Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “brain”

12 Nov 2015

Ear Worm

My brain is like a two year old
who’s learned a brand new trick
and the song that it’s repeating
is going to make me sick.

It’s not that it’s a bad song
or one that’s not deserving
of airplay, but three days straight
is getting quite unnerving.

Every time I stop to think
my brain’s new song is playing,
my health’s begun to suffer
and my sanity is fraying.

It seems the only chance of peace
is taking drastic action
and teaching brain another song
as some form of distraction.

And though I know my one track brain
will just switch songs, at best.
At this point I believe a change
is as good as a rest.
#121

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning #2, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
26 Sep 2012
2 Comments

Brain Musings

My cerebellum
has a rebel inside it
(between ‘ce’ and ‘lum’.)

‘Limbic’ scrambled says
‘I climb’. And some days I do.
and still get nowhere.

‘Medulla’ contains
‘a dull me’. I hope that’s just
a coincidence.

Brain rhymes with train.
Calm, pensive train of thought or
stuffed commuter train?

Brainstorm – I barnstorm,
buzzing by, muzzing my brain
over and again.

 

#277

Posted in Writings and tagged , , , , ,
25 Jul 2012
3 Comments

Brain Crumbs

When my mind goes wandering
and my thoughts begin to roam
I leave a trail of brain crumbs
to find my way back home.

But sometimes they get picked up
and carefully tucked away
by those who have no crumbs
of their own with which to play.

So if you see some brain crumbs
on some existential plane
let them lie, or I might not
find my way home again.

 

#213

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , ,
15 Jun 2012
2 Comments

Aura Exhaust Vent

I think I need an exhaust vent on my aura,
 just to bleed off the built up pressure
between my skin and my ethereal veil.

An overflow valve on my brain would be handy too,
much of the contents float off anyway so I may as well
channel it off on a regular basis and avoid messy spills.

And a governor on my heart to
make the beat a little less erratic.
A neat little syncopation might be nice.

I may need a dehumidifier on my tear ducts,
a regulator on my sleep patterns, and
an auto correct on my eating habits but mostly

I think I need an exhaust vent on my aura.

 

#174

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , ,
21 Feb 2012
1 Comment

My Brain – Part II

‘You here again? I just gave you a poem yesterday.’
“Yes, but I did make that promise about one every day.”
‘You could have discussed this with me first, and this year is a leap year too’
“Sorry. Maybe just a haiku or two?”
‘Haiku are tricky. How about a limerick?’
“As long as there’s no reference to Nantucket, I guess that would be alright.”

‘There once was a poet from BC,
Who was constantly bothering me.
For sonnets and ditties
and verses so witty
to blog with. Now go drink your tea.’

“Um… okay. Sorry for being so demanding, Brain.”
‘Ah, that’s okay, kid. I’ll try to work out something better for tomorrow.’

 

#59

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged ,
19 Feb 2012
5 Comments

My Brain – Part I

It’s a strange world
run by squirrels,
that place inside my brain,
with notions, emotions,
and champagne oceans,
and at least one derailed train
of thought.

And I wonder if a pigeon with the flu
says cu-cu-katchoo?

 

#57

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , ,
14 Jan 2012
2 Comments

Doin’ the Limbic Limbo

I hope this ringing in my ears isn’t bothering you
It’s just the residue
of too much thinking at the wrong time.

In the middle of the night my brain builds
Dada poetry out of my life,
cutting and pasting fragments together until
I wake up wondering ‘what the hell was that about?’
 
Day time finds my brain in relatively sane working order
reasoning and resolving, reasoning and resolving.
But at night it’s like a sixteen year old left alone
in the house. “No parties” I warn as I drift into sleep.
 
But as soon as my eyes close my brain pops the cork
and the world begins to show up,
in costume,
on unicycles
and ready to party.
 
Just before I wake, my brain attempts to make
a sketchy clean up but I’m sure those stains on my cerebellum
are from a couple of hippocampus with dirty feet
doing the limbic limbo
while my amygdala debates
flight versus fight.
“Oh my God, she’s waking up! Run!”
Good Morning.

 

#21

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , ,

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