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My brain’s dialogue (Free verse) by kawakurdi

My brain says: “ I am your brain I am you Yet you exhaust me I must watch over you day and night When you sleep, I don’t. I breathe your breathing I keep your heart beating I digest your eating I process your pulses I dream your dreams I manage your memories You are I Yet I am not sure You exhaust me As if you are a master And I am just a mechanical servant: an automat! But you are not able to love anything I don’t approve You can’t do anything, I don’t authorize Yet I feel I am bound by a meta-rule I follow what you do And you follow what I inspire You sense a thing I create a sense You see a thing I create a sight I enjoy what you do I want more. I inspire, incite, imagine! Yet I feel I do not know you. The way you do not know me. You live in illusion, in delusion You think you dream You fancy I change your fancies into fantasies Your fantasies into fun-to-sees You rejoice You enjoy You indulge In illusion, in fantasies, in day-dreams Look you are now driving in a crowded street. Heavy traffic. Already late. Fed up. You escape to me. To a tiny corner of cerebral cortex. Up there through the leaves of this huge oak-tree You see a strange cloud A white cloud with very blue rims This is the gateway of my escape: you reckon You find yourself up there like a magic bird The cloud is made of fresh mint, green leaves of an oak tree and boughs of a willow-tree All fresh with nourishing scent. I want to rest here. This is my abode. I go along with your fantasies I feed them. I spin them for you. Yet, I watch over you. I keep your unconsciousness conscious. Look out, man! You are about to crash! I protect you. You would be dead by now if I had not warned you in time. You may be dead next time Cause you exhaust me You ignore me so often I do not know you. I don’t know me. What is this brain? This soft, pinkish, greyish, bloody walnut controlling you through the spinal chord? Have you ever asked? Does it ever matter?

kawakurdi 29-Dec-04/6:25 AM
This is another dualsitic dilemma of human consciousness. Brain is supposed to control everything we do. Yet we can talk about brain as the other, exhaust it, overload it, although we are again supposedly not able to do anything without brain's permission. An unanswerable riddle. That is what the poems wants to express.




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