Perhaps he pretty much was a slouch
Obviously because he never left his couch
Under that gut he had quite the brain I can avouch
Could be churlish and his taste quite louche
He made his money from selling his indoor poncho with a built in …
Everyone wants to know who came first
Gonna tell you, I know the true answer. I wasn’t supposed to say a peep.
Give me a break! My brain’s not scrambled. This is no yolk!
So you want to bust my shell? Then I’m not telling you, so keep your nosey beak to yourself!
He danced along his mental landscape
Enjoying the infinite possibilities inside his mind
Allowing his imagination to go wild
Determined to escape the reality his meat brain was stuck in
The words called to his soul. He ached to get away from their siren call, but there was no escape.
He felt them crawl into his brain, eating the cells one by one and replacing them with their offspring. Sweet sleep would end his captivity, but the words would not give him his rest. Soon he was driven mad. He didn’t care what would happen to his mortal shell, the words were all that mattered.
The next morning was tough, and staying awake at work would be almost impossible, but the novel was done and that meant he found peace.
Image: images.pexels.com/photos/46274/pexels-photo-46274.jpeg
I am synthesizing information in an attempt to immolate my brain cells, allowing me to warm my frozen thoughts about the subject, yet the thaw has yet to come. I huddle in obscurity, surrounded by obscenities used, but not forgotten, built up to keep me from seeing my failure from the outside.
Still hope tries to grow inside though it hasn’t seen the light of inspiration or the nourishing rain of success in so long it might as well be on the dark side of the moon. Should I just collapse this rhetoric into a black hole of consciousness?
Probably.
Image: 3c1703fe8d.site.internapcdn.net/newman/csz/news/800/2018/newresearchc.jpg
To think that the world could be his never entered Matt’s brain
He thought hard then began to come up with his want list
Really all he needed was a ham sandwich at that moment
Everything else seemed secondary
Except he did want a collie as well
When he was done with those two, he thought about his last one
It should be something important
Something that could make a difference to everyone he met
He thought really really hard
Eventually he came up with what he thought would do best
So he asked to make anyone smile if he showed them his own
Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/42/Border_Collie_20_%281%29.jpg
Putting it all on the line
As the brain fires on all cylinders
Giving a new world the breath of life
Even as the cursor blinks, mocking me
Image: i.stack.imgur.com/AZY1M.gif
Donald thought she looked like an angel
It almost made him hurt how much he wanted her
Vivid ideas about what would happen if they met
Instantly flooded his hormone soaked brain
Nothing would make him not think she was a gift from God
Even when she spread her wings and ripped out his soul
Image: i.pinimg.com/736x/6f/d4/31/6fd431559bb0d37c1f1ac6ea3a7e2471–fantasy-art-angels-fantasy-girl.jpg
Musings I needed to write
Yearning to go to sleep, I throw this out there
Believing in yourself and trusting your inner voice
Rarely will steer you wrong
Ask the questions that need answers
Inscribe on your soul the names of your loved ones
Never sell yourself short
Determine your guiding star and follow it
Until you reach your destination
Maintain due diligence on the world around you
Push your limits to grow your boundaries
Brent watched her hips sway as she walked away
Lust pumped through his veins, leaving little blood for his brain
Urges finally broke his feet free and he started to follow
She spun around on her left foot, stopping him in his tracks
He felt his lust dissolve and rush to his cheeks as she put her hands on those hips
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