Doctor's Visit
If today hadn't cooked the brain,
He'd risen like neurones,
In the way they do.
He'd awakened, jarring the door
So that nobody could enter
And stampede the nodes inside.
Spiders would squirm in beneath
The bedroom door, they explained
To the gentleman always with grey
That certainty of brain dementia
Was valid as the hair on the chest.
White coats entered to chant a message.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Today... 'The Door
Where do we mortals find that narrow heavenly Door?
Through which millions of sinners have entered before?
It is found at the cross where Jesus was crucified
There for You paid for our sins, laid down Your life and died
With Your arms outstretched so wide and saying, 'Come to me'
For we find forgiveness by Your death at Calvary
And we see the Door before us swinging open wide
Allowing us to pass through the veil to heavens side
At the cross the veil in the temple was rent in two
We can still hear You calling sinners to come to You
For the door into heaven has been flung open wide
'Come to me you weary, ' we hear as we go inside
Calvary's cross is the Door through which man can go through
And there is no other way only this door will do
For You are the Way by which we must enter heaven
It is at the cross we must come to be forgiven
Then as we look behind us on the lintel we see
'Chosen before the foundation of the world in Me'
Though millions have come yet there is still room for more
God by His Grace has allowed us to enter the Door
So come to that Door for it is opened wide for you
And taste the glories of heaven as you enter through
The cry goes out 'whosoever will may enter in'
It is at the Cross where your journey has to begin
All who enter the door shall be safely kept inside
There forever with the Lord Jesus they all shall abide
Each one was chosen by God before the world began
Included by His grace as part of salvations plan
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Stranded (Lyrics)
Your waves come crashing down
Like a semi-auto trailer
I dive so deep in the sea
To avoid killer whales
A perfect moment here and gone
It has sailed
I'll use a hammerhead to drive
Rusty nail inside
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
Imagine if our world was blue and weightless
I never meant to do wrong to you
You're my starfish
You moan a tone so low beyond me
A telepathic sub-sonic frequency
I need a little air for emergency
You have to understand this urgency
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
A sea anemone, you're my enemy
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Oh where is heavens door?
Where do we mortals find that narrow heavenly Door?
Through which millions of people have entered before?
It is found at the cross of Jesus The Crucified
where He paid for our sins and laid down His life and died.
With His arms outstretched so wide and saying, 'Come to me'
there we find forgiveness by His death at Calvary.
Then we see the Door before us swing open so wide
allowing us to pass through the veil to heavens side.
Calvary's cross is the Door through which we can go through.
There is no other entrance only this door will do.
For He is the Way by which we must enter heaven
It is at the cross we must come to be forgiven.
Then as we look behind us on the lintel we see
'Chosen before the foundation of the world in Me.'
Though millions have come yet there is still room for more
God by His Grace has allowed us to go through the Door.
So come to that Door for it is opened wide for you
and taste the glories of heaven as you enter through.
The cry goes out 'whosoever will may enter in'
it is at the Cross where your journey has to begin.
All who enter the door shall be safely kept inside
and there forever with the Lord Jesus they shall abide.
Each one was chosen by God before the world began
Included by His grace as part of salvations plan.
Written after reading John 10: 7-10
Bad Brain
I used to be an A student
I never used to complain
I used to be a truant
But I'm still the same
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
I used to go to parties
I used to drink champagne
Now I'm beginning to feel the strain
Bad bad brain
I used to be in show biz
I used to have fortune and fame
I used to have pleasure and pain
I used to have a name
Bad bad brain
Now I'm on the Bowery
I can't remember my name
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain...bad bad brain...
song performed by by Ramones from Road To Ruin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Memory Of Love
I came upon a house so bare.
I knew there could be no one there.
I wished to enter so I knocked.
No one answered. The door was locked.
I saw a window through which I peered
and saw it looked just as I feared,
lonely, deserted, cold and musty
cobwebs hanging, everything dusty.
The need to go inside
was an urgency I could not hide.
Should I break the door or shatter the pane?
Encouragement came when I felt the rain.
I entered slowly and looked around
amazed and astounded at what I found.
