Limbic Poems | Examples

Limbic Liminality

Limbic Liminality: 
Souls expand 
Like bones crack 
Thunder through the circuitry 
My mind 
Pine needles aflame 
Death rolling circles through life 
Some strange dimension in an eye-lash 
Killing time like a synapse 
The void folding in like a spider web 
Love cannibalized 
Something more profound 
Twilight madness 
Dionysian dances 
Snow white eats Eris's golden apple 
Drinks her own beauty 
A third eye pops right out of her skull 
Something vampirically visceral 
Like a wandering pentacle
Stitches of fate 
Giving in to Entropy
Dissolution elates the universal sense 
Pain crimson in a sea of Nothing 
Dancing in spite of everything 
I dive right into this quantum space in me 
Limbic Liminality

The Minds Shrouded Catatombd Vaults

Yesterday's passing drifted shadow
Added to our eclectic collected hoards
A bittersweet cocktail of events and instances
Confined captured and tangled cobwebbed corridors
Of to the limbic labyrinth 
The older the memory
The darker the recesses
The further back filed and stored 
Within the canyon of the catacombs 
Where piled high-skeletonised cognitions and permutations 
Reside resulting in a sea of feelings and emotions
Getting deeper as time the thief moves on

Some memories are unwelcomed and dislike to visit
Too painful to view
Are confined to the back of our minds
Reside behind locked doors marked 'No Entry'' 
Bolted padlocked and locked 
By a lost entry key

Some doors are open wide
Not only in our minds
But also within the album of our hearts
That makes our hearts smile upon reflection
Release warm cosy spreading soothing waves 
Of a deep consoling of flooding emotion
Spreading through our souls and very beings.

Autonomic

Antelope graze the savanna,
Without a care in the world,
For literal lack of imagination. 
Languishing in a morning moment,
The herd simply enjoys its munching.

Something else wafts on air,
Some chemosignal delectably taboo.
Sweat beads trickle down his temples.
Savanna creatures pay no heed,
While mysterious molecules send and prime.

Stress triggers a downward spiral,
Hit as if hunted, not the hunter.
Amygdala on overdrive, panting,
Heart pumping to limbic arrhythmia.
Such dark surreal safari is unexpected.

Predator feared is no leopard, no cheetah.
May as well be his reflection in the mirror.
Elusive yet eventual, relentless - inevitable.
Calm now, as I elicit the parasympathetic.
I am a safe sacred space where you have come to rest.


-ARCantu, 05/22/2023

Stage Fright

My sleep stages are Moon phases combing
my limbic system, where I touch electric chords 
singing my survival.

The words I compose dwell in privacy.
I blow the candles out after they are written.
And they wait, poised to be expressed.

But like a child in a nightmare,
I am naked before my audience.
My own words belong to someone else.
My lips move out of sync with my thoughts.
 
A.I. writes a better imitation of my poems.
It will speak its version of me,
parrot its empty parody of me.
You’ll enjoy its rendering of me 
far better than me. 

Like the first motion pictures,
The audience fears the A.I. train 
will mow them down.

Magical thinking about flickering
images on a wall enlisted the same
primal fears as flickering algorithmic
texts.

But no phases of the Moon touch
them. No electric chords will sing, and
no privacy in candlelight is felt
in them.

Instead, we will forget that A.I.
was ever scary.
We will watch it mimic life
                                 like reruns of
                                         nearly forgotten movies.

Published: Caesura - Summer 2023

Brain

The Neocortex
Thinks, the Limbic System feels
What the heart reveals –

Yet Amygdala
Lurking near (though tucked away)
Truly rules the day!

Memeable

Sufficient hydration, she descended the sub-alpine track, distinctive inferno pine scent and the casuarina fragrance formed a perfume mix.

Arriving at a large rock, immediately crashes gently, her limbic suspension of both hands as a neutralizer for gravity, stops.

I am satisfied in front as a martyr, she is like a pendulum. In the nasti motion style, to hold her, heavy load. 

Shift a few inches, grinding the ground, as the force of the collision, rush of breath, thirst, the sound of gulping water, chewing.

She chanted about circumference, cappellaing over his nesting clinks and fingers,

Fresh air,
clear sky,
light breeze,
towering mountain.

Looking at each other after reading the writing in the old paper.

I don't know what gestures are memeable style, full of etiquette.

My Amygdala's Disambiguation

Methinks it's time for me to create
A rhyme.
My marbles have been scrambled and
Methinks it's quite a crime.
To lose the grand red Highway running athwart my mind.
all my T's and F's and Z's are running amuck.

It is the Amygdala's disambiguation
Messing up my brain.

I was making such amazing progress!
I was starting to achieve,
Intrigued I am - about just how the Amygdala disambiguates.
Hower, mussitation in the definition of this disambiguation.
Have left me with a headache of metacognitive frustration.

* Amygdala  - a ganglion of the limbic system adjoining the temporal lobe of the brain and involved in emotions of fear and aggression.

Marrakech and Bangladesh

Marrakech and Bangladesh
       My recall's not that fresh...

     On to the parts of the limbic system
       In school, I usually missed 'em

     Quarks, photons, bosons, and gluons
       Art class? Cut and paste?

     All that stuff you're supposed to learn
       ~ Seems like quite a waste

Drive Train of a Poem

Drivetrain of a Poem	                          
 
During lapsed conscious hours, I have often
wondered and received mutable counsel
in varied tongues– at times uninvited.
This time it was virtual dream.

