Best Concussion Poems
Endless percussion thumping away with no time to say stop talking so much stop banging away “Concussion” Tuning out the banging noise rat a tat tat, endless rifts with nothing to say, no fluidity, noise without end, no musical interlude exit the concert to let my brain mend “Concussion” Everyone complains that is normal that is the way, but to be a broken instrument, broken strings, repeating record all I can say is enough is enough we all support you ok, stop with the endless percussion, mend your skins, your strings, change you brain, sing a tune become a rock star with a sweet musical interlude. Concussion.
.....Nothing
there is nothing there.
Im not saying im stupid
just at the moment
nothing is going throught my brain.
was that a thought running thought my head?...
nope
its gone.
I cant remeber what I am supposed to be doing.
Normally a whirlwind of thoghts,
A blaze of pictures
whisper of voices,
kaleidoscope of emotions
millions of alternative theories,
All racing through my mind
at hyperspeeds unkown to man.
But right now
my eyes are open,
with out seeing
my ears are listening,
with nothing to hear
my hands are moving,
with out feeling
my tounge rests in my mouth,
with out texture or taste.
my nose is clear,
with nothing to smell
Suspended Animation
it is strange to see,
but not process.
like looking at a two dimmentional image,
yet not at all.
You have nothing to say,
becuase there is nothing to say.
nothing is in your head,
or at least nothing helpful
the blank stare of the dead
is upon a living face.
the lost of my mind
doesnt have diction.
I stumble throught the ruins,
Abandoned nero-structues
unused and abused
Awed at the emptyness
muted by the dusted silence
staring off,
at nothing.
Just staring.
blankly staring.
staring
Not a poem, a message for the love of brains, yours and your loved ones. Most doctors don’t know about this as conventional medicine is still catching up with traumatic brain injury. This recipe attacks the inflammation, helping to prevent an all out fire, an inflammation cycle from starting, preventing Post Concussion Syndrome from taking hold. I can tell you, PCS ain’t fun. Bless everyone, write this down.
4g NAC (N-Acetyl Cysteine)
1000mg Vitamin C
1000mg Curcumin
10000mg Vitamin D
Devised by Dr Kabran Chapek.
Forgive me my loved one for I have violated you,
a backlash of reaction I don’t know what to do.
A lashing at what I deserved just the same,
all of what I am in trauma and insane.
Last night in my dreams your anger flashed in my head,
you so enraged with fury, I’m better off dead.
You must realize that your beauty captivates me,
making me crazy, volatile and incoherent to reason.
What it is I do to you and how I make you feel,
it hurts now I know and it sucks cause it’s real.
I understand now that I’ve strayed from respecting you,
a concussion on both our parts, something we have to undo.
My Brain is on Fire
My Thoughts are blacken and cracked
My Soul is trapped in a mire
My Body feels racked
I am forever changed
Am I forever lost?
I am forever deranged
Am I knowing the true cost?
Oh God, what is the plan
Why could I have not been hit harder?
Oh God, I do not know where it began
Why could I not have been smarter
I wish I could find peace
Maybe just find some release?
exposed
nerve
grinding
away
nuts
the free state is actually not free
casting my line into the many manipulations
worked by dust devils and hierophants
gambling their grunt wages on my young ass
like cowboys on a cattle free vacation
unwelcome by all rational standards
it's a new skill set for those complicated shadows
and their thistles and thorns tearing at the flesh
hounds snuffing and baying and getting close
wishing for an angel to wrap her arms around you
swindled by Fate that two bit alley hustler
while storming the gates of credulity
a knight most errant enters at a slant
lance lowered at the donjon's holy centrifuge
and its manifold rank ranks of rank
an armload of blackmail mail to deliver
keeping those bacon and eggs on the menu
with every move and happenstance an augury
the one thing that can never be said
with all such derivative conclusions
from those who fear becoming has beens
more than they fear the death wagon
an envy complex every child's heirloom
Fate's leg rubbed mine under the table
hunted me down with yellow eye wolves
her deluvian templates swung into action
contouring my meat manikin to the last atom
in a mechanical avalanche of likenesses
credibility factor fading like a wet witch
being clueless this seemed applicable to my case
unable to attenuate the accursed guilt magnets
a contriver of advantage beneath the beasts
a product of her times assuredly no excuse
concussion therapy and then crimson horror
you'll want to live among people that talk straight
not having to be lunatic or trapped in ethnology
to find oneself receptive any longer
No One can see the tears in my eyes
For I wear dark glasses
No One knows my true demise
For I feel my life is blowing ashes
The driver behind me did not pay attention
I doubt he thought how it would forever change my life
The driver what was his intention
I doubt he considered how it would wound my wife
The headaches are pounding drums in my head
The earaches screech like fingernails on a chalk board
But maybe enough is said
I will pray to the Lord
For he will never understand
He will never see me covered in vomit
For he might believe he never really had a hand
He will never see the pain as I hide in my closet