Two sides

It is common to accuse the right or left lobe

for your logical or creative stumble,

when, in reality, these two dimensions of self,

the brain divided, may be called Past & Future,

or memory and planning.

People still get stuck.

The human skull does not seal the two sides

as one mind, until around age thirty.

Conveniently, it is also easy to divide

All people into two types;

Those that arrive early and those that are chronically late.

I will wait

until now comes

together.

♠

The frigate and dolphin sleep

one lobe at a time as they both traverse across

mirroring vast expanses of blue. 

‘Biologists’, we call them,

all conclude that They, the bird and the aquatic mammal

do not communicate in the same way,

Exactly.

Have you ever thought about someone you knew,

historically, and then

seen them somewhere

presently,

out of nowhere?

This is not called ‘coincidence',
It is pronounced eloquence. 

Photo of 'Bottlenose' By claudia14 [CC0 or CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Where Art thou Writer?

I tried to paint black cows on a moonless night,

it never came out right, 12 times out of ten,

but then I added blue and I knew

I was not a painter,

so I quit for a bit.

I tried cleaning

Once

I tried mapping, lists, and other gists of things,

All of which turned out were wrong.

then I wrote, and wrote and wrote

without periods,

and tried and tried to stop the words whizzing

by, arrest and test, to find the best ones.

I was fooled, I failed again and again

picking pyrite on sight,

my carbon spilt into lead,

took nothing out but blood,

a flood of it and died on the page.

Now the cows can sleep peacefully,

if only I could see.

Artwork by Paulus Potter (c. 1647) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Will there be cake?

Consciousness tingles, it is innuendo.
Inference must mean Independence.
Did you feel it too?
What is made is meaning,
adding weight to white.
Creativity expressed, is a calculated
release of logical liability,
lingering in anonymity.
Who knew: What it signals: Symbols
And suggestions are like trees
noticed or not
we breathe and need.

My name, like yours, I borrowed
because of its beauty
which withers when said by self.
This Time, made new for you,
an apparition, re-rapt; a peek-and-boo
solely for your special occasion.
What's inside? It is red.
Firing systematic flares in synapse, see red.
Silence is listening as loud as possible.
Aren't all words formal invitations?
-Nevermind-
We are all too busy to attend.



Image By Ministry of Information Photo Division Photographer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.