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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1727361
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1727361
Bridging both sides of me.
Safe in the gray of my egg noodle,
in back of nosy eyes,
within the kit of thought's kaboodle
there live these thoughtful guys.

They commandeer my brainwave pattern,
they frame the night with pearl,
they take me to the rings of Saturn
where comets swish and swirl.

These thoughts play the Corpus Callosum*,
and there they strum guitars;
more notions glitter sweet and wholesome,
blue light from distant stars.

They sprite to one side then the other,
grand mixture in the brain;
a piece of toast right next to sugar--
whole wheat and candy cane.

They even whisper with things to see
so even as I nap;
yet when awake they can startle me
just like a thunderclap.

Impulses flow to connect each part--
a sonnet next to steel;
the logic lives to regard the heart:
and that is how I feel.



*Corpus Callosum: a large bundle of nerves connecting both sides of the brain.

(Rhythm: 9-6-9-6)


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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1727361