I sensed caress of a presence
while my pen was stringing strewn patches of
similes, metaphors, rhythm and rhyme. 
“I am watching you from a vantage point 

and your skull is no barrier.” 
He went on: “I see the marauding
lines on the ridges of your mind, 
It seems you are a struggling versifier.
 
Creation is neither forethought nor a whim.
It hails from the sky and gains access 
through the pores of skull.
Mind gets hacked and moves to a different zone.

Chatter picks up in the synapses
seeking untapped cerebral sectors.
Trivial transmitters are kept at bay.
Brain hoes banal growth: new thinking sprouts. 

Frontal inhibitions are banished.
All gates fling open.
No more sentries! No checkpoints!
No fly zone for the critic's megaphone!

Unleashed limbic flow of emotions is
nourished by a Gamma spike in the brain.
There! You pirouette with the lines
and feel the Aha moment.

Slings and Arrows

I foolishly fell from a mountainous high only to land on a desert dry
Images of liquid lust within my emotive eye calcified to a crusted cry
Warning winds in delusory distance holding hurricanes of resistance
Conjuring catacombs of assistance within isolation of nonexistence	

The pensive pain penetrates as the perfidious palette perpetrates
Limbic resonance that hibernates awaking the storm that obliterates
Manipulation of the mangled mind Benedictine battery of the blind
Twisted temperance that is twined the cervical citadels are confined

Dormant delusions that may weep defiant deluge of twilight sleep
Restless roars that reap screaming shadows of the saporous sheep
Bactericidal beacons that bloom wandering the wounded womb
The slings and arrows of doom ebulliently entrapping to entomb.






March.24.2019
Pick A Title, Vol.3 Alliteration 
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh 


Placed 1'st...Thank You

The Grey Grass

I now hug the stormy tree
The bough branch and buds
I now bite the height
Green is turning red and orange
I now hug the bone and blood
I am a tree
Ready to annihilate
I am tornado
My cognitive bowl is hollow
I am now the limbic lobe

Why did I do that
I live with lack of rice and bread
Tired morning and numb evening
How shall I plant the tree
No soil no water no sun
I have no right to love
No right to look at the jasmine
Looking like the night
The flight of fireflies
Not for me
I am the height
Of thought and thought
And thought again

_______________________________
20 November 2018

Prompt: "At times I think, at times I am" ~Paul Valery

Sacred Transitions

What makes a physical place,
and a metaphysical space
sacred?
If anything does,
or could,
or would,
or even should?

Could divine Energy
do less than grow sacred gratitude
for wildlife
and our domesticating WinWin habitats?

NaturaLeft and SpiRightual
healthy physical ecosystems
supported
by-lateral temporal Wonder
swimming in limbic bilateral Awe
within metaphysical ego-subsystems
of Holy EcoMatriarchal WinWin SpiritWomb
praising and paranoid pouting against
AnimaMundi loving all

DNA described,
prescribed,
revived healthing natures,
not just equitably,
but with sacred/secular WinWin integrity.

Wealthy divine Spirits
Healthy humane nature

Integrity of LeftTruth deductions
with ElderRight BiLateralBeauty inductions,
secular wondering egos within sacred awesome ecosystems,
sacred ecosystems
listening for wiser WinWin secular egos.

What makes a physical ego-identity place
and a metaphysical eco-space
both secular and sacred?
If any WinWin DNA thing does,
or could,
or would,
or even should.

Anticipating Aquarius

behind the invisible and locked door Akashic records are re-
corded and monitored (lizards and limbic systems leak fluids) 
as druids sacrifice their lives for the harvest and hum…

the swelling cities ramble and babble
beneath sagging and aging wires
disintegrating and integrating 
into the impalpable web…boiling brains…

blackness eats mouths growing cancer
as the king’s atomic crown blinds all…

the owl recognizes a voice in the orderly wilder-
ness…the first flakes of snow descend…electric hell glows…

all citizens know and obey the silent titles and epitaphs
etched into our stony silence stabilizing foundations of reality…

the texture of madness caresses my psyche
my eyes envision scythes and scathing words…

…caustic causations eat reason out of my tongue… (who are you?) whispers the auto-
mated unconscious answering silhouettes with symphonies…the negative is the final
answer…contracts contract and species sizzle beneath the riddle penetrating the o-
zone…

The Forgotten Spaceman

Lunar eclipse plunges me in shadow.
Orbital, I spin in the dark.
Nebulas, I am insignificant amongst many,
Extra-terrestrial, alone and apart.
Limbic, I drift with creation.
Interstellar, I reunite with my past.
Neutron stars, immense galaxy dustbins,
Eat planets while I watch, aghast.
Severance, I have never felt so keenly,
Screaming, cart-wheeling, into the dark.

The Science of Romantic Attraction

Sexual Attraction
Eyes meet
Pupils dialated
Smiles engage
Neurons connect
Two beings have met.
 
 
Lowering of the head
Tilt of the neck
Open palms
Feet facing
Heart pulsating.
 
 
Shoulders raised
Stomach tucked in
Feet stood apart
an attempt to gain your heart.
 
 
A subtle touch
A embracing hug
A move into one's intimate space
continues the magnetic chase
 
 
Lips kiss
A passionate mist
Cheeks glow
Time seems to gently flow
 
 
Limbic system awakened
Dopamine released
Senses heightened
Body excited.
 
Attraction fully ignited.

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