}} The Poet Stopping by Some Brains Etc. by Philip Nikolayev |

Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










The Poet Stopping by Some Brains Etc. by Philip Nikolayev

(For Stephen Sturgeon)

Whose brains these are I think I know,
Although I still have leagues to go
To apprehend in all this mess
The origin of consciousness.

It is a solitary funk
To watch the mind dispose of junk,
Tabula rasa it no more,
Containing food for thought in store.

My gentle mental daemon tugs
Upon gray matter or whatever:
A simple simile closely hugs
What to the lake is water.

So placid here the mind occurs,
Temporarily heals the nerves,
Achieves a unique balance,
A momentary wellness.

The wells of thought are drowning deep,
The sleep of reason gives me the creeps,
And all this nonsense on my lips
Ain’t worth so much but cheers me heaps.
The wells of thought are drowning deep.