Pandemic Inside/Pandemic Outside

Posted on by meltingneurons

Cantankerous, walloping headache from hell,
comes driven on words sweeping born from the fell.
If now is the darkness that blocks out the curs,
then drive, devil, drive to blot our their slurs.
With skull thrashing and blood pumping so loud,
it’s hard to think with the internal noise like a crowd-
mocking, bantering, shuttling words,
as feet shuffle and wisdom flies off with the birds.
Never knowing from whence it was born,
scratching echoes from those blissful days we all yearn.
Pandering blasphemous gasps for sweet air come at last,
now that the sound stops and you care for what has come,
gone, and now passed.

Brain Worms

Posted on by meltingneurons
All credit to Captain Three Leg for the image.
Image credit to Captain Three Leg

Wiggling brain worms of love
cross each other on withering paths,
laying out siege plans and more,
demanding the mind bow and be labeled a whore.
Tussling tatters of titrated remains,
their infection spreads softly
but fierce is the pain.
When all is lost to the annals of memory
(that malleable stuff made of thoughts stuck in entropy),
we’ll know not the beginning,
seek to suss out the end.
But by that point the parasites will be dug in,
they’ve rewired the hardware,
unfucked the program and rewritten the codes.
Their beautifully at odds with all we call real,
if God were a worm I might be filled with more zeal.
A zest for the unknown where dreams can take flight,
even a place to call home in the bitterest of nights.
But, here I sit.
Obliterated identity left off as a stain
to be cleaned by the new host
who’d prefer I be insane.