Every room was empty but for one,
a bedroom with chair facing towards sun.
Beside the chair was a frame
holding the picture of a girl with no name.
Curiosity got the best of me
so I turned it over and I did see
her name scribbled hastily.
'Janette, my love I give to you
this picture I love to sit and view.'
and then I placed it back.
The house was no longer cold to me
for it housed a loving memory.
I left it right beside the chair
as if the lover still was there.
Upon leaving the bedroom I closed the door
so it would stay as it was before.
My intrusion on this private place
as I exited left a smile on my face.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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We Grow And We Die
May we die as we have delivered,
Natures of the brain are compact;
Nested in the rights of Our Word
Is the brilliant brain and the well-spoken heart.
May we die like the spring and not winter;
Offered to the mind is the brain,
For they both grow with each other,
Finding strength to resolve a certainty
That we have delivered.
The death of someone is a brain,
The mind has much to consider.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Insomnia
Reading magazines and counting sheep to pass the time away
Hoping that tomorrows gonna bring a smile home again
Images of palm trees swaying in the wind on south beach
Takes me back to better days, summer days the everglades in june
My brain, my poor brain
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia
Flying high in golden skies, Im flicking channels in my mind
Finding my utopia a different chapter in a book
Thinking back to younger days as I escape in coopers break
It takes me back to 84 the futures knocking at my door
My brain, my poor brain
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia
Turning off a switch inside me, leaving all the stress behind me
Flying over streams and houses, passing over the wye valley
It takes me back to 84 the futures knocking at my door
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia.
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Allegory Of The Cycle Of Doors
and so there is this door that appears before you
and you open it
and then when you enter the room
another door appears
this is the cycle of doors that keep on appearing and you
keep on opening
but the room still appears from a distance
always distant
from your eager feet to enter
you say to enter the room i must please the door
but the room moves away just the same
and the door tells you
to keep the room
you have to burn it and when the room is burned
the door finally disappears
and then both the door and the room shall tell you
now be happy
for you now have a house of your own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A New Haircut
all i need today is a new haircut
my thick hair is covering my head
and i do not really like it
like a carabao dung
it is giving me a certain feeling of a hat
a buri hat with lots of protruding fibers
untrimmed
what do i need a hat for?
when there is no rain
when there is no sun
when there is no
heavy debris falling on me
i just wanna be free
i want my brain open
washed by the rain
bleached by the sun
true to its nature
& form
thinking
w/o
any covering
without the bias
without the prejudice
of
scalp
of
hair
plain brain
exposed to all the elements
it will tolerate a certain form
of fungal infection
a certain
brain longing to be
brain dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Prayer For Me
soon i will be one of the hollow people
and soon i will have nothing but air inside me
why can't i make a choice between substance
and emptiness?
i can. There is this light that leads me to
his Grace. There is this door that always opens.
There is this garden where all
the flowers always bloom
and never wilt.
I follow the light. I open the door.
I enter the garden.
As easy as that. I only need to call His Name.
And He is always there.
I do not have to suffer and
be confused. He is happiness. He is certainty.
I do not have the right to inflict
this unnecessary injury into my soul.
Amen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mind Power
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
So when you walk through the door
Is this the bottom word
The fortress of violence will fall
When the tide will turn
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Is there a place you belong
When there is no love
The light that shines is so strong
When you come out of the dark
Yeah
Were living in a violent world
It makes our heart just freeze
Lets melt the ice with heart and soul
To heal a world that bleeds
(to heal a world that bleeds)
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
So when you walk through the door
Is this the bottom word
The fortress of violence will fall
When the tide will turn
So when you walk through the door
You can make it too
The fortress of violence will fall
If you want it to
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Dont use your fist, use your brain
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power, every hour, any minute, every day
Mind power
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cocaine Blues
Everytime my baby and me go up town
police come and they knock me down
Cocaine all around my brain
Hey baby, better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Yonder comes by baby, she's dressed in red
She's got a shot-gun, says she's gonna kill me dead.
Cocaine all around my brain
Hey baby, better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Early one morning, half past four
cocaine came knockin' on my door.
