Friday, May 1, 2009

not mad!

darling, doctor...
wearing apron white,
darling with might...

she promises white light,
to help synapse between each dendrite...


she promises to cool the hot brain,
by showering her sympathies like rain...


brain says-

"darling, come come,
see my corpus callosum,
see how the walnuts are connected,
within them the folds-convoluted,
they are not broken,
it is not the hollow cauliflower in your fridge frozen,
between the is the thalamus-'the relay station'...
don't you know?

how will you know?
you never played a sport,always sitting at home...
now face the consequence,
your basal ganglia on the floor,
never produced a good amount of any harmone...
turn the music on,
play war game with your GI-Joe,
vent it out and help me calm down....

there is no connection established,
between your medulla oblongata and the spinal cord...
hence the red heart in the rib cage is dead,
its blue and so cool like your intent...
you blood is not red,white and discolored,
fighters- anti-bodies- contaminated...

your bile is not even ugly green colored,
the acid secreted burns...
no harmone, to help it not run,
through the closed mouths, it has to come...


i do not want your excess white,
i have my own colors, i can combine,
white has only 7,and i have more fun,
with white, with black,
and each color in between...

the time has come,it is right,
get rid of your pain,
cognition you should gain...
i was thinking of singularity,and the event horizon...

what i think,is black,
i dream in the infinite,
please don't foolishly judge to reign,
it's the mystery game, come hear the pleasurful pain..."

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