Best Axon Poems


You Man

You Man

-a request by Mam Aiyah

You as a man can fill up this world
With the love of your heart,
Let them flow into your veins
As the oxygen of your spirit
Goes into the lungs of your kindness

You as a man can share the thoughts of your brain,
Even though your memory is not that enough to complete the story
Let your axon abound and connect to the spinal cord of your dreams

You as a man can smile with your lips
Let there be a good quotes for every word
Of your mouth as they slip,
Swallow all the sorrows, 
Cut the sadness of your teeth, make them fly away

You as a man can show your eyes with happiness,
Mix this with inspirations
As they blink in with visionaries

You as a man can smell the fragrance of nice posture
Strain the bad from good using your cilia,
As your thumb and index made it concrete
And threw them at a distance

You as a man can hear solutions,
Can fight all the negative pictures
With your muscles in your skeleton,
You can build a problem killer device
Energy is your emotions,

You as a man can face all of your knotty points
You can hold the sky,
As your feet stay on the ground…
Because you as a MAN,
Is H U M A N…

First Farewell

We wrapped a long length of red holy cloth around
his body, slung him between two green bamboo poles,
and carried him to the edge of the Bagmati river.
We covered his cold nostrils with soft cotton balls and
placed six sacred beads of Rudraksha in his palm for moksha.
 
We lit a bunch of sandalwood incense and stuck their points
near his head. We threw a tong of rice on his chest and started
chanting mantras for the peace of his soul. I walked around
the pyre with a burning piece of wood and lit a handful of kindling
at his feet. The dry logs whooshed and the pieces of flesh 
sizzled and spluttered. The flakes of ashes flew off and fell on our heads.
 
Later, as the sun turned red on the horizon, we left the burning
pyre to go home. The black oil lantern was hanging down from the wall
its faint orange light barely filled the balcony of my house. 
Nearby, my small brother kept on expecting for Grandfather home soon
from the farm, with a bottle of baby pots, pedaling his rusty axon bicycle.

Inferiority Complex

Although yours truly modest,
     the only personal issue
     I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering
self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
     than most definitely incipient,
academic deadlines

loomed large with dread
and exacerbated by procrastination
     quickly adopted as linchpin
damned obsessive compulsive
currents (i.e. thoughts) fed
modus operandi, which intricate
schema writ over lifetime invisible
within this talking head

who ironically enough
never uttered a beep
engendered from lack
     of confidence, esteem,
     somehow worthlessness,
     insignificance,
     emasculation, et cetera
took root, and didst leap

(axon to neuron)
and said mindset did seep
percolating into every nook,
     and cranny comprising
     aging shades, transformed
gray matter, sans this
beatle browed bummer, a deep
purple, though easily mistaken

for minuscule Uriah Heap,
or perhaps, ewe might notice,
(albeit while in a sheep
push disposition) similarities
between mine fist
sized thinker, and another creep
pee totally tubular Charles Dickens
     character, or maybe

     even a commercial
     for nano bot sized jeep
grand Cherokee keep
up a moderate clip despite,
and/or because I
oft times feel a light
buzz sensation within me quite
average gummed up noggin

     jammed numb skull,
     (essentially barren aged
     teenage wasteland recently
undergoing gentrification),
(yeah how really) excite
ting, a no brainer fright
fully glommed with peevish
gobbledygook plus worthless,

obsolete, and crammed academic right
hand busily twiddling, scribbling,
     and sloppily drafting
     error riddled assignments
deliberately failing heavily
marked with bright
colors adding oomph
to mental blight

punctuated by
     attaining puny height
(...oh, about seventy inches),
     nonetheless, my slight
physique and mute quiet
     as a mouse, I might
as well hove been a stand in
     for Charlie Brown right

down to the tree eating kite
good grief - never an ending fight
with Lucy, hence now this knight
in rusty armor forever
     disparaged his might
and attests to
     20/20 hind sight!


I Will Be There

The children always part their ways when they grow. Not because they don't love parents but because they feel no body understands them. They can't get over their emotions,  they can't see what they have yet not imagined. 
A parent knows the behavior isn't a mistreat, it is just that s/he is drowning in emotions. May what happen a parent can't leave, coz this is the time when the child really needs them.
A promise that a parent always keeps:



When the pearl is floating upon salty water. 
I shall be there before it dribbles down. 

When ever a spark is triggering the axon. 
I shall be there to stifle before destruction. 

When faults come crawling  to tremble. 
I shall be there to clasp and embrace.

When the star of hope is conking out. 
I shall be there to lay hold of.

When the forlorn creeper is longing for support.
I shall be there till the last drop of blood.

When walking through the mist in dense dark forest. 
I shall be there to pave the way n make sure that nothing bothers. 

When Shying away in the eclipse. 
I shall be there to remove obstruction to see you gleaming  like the Sun .


