Lobotomized Poems | Examples

Over And Under The Cuckoo's Nest

swimming
like lobotomized fish
in a psychiatric pond.

following to follow—
not following to lead.

following the leader,
following like sheep.

the pied piper
always made
such a fine shepherd
for those
who don’t 
think.

Evening Sonata

Written: December 28, 2023
                ______________________________________

flounder in fictional field
—squeals and squeaks
Whimpers and growls
Sylphic swaying,
of flames spewing,
inwardly throbbing 
of my nostril
lobotomized cosmic orbs.
scent of cinnamon
and coral on a rosary
interlaced of aurulent rimes. 
 

Shrouded your burgundy &
coniferous ravines
loop of vitality
& unbearable redemption
in spanning eons,
ineffable wonder cradled
by melodic hums and buzzes
of lazy heat
and whistles of pitches
of endless hymns
echoes of choral chants
sung by soloists. 

black ravens croaking,
like peals of doom
dewy allelomorphs
with waft-aloft wings
angels of ethereal whisper
of thunder,
that rang deafeningly
through the crevices,
of anodal motion
scurrilous loci
modeled as diploid.

The Grand Order Has Gone Mad

What holds us together
has been torn, the unity
of a people split apart. 
Both poles have lost
their grip and rupture
into division.
Categories now proliferate 
and place each soul
into a labeled box governed
by the ideologue.

Word by word, language 
has been commandeered by fear
and threatened with shame.
Good words are put on trial, 
stripped of meaning and sentenced 
to silence. They sleep in old books 
sought out by the apparatchiks 
for removal or to be replaced
by neutered covers.
Soon Macbeth will be lobotomized 
to reduce the risk of upset.

The grand order has gone mad. 
Long lines of citizenry queue 
for entry into asylums
now spreading
like shopping malls.
Others won't leave home
and ossify in the safety
of their shuttered rooms.
Meanwhile, to the chants 
of a sterilized song,
children skip towards
glittering castles hanging 
precariously in thin air,
proud parents happily
clapping them along.

Slaughterhouse News

yet they thrive.
there's no other way: they like the soap opera.
subliminal, it opens a hole in their brains.
then they sleep lobotomized,
to wake up lambs with stale bread in the morning,
happy and huddled together on the train heading to the slaughterhouse.
Carpe Dien, says the old woman that saw the movie.
everything is worth it when the soul is not small, burp the fat.

the man shakes, squeezes, pushes, sneezes and falls 
out of the composition.
later with his hands constricted 
he'll be on the graveyard ridge,
in that blue suit that mom gave...

(the flowers have that seasick smell 
and no birds follow the procession).

the dead man's dreams are spiraling 
like the smoke of that one's cigarette:
leaves the crooked mouth and rises through the air, 
disappearing in front of the leafless tree, 
going to pollute more the atmosphere of hidden tensions, 
of the agonies that came to nothing.
a bark wakes the gravedigger.
here we go!

Declawed

declawed but not lobotomized 
I can still think for myself
I cannot be branded nor categorized

And Taketh Away

And Taketh Away

Locked in a realm undefined and
Unimaginable to the onlookers through
The lens of a mechanical being with
An intelligence and compassion that
Exceeds that of our so-called leaders
Of the “free world” purchased with
The blood, sweat, and tears of those
Who could not qualify for the giveaways
Because their names could not be sold
For profit and gain in the economic
Chaos that lobotomized reason and
Compassion out of the minds of those
Who had the resources to find us before
We passed beyond a veil that separates
The living from the late ones; late because
They did not realize that the One we look
Up to giveth and taketh away.

It Is What It Is

It is What it is – weasel words for our times

We live in an age 
Of the weasel words
Orwellian thought police run amuk
Words used as weapons
To limit critical thought
And avoid rational thought

These words are everywhere
Few question them
Most fall in line
Hypnotized lobotomized
 by these weasel words

the president is a master
of using words as political weapons
to demonize his opponents
to browbeat them into submission
throwing up mental traps around them

it is what it is
what does that even mean
what is the it that is
and what is the reason

that it is what it is
no one can answer
no one really knows

it is what it is after all
and who are you to question
the President’s reality?

And so it goes
The endless parade
Of the weasel words
That have corrupted
Our minds and our very souls

Doing what they are designed to do
Shutting down our critical thinking
As we all submit to the needs 
Of the corporate system
That has taken over the world 
 
And that is the meaning
Of it is what is

Grassroots Revolution

The government’s been lobotomized	
The left and right’s too polarized
The media has us hypnotized		
All the topsoil’s getting sterilized
What have we gotten ourselves into?

