Frontal Is The Lobe

-Frontal Is The Lobe-
by Keaton Foster



What to do
And why
How come
And when
Decisions
My fiend
Of a friend
Make them
Shake them
Question
Said decisions
And the
Ramifications
Ponder what if
As you do
What comes next
Life
A cluster fuck
Lost in the woods
Naked
And accused
With nothing more
Than a spoon
Kill or be killed
Seems reasonable
Identifiable
All paths crossed
Lead someplace
You must decide
Where
And all
That “where”
Could and will mean
God hides
Closed are his eyes
He sees nothing
And knows even less
Sure you could find him
But before you look
Ask yourself this
How come
Frontal is the lobe
Ideas go there
To live and die
Thoughts bounce
Pinging around
Until they beat out
All the rest
And when they do
That become more
Then a thought
They become an idea
Born to reality
And like all things
Born into creation
They must live
And they will die
There is no saving
Anything precious
Anything different
You must act
You must be cunning
What to do
And why
How come
And when
Decisions
My fiend
Of a friend
Is as true
And as real
As anything gets
Frontal is the lobe
At the anterior
Of that thick skull
Just below
Bone and flesh
The medulla oblongata
Ain’t got shit
To damn busy
Making things happen
Serving its own
Self interest
Alive
Life
Living
All of it
Loosely defined
Automatic
Are the precursors
That will get us
From one second
To the very last
What is done
Without thinking
Should be deemed
Abhorrently pointless
I am speaking of ideas
Thoughts to ponder
Decision to make
And ultimately
To live with
I wanna understand
All that I can
So all I do is ask
You should do the same
Turn off those
Programmed responses
Don’t do it
Just because you should
Do it because if you don’t
You’ll never know
Or understand why
You should…





Frontal Is The Lobe
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2015.