When the regret pours down like rain. 
I shall be there to jump beside in puddle n make the sorrow faint. 


WORD REFERENCE :

Dribbles :  To move downwards in a thin flow
Axon: Nerve fibre that conducts electrical impulses
Stifle: To stop something happening
Faults : Cracks in the earth's crust along which there is movement.
Tremble: Shake in fear
Clasp: A firm hold with the hands or arms. 
Lay hold off: To hold
Forlorn: Not cared for
Conk out: Completely lose functionality.

Waging Words

Amateur poetry season is over, move closer, its wisdoms time for disclosure,
The takeover, sober, waging raging kosher words….….. Transferred,  
ABC’s with wise syntax, heard and dispersed to the brains synapse, 
Jumping the gaps, from axon to dendrite with inner insight, so go write,
From higher heights, beyond the clouds drop eloquent lines departing with tips, they exist composing manuscripts,
Intrigued observers are given apprenticeships, those with zero fatigue before the apocalypse,
Deciphered divinely and discharged upon earth from moving lips,
Simpleminded unknowledgeable critic’s quick to judge, too much neurotransmitter sludge,
Rather like a Gold Rush, traveling promptly to these passages emplacement, 
Filed rhymes in the uncorrupted minds location, layman’s trivial mentation left in the basement,
Inspired statements forever, the fewest few only believe, however,
Feuds with biology of belief disbelievers, conceive intellectual transgressors,
Exercising self with better endeavors, adapting to intelligence, apt genius’s,
Dextrous minds equipped with germinating seeds ridding the phoenix and exiting this world’s nexus,
Those in line are next, complex thoughts impart light to their neocortex with quantum sight and emotional arousal,
A causal relationship with special inspiration, a skill at ease for those with understanding psyches. 

Quincy Mac
Date Written: 28.5.2016
© Quincy Mac  Create an image from this poem.

Though Nervous

Though Nervous...

Yours truly, quite dissimilar
to a woodlark,
nonetheless, this human
i(r)onically positively charged
to forge covalent bond,

hence this stranger
axon impulse to generate,
modulate, and spark...
assimilate virtual digital connection
with mine quark

key aura, charisma,
and karma acquired,
sans "FAKE" trumpeting
assertion tubby Ozark
Mountain Daredevil, I feign

boasting as true mark
Putin on Ritz storyteller wannabe,
incorporated with hallmark
card writer, and thus
feeble attempt to embark

upon eurythmic quest
to facilitate online journey,
wherever the whim
of reciprocity, spontaneity,
and transparency doth
deem reasonable benchmark.

Blatant camaraderie desire
explains rhyme and reason,
(and collusion) if such tactic appealed
within scrunched, highbrowed, and furrowed
forehead this whim congealed,

eyebrows raised with elan to field
said poetic laced metrical pursuit
(grammatically well healed)
unsure what outcome,
(perhaps duff feeted endeavor)
might be revealed!

At deux score away from
attaining Sant Henny yawl
whirl wide aging cobwebs
glom rusty cogs and wheels
of me noggin pine to flip

(the hands of time)
growing old steals
often playing back gauzy past,
where silently musty
Old Virginny hoary memory reels

squeakily turn, yet revisiting,
painful remembrance of things past
only reminds me how this Scottish Matt
got stepped on by many heels.

Numerous unpleasant vivid bro
kin recollections of doomed,
foregone smitten loves flit to and fro
many awkward boyhood infatuations never
broached to secret paramour,

asper this common Joe
forever embossed pretty thang,
penniless and dolorous 1959 minted
baby boomer lass ne'er did know,

probably snickered (out of mine earshot),
a painfully shy lad, who stood
(rather small) apart from status quo
sported nerdy skinny as toothpick physique
encompassing scared kid accumulating woe.

Even at this instant forlorn romantic
notions finds this papa craze
zilly wished courage existed to
whisper "hello" during prepubescent days
for one gull in particular engendered

unstoppable fervent gaze
especially within cat's whisker
visiting her hypnotic gaze
leaving suppressed, locked, and bottled
languishing testosterone
squelched in confusing maze.


Shana Aubrey Harris - Part Two

a boon against strife 
wool worth effort and propensity 
to revel qua biological miracle re: said offspring 
did inadvertently teach me lessons of life 

to cherish and savor each giggle, laughter and smile 
amidst cramped apartment plus feeling 
discombobulated frustration bubbling rife 
introducing yours truly 
to tha hen pecked moody blue wife.

pockmarks can vouchsafe this un beak able trait
from spouse, who need not be lambasted 
on account of increased weight. 