Cocaine all around my brain
Hey baby, you better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Cocaine's for horses and it's not for men
Doctor said it kill you, but he don't say when.
Cocaine all around my brain.
Hey baby, you better come here quick.
This old cocaine is making me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rizal
i agree
education is the key
when the door if
finally opened
in fact a long time ago
and
we already had
333 years in that
Spanish convent and
43 years of
that Hollywood experience
another door has been
closed
and still
the key has to open it
one door leads to
another
same key
the young keep on getting
that key
another door is close
more keys
each key has become
more expensive
and some have thrown
that key away
meanwhile the Authority
is asking
that doors outside the country
be opened
export labor
brain drain
that is another key
problem
on the other
hand
it is not the money
it is the open mind
resilient to
poverty
taking time still to laugh
at those hard times
i agree
despite the irrelevance
it is still
the rightful key
the door is open
and we are inside it
no one
no one can take this house
again
from us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Nag Complex (Fun Poem 105)
Yesterday I wrote about the Mumble Syndrome.
When the brain does the hundred-yard dash
and leaves the tongue trailing right at the rear.
Today I am writing about the Nag Complex
and no this has nothing to do with the wife.
This is when the brain forgets
to register something you have done
and nags you with doubt
until you recheck it out.
You leave to go to work,
you shut the front door
and get into your car and start driving.
When suddenly the nag complex begins to kick in.
Did you turn off everything?
You cannot remember.
Did you shut the front door?
You cannot remember.
The more you think about these things
the more frustrated you get.
You’re almost at work now and what do you do?
You turn around, go back,
and check everything again
only to find you did them all the first time.
Have you ever noticed the nag complex
always begins when you’re near your destination
and always there is no one you can phone
just to check it out for you.
It just happens and happens.
The brain does not want to remember
and leaves you to fret.
While the nag complex hedges its bet
knowing you will go home and check it all again.
16 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door.
quote by Harvey Milk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing Left
so i have to enter
this door of feelings
and lock
this door behind me
so i have to enter
this door of silence
and lock
this door behind me
surely
when i go i take nothing
so you
write your name
and keep
it that way
nuten lep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brain Dead
Turn me off
Pull the plug
Leave me with some dignity
I am not
What I was
And I dont need the sympathy
Alive inside me
No one can hear me
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Sentenced
Forgot
Paralysed
In my shell
Enduring every
Endless day
Immobilized
On my back
Aware of everything
They say
Extricate me
Eliminate me
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Drip fed
Forgot
I cant blink my eye or cry
Or even speak
They crowd around my bed
Condescending words are said
Thinking I dont hear or know
What is going on - hello!
Cant you suckers hear my cries
From inside Im still alive
Its my decision to abort
Turn off the goddamn life support
Let me pass
From this world
So I fade away in peace
Comprehending
Unrelenting
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Sentenced
Forgot
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Drip fed
Forgot
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory...
winged white bird
hovering
nesting in my hair
staying
inside my brain
laying
eggs inside my
heart
heard the sounds
of hatching...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There was an Old Man who supposed,
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large rats,
Ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile old gentleman dozed.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 09: Interlude
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us,
The hours go silently over our lifted faces,
We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea.
Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together.
We sleep, we wake, we laugh, we pursue, we flee.
We sit at tables and sip our morning coffee,
We read the papers for tales of lust or crime.
The door swings shut behind the latest comer.
We set our watches, regard the time.
What have we done? I close my eyes, remember
The great machine whose sinister brain before me
Smote and smote with a rhythmic beat.
My hands have torn down walls, the stone and plaster.
I dropped great beams to the dusty street.
My eyes are worn with measuring cloths of purple,
And golden cloths, and wavering cloths, and pale.
I dream of a crowd of faces, white with menace.
Hands reach up to tear me. My brain will fail.
Here, where the walls go down beneath our picks,
These walls whose windows gap against the sky,
Atom by atom of flesh and brain and marble
Will build a glittering tower before we die . . .
The young boy whistles, hurrying down the street,
The young girl hums beneath her breath.
One goes out to beauty, and does not know it.
And one goes out to death.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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