Nobody’s talking face to face		
They need a computer interface
If we keep going at this pace		
There won’t be no more human race
What have we gotten ourselves into?

I humbly propose a clean solution	
We don’t need to change the Constitution
No need to make no contribution	
Just start a grass roots revolution
Stop being the problem and be the solution

If you don’t know what’s going on, WAKE UP!
If Big Brother’s doing wrong, SPEAK UP!
If someone’s hurting someone, STAND UP!
Be a participant in life, not a critic, not a spectator.

Someday when you’re old and gray	
You might look back fondly on today
Was it the day you chose a better way	
Or was it just like any other day
To change the world, change yourself first and expand from there.

Start a grass roots revolution.

Burn the Soul

When you burn books
Fahrenheit 451
You burn the soul of nations
When you censor them
The mind is lobotomized
Blocked truth, all butterflies die
Never see the light of day
Colors turn to gray
Turn us all robotic numb
Pounding one note on a drum
I've got your number
The human mind is a wonder
*A tabula rasa untapped and void
You are number one
Xenophobia plus 451
Under the black sun 
The soul burns well done


*Tabula rasa refers to the epistemological idea that individuals are born without built-in mental content and that therefore all knowledge comes from experience or perception. Proponents of tabula rasa generally disagree with the doctrine of Innatism which holds that the mind is born already in possession of certain knowledge.

Journey

A knife penetrating through
My layers of sentinels
Mixes the poison 
With my blood
Terrorized, lobotomized
I tread the path
Scratching the doors
No one to open
Surrounded by rocks
Bound to be crushed
Vultures pick up the pieces
Spat in disgust
Not hard enough
Could I become

Poemize the Math

They say one only can be wise,
                      If able to mathematize.
                      But what really underlies,
                      Is the failure to alphabetize.
Our numbers are arabicized,
A language to be more precise.
So is everything programmized,
Just language, oversimplified.
         So maths freaks, wouldn’t it be wise
         To speak in poems, homogenize,
         Don’t let us feel lobotomized
         Let’s feel the love, romanticize!

***

April 14, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Help!!!!!!

Upon the sheen a shine is shone
In the glen, the glow is gone

In places, picking and poking fun
At races, the rockin, rollin run

Sits the dark, in dank despair
Blows the breeze, begone, beware

Chewing cud a curdled cow
Mews the monkey a cat’s meow

Grooks and Geese agree to grow
Short and shorter by saying so

The rain, the rhyme the rolling pin
Here and there and back again

Nonsense nestled noggin wise
Brain is baked, lobotomized

© Jul 5 2010 For Deb's "Anything Goes" contest

Hallucinations

Long white halls that echo with pain,
Where strait jackets lord and beckon with shame.
The therapy numbs and visits are feared,
You’re sane if you hallucinate here.

Patterns of colour and visions of gold,
Prophecy of end-times and things to behold.
Voices from the dead, alive in your head,
Where Lucid dreams are far from your bed.

Back to reality, therapy time,
Dragged through the chaos of psychotic minds.
The ECT a daily chore,
The result of looking through that door.

Brought back to a place in your youth,
Where the fantasies are induced.
Is it real? it seems so real!
Then a bolt from the blue has the Reaper revealed.

Cold hands grab your skull to wake you,
The Cuckoo’s nest now seems too true.
Your world becomes lobotomized,
There’s no one now behind those eyes.

Drifting like the drifting of a tune,
Back to your world that makes you swoon.
No telling what’s real anymore,
Just hallucinate and ignore.

Lobotomized

You want me to sympathize,
betrayal blatant in your eyes,
I can see through your disguise,
treachery is no surprise.

All you do is criticize,
expect me to apologize,
I'm sick of living with your lies,
you, who cannot compromise.

The way you look may mesmerize,
some may even idolize,
a master, when you improvise,
one more soul you'll victimize.

Your followers lobotomized,
helpless and disorganized,
your answer is to sexualize,
the Queen Bee in her bogus hive.


©Danielle White

Hello

Nother round of fun at hospital.  I was x-rayed, y-rayed, cat-scanned, dog-
scanned, sun tanned, lobotomized, hypnotized, capitalized, cross eyes.  All copd 
and heart failure again.  no sleep 4-5 days.  didn't eat for 3.  just couldn't breathe.
c'est la' vie.  it's the way it is, and gotta grin and bear it.  Later'.

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