Like a human bobbing sponge youngest progeny 
absorbed auditory/ visual multitude 
within each axon and neuron of that infantile sensory 
“sir” kit board aware at a tender young age 
how she struggled to string words together 
to convey a mood 

predilection with language impediment 
possibly passed thru umbilical rip cord. 
No idea thru combination of genetics and biology 
that burnished beautiful lass oof an offspring 
wrought a smart girl, an apple of the eye 
per this father who never thought 
thru attempts at conception sought

supremely melded genes, he thought 
loves labors last, t’would come 
to naught delivered us an artistic, 
intrinsic, linguistic lass 
who for no price can be bought
though someday, a young lad will take a fancy 
(as ought to be the path of biology)
and hoop fully brings ye happiness 
for your remaining lifetime
with a numeral 
(following a number from one to nine) 
with many an aught! 

TOO LOVE YOU MY DEAR SHANA - 
MORE THAN THIS SHABBY POEM 
CAN CONVEY, WHICH...
UPON ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND - 
ABOVE GIBBERISH JA PROBABLY 
WILL PROBABLY RAISE ARMS UP 
IN DESPAIR UTTERING OYE VAY!

Gravitation Defied

Even now, Pigeons stool surprised 
     while ensconced in dovecote
whose twittering translated as coo coo not bright
asper Icarus aiming for mythic cull magic did excite
     popularized notion to take winged flight

And for twenty first century mortal to wax poetic  
     this January 2018 bitterly, brutally day and night
Stymied sans principle 
   contradicted laws of Physics 
   soaring to limitless height
Away from temporal axon light

Into the infinite cosmic dendrite
Realization to soar above heavenly vault 
      spectacular sight
Brainchild of anonymous genius minds 
      left stratospheric legacy 
     To witness awesome might
break away, sans gravity 

     tacit Obeisance acknowledged 
     this hundred year plus anniversary
     Aero planes success got off the ground
     Pardon saying may come across as trite
More than a century elapsed 
   since machines first attempt to remain aloft
     Man made invention glittered silvery white

Beauty, grace and poetry in motion 
     excises Luddite trace
     Despite countless fatal crashes 
     Tragedy to those loved ones lost in fiery plight
Invisible ethereal essences dwell 
     and hover some place 
     Occupy a netherworld housed 
   with fellow nymph and sprite

Return to Earth to deliver miracles 
   and prevent near disasters
Although many a skeptic 
   may ascribe phenomena to luck despite
Angelic visage impossible to dispute quite.

Interrupt This Message...

I've been hiding here for years
but you don't know my name
You call me something different
but to me it's just the same
I'm hungry all the time
though I don't eat and tell
I love that cream colored coating
now, you don't feel so well
I devour meat and fats
but I never feel full
I've seen the 'nodes of Ranvier'
with them I have some pull
While I devour fiber with no shame
let me interrupt this message

I've been hiding here for years
but to me it's just a game
You call "myelin, my meal
I was born to inflame
I like getting on your nerves
and there is nothing you can do
Though You'll keep on trying
you can't move when you want to
So make them stop all the research
I must continue to consume
for I mantain control
in this axon of a room
so while I pause to feed
Let me interrupt this message...

I'll continue hiding here for years
as you complain about fatigue
I don't care about your fears
I must fulfill my needs
While you suffer I only hope
they never come up with a cure
because that inventive medication
might make you who you were
You would be walking once again
and feeling really fine
M.S. would be defeated
then I'd run out of time
Oh no, you've taken something new
and you interrupt this message
interrupt this message...
interrupt this mess...
© Jack Kenny  Create an image from this poem.

Axon Burgess

My name is Axon Burgess
I am broken and thin
I went to fight for glory and right
but only drank more gin 

Before he died
my friend would confide 
about his sister's beauty
if her eyes did look at me 
her eyes would look right through me 

What are you doing in this town?
Who are you looking for,sir?
The girl who's face launched many a ship
I am looking for her 

What are you doing in this town?
Who are you looking for,sir?
The girl who is a cathedral of butterflies
I am looking for her 

What are you doing in this town? 
Who are you looking for,sir?
The girl who walks as gentle as a fawn 
I am looking for her

Unit 8 Chapter Nine

Discect the cetacean on the table
Intercept the axon if you are able
Detect the carcass beneath the table
Protect the deadbeats, as they are unable.

Seven Senators Stood Singing (p)salms!
Shrimp stuffed pie crust often alarms!
consideration only harms!

Boris Yeltzin with upraised Arms!

Bursts of Creativity

Bursts Of Creativity...

