an inch or more,

So elevated.

Thus placed behind my eyes,

Between my ears,

I exist to surmise

With what signals give

From nerve transmissions supervised

By genetics, peripatetics

Of this beast devised

By evolution’s solutions.

To comprehend what appears.

 

This brain, it’s plain,

Sits in divorce of light, of sound,

Of all that’s around, behind, above,

Touched only by the prompts of sensors

Specific to particulars of

Light, of sound, of touch and more

To be sorted, parsed, creating consequensors

Linking thinking, sinking

Into the morass of what to hate, what to adore

How to rate import, how to score,

Make use or abuse

Of the time to be alive

Or merely deny one must die.

 

This brain is not me.

In its constant fury to maintain,

Sustain vitality to just be,

Pump blood, air, gain

Nutrition, energy, entertain

Strategies, intricacies

To confront complexities

Of time and thunderstorms and snow,

Simply discovering how and where to go.

It assembled me as an implement,

An instrument to compass geographies

It has assembled from the tweaks and nudges

Of its fingertips and eyes.

I try to nullify surprise,

Plot alternates to disaster,

Secure my master.

 

I live and dance and delight

Amongst the fantasies

Of universe, of world, of day and night.

Of these glorious inventions

Out of fragments of sound and sight.

Realities, no doubt, are pluralities,

Trunking, branching, twigging

Immensely integrating possibilities

Of explorations and fertilities.

 

The mental halls of alls,

The palaces of time and space

Configured to contain within their walls

Things that are, that have been,

Sunshines of triumphs, midnights of disgrace.

People elsewhere smile at me,

The dead quite visibly still actively embrace.

 

Whatever might be in ubiquity,

This inner cosmos is my home.

A construct, personal, of desire, hope.

Expectation and despair

Subject to a need for constant repair

Where intellect can flounder and only grope.

 

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “This Brain

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s