Asper myself tend
to occur late at night,
or early morn 'o follow
wing day unbeknownst
despite acute insight
how, when, where, why...

ideas swarm and bite
inspiration doth alight
try as I might to
coax, anchor right,
burning candlebox at
both ends during midnight

oil, and pry open hermetically airtight
noggin, where my poetic
(side) juices glommed up tight
blew silly blackened, and barbed
as though cold anthracite
ash coal lest futile effort

fueling mental cogs synaps (snaps),
sans each axon and dendrite,
and damn pinwheeling frenzied
writer's block won't budge,
no matter intense aghast fright
regarding drawing nothing,

but blank screen, an unpleasant sight
which activates greater fright
concentration stoppers appetite
to satiate agile literary skill
invoked with all mum might
encountering severe

resistance along well worn
nicked, pitted, rutted...
central processing unit abysmal sight
core cratered tracks analogous trite
other places blasted as if by dynamite
nanobot size infrastructure blight

hmm... huff frayed
to admit fifty plus shades
of grey pock marked beltway abustle
with at least bajillion
self important cosmopolite

avast friggin buzzfeed contrasted with bevy
of heavily rowdy, yet polite
sumo wrestlers exuding
spongy dimpled cellulite,
nonetheless grueling effort experienced
with craven half starved diabolical spite

undermining, jackknifing,
dogging... literary endeavor to expedite
satisfactory pièce de résistance flight
of fancy, though challenged
every step of the way,

once ambition fired up...at twilight
as mortal passion
unstoppable to complete
crafting daily poem
kindled with emotional lignite!

Laps and Gaps In My Synapse

Laps and Gaps in My Synapse

Synapse definition, a region where nerve impulses 
are transmitted and received, encompassing the axon 
terminal of a neuron that releases neurotransmitters 
in response to an impulse, an extremely small gap 
across which the neurotransmitters travel, and the 
adjacent membrane of an axon, dendrite, or muscle 
or gland cell with the appropriate receptor molecules                                         for picking up the neurotransmitters.

Having difficult time writing poems lately.

I may have absorbed many nightcaps,
And ended up with lapse in my synapse;
Are correct;
Memory affect,
While cause more and more mishaps.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Inferiority Complex Viz Mine Mien

Inferiority complex viz mine (mien)

Although yours truly modest,
the only personal issue
I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering

self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
than most definitely incipient,
academic deadlines

loomed large with dread
and exacerbated by procrastination
quickly adopted as linchpin
damned obsessive compulsive
currents (i.e. thoughts) fed
modus operandi, which intricate
schema writ over lifetime invisible
within this talking head

who ironically enough
never uttered a beep
engendered from lack
of confidence, esteem,

somehow worthlessness,
insignificance,
emasculation, et cetera
took root, and didst leap

(axon to neuron)
and said mindset did seep
percolating into every nook,
and cranny comprising

aging shades, transformed
gray matter, sans this
beatle browed bummer, a deep
purple, though easily mistaken

for minuscule Uriah Heep,
or perhaps, ewe might notice,
(albeit while in a sheep
push disposition) similarities

between mine fist
sized thinker, and another creep
pee totally tubular Charles Dickens
character, or maybe

even a commercial
for nanobot sized jeep
grand Cherokee keep
up a moderate clip despite,
and/or because I
oft times feel a light
buzz sensation within me quite
average gummed up noggin
jammed numb skull,
(essentially barren aged

teenage wasteland recently
undergoing gentrification),
(yeah how really) excite
ting, a no brainer fright
fully glommed with peevish
gobbledygook plus worthless,
obsolete, and crammed academic right
hand busily twiddling, scribbling,
and sloppily drafting
error riddled assignments

deliberately failing heavily
marked with bright
colors adding oomph
to mental blight
punctuated by
attaining puny height
(...oh, about seventy inches,
nonetheless, my slight
physique and mute quiet
as a mouse, I might

as well hove been a stand in
for Charlie Brown right
down to tree eating kite
good grief - never an ending fight
with Lucy, hence now this knight
in rusty armor forever
disparaged his might
and attests to
20/20 hindsight
analogous to Snoop doggy dog.

Broken promises

Promise me your hands will reach out
Resilient attachment starts in childhood
When the brain has colic outside the womb
A mother’s unconditional love soothes worries
When a birthday missed slices the cord
Like two neurons missing a connection
Like a power line cut sparking wildly
Broken wires can’t be mended by tape
Not like broken bones knitted by mitosis
Neurons grow old unable to divide
When a childhood is interrupted 
Axons miss their forlorn dendrites
A childhood interrupted skips a score
Add twenty years to a worrying child
Poor attachment is a forever handicap
The best we can do is read lips like the deaf
No one can heal a drum torn by parents
When attachment fails to meet expectations
The best I can do is take a detour to you
Remind me addictions are poor parents
Their embrace won’t last the night like you
Addictions arise when attachment fails
They lie, no one will love you like them
They are fickle friends when parents fail
I’m the axon looking for my dendrite
I’m the mouth reaching for the pacifier
I'll show up for my birthday
I must hold cut wires with both hands
Be the expecting wine looking for a glass
Resilient attachment takes a detour
Take the long way home
Promise me I'll be there for me

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace