Long Oblongata Poems

Long Oblongata Poems. Below are the most popular long Oblongata by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Oblongata poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Curious Drunk

A drunk has a question
for the bartender

"Hey!! Whazzup mah man!? 
Fill dat to da brim, will ya? 

And Oh, have you been so drunk out of yo 
medulla oblongata ya blurted out 
stuff ya thought were weird 
like blaqbovyitch!! and yestrusri!!
to someone you were talking to
but they weren't weird after all
but then ya go and make it
weird by tryna make sense, 
when ya made sense
in da first place;confusing the hell 
outta yoself, like huh?
wondering "blacka blacka Whoa?"
and dat dude and dat moment 
got really weird, real fast? 
Neither have I. You? Is dat true?"

Bartender: Huh? That's it. No more drinks for you. I'm calling you a cab.


Date written: 05/31/2020


Quiescence Pervades Medulla Oblongata

Outward brain stem hummock
analogously, (asper bound
minuscule magnum opus)
figuratively paginated with drowned
atavistic animal instincts

roar back to life upon found
perceived or real threat adrenaline
splashes cerebral hemispheres
triggering body electric
to become alert as a bloodhound

countless millenniums ago
the flight or fight reaction apropos
when savage beasts
threatened tribe with bro
whizzing primitive creatures 
some forced tweet crow

wing, thence railing, swooping,
trouncing dough
main housing small cluster of emo
ting primates (gabbling in primal
grunts and groans witnessing ruminants

scurrying to and fro
survival of the fittest danger field
thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow
outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, hoe
ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled,
when looming predator doth woof
and warp emergency arises,

when debacle fore stalled
for time against getting mauled
whereby each subsequent ruse
out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew
zing potential breakfast, lunch,
or dinner as the sorry loo

sir aye sic newton, sans 
this non nonsense game of "Life",
which thru countless millenniums strategies grew
layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few
till hetty became diminished

as proper contra bands of bipedal hominids drew
upon accumulated storied history
learned from Bubba Zayda's
many times over motley (foolish) crew

squirreling modus operandi
wove (traversing eons)
corpus collosum hair
(more so nerve fiber weave

a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin
left and right fist size gray matter
coated with transparent integument
custom made swiftly tailored sleeve

ah...proving grounds,
when forebears of *****Sapiens
touch and go tagged on permanent leave
on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.
Form: Rhyme

Quiescence Pervades Medulla Oblongata

outward brain stem hummock
     analogously, (asper bound
minuscule magnum opus)
     figuratively paginated with drowned
atavistic animal instincts

     roar back to life upon found
perceived or real threat adrenaline
     splashes cerebral hemispheres
     triggering body electric
     to become alert as a blood hound

countless millenniums ago
the flight or fight reaction apropos
when savage beasts
     threatened tribe with bro
whizzing primitive creatures some forced tweet crow

wing, thence railing, swooping,
     trouncing dough
main housing small cluster of emo
ting primates (gabbling in primal
     grunts and groans witnessing ruminants

     scurrying to and fro
survival of the fittest danger field
     thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow
outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, hoe
ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled,
when looming predator doth woof
     and warp emergency arises,
     when debacle fore stalled
for time against getting mauled
whereby each subsequent ruse
out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew
zing potential breakfast, lunch,
     or dinner as the sorry loo

sir aye sic newt ton, sans this non nonsense game of "Life",
     which thru countless millenniums strategies grew
layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few
till hetty became diminished

     as con tra bands of bipedal hominids drew
upon accumulated storied history
     learned from Bubba Zayda's
     many times over motley crew

squirreling modus operandi
     wove (traversing eons)
     corpus collosum hair
     (more so nerve fiber weave

a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin
     left and right fist size gray matter
     coated with transparent integument
     custom made swiftly tailored sleeve

ah...proving grounds,
     when forebears of *****Sapiens
     touch and go tagged on permanent leave
     on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.

Soulmate-Soul Lost

Losing her soul to the whirlwind
Her spirit stolen by rainstorm
Body of her became a sacrifice 
To the turbulent blizzard.

Once upon a soul mate 
We both danced in the day
And we have both thrust
Our feet together in the dark

I had thought 
I was the only key to her heart
Until I met the door I left clogged opened
My luggage packed outside in the rain.

I knocked the door endlessly
Still under the bashing of 
A heavy clatter of water from the above
Visibly shaking, fidgeting 
Like a lost pullet with no mother

I heard a heavy laughter from within 
I peeped through the window
Nothing in sight to behold
In my world, rain stopped 
To me alone, it was no longer raining

Heat came over me from within
My head ran fast as I became hot
Is she inside all the while?
Has somebody replaced me?

No, rang through my medulla oblongata
Basking in the effusive 
Hymns of “forever together”
“Bad thought of a bad dream”
I chorused to ‘self

The masculine laughter reverberated 
With a ugly but husky voice 
This time accompanied by a very
Feeble but familiar sonorous voice
Playing the Juliet to the Romeo’s laughter

I am dead, I’m finished 
My soul mate, now soul lost?
Life stared at me without a sire




Alayade Stephen T.
20th of June 2007
03.52pm



NB-Written in Iba,(Ayos) in the house with me, 
Expecting a Mary, and Izobo daughter.

Premium Member A Note On Brahmarandhara

.
                                                  A “
                                                Light
                                             Aflame
                                           Alight on 
                     A note on-  “Brahmarandhra”:-
               An aperture in  the crown- in our head
            In acupressure is  referred as- the point GV 20
          For Fixing the mind in  Dharana is one of the place
        The other place is Heart;  a lotus, flame, deity or Self
      is imagined there. After this  focus one should meditate
     Between the eyebrows …there lies       another vital point
 ~ Often referred as      Third Eye:    Is the Place of Thalamus
     Pair of Eyes take in light          mages are formed in cortex
     There is also Amigdyla              Like a  pair of headphones
      Brain operates controls life.       Breath, Senses, Regulate
       There’s a mechanism in there       A circuitry put in place
     Our senses  travel by thirteen no.     Cranial nerves C1-13
    The cranial  nerves meet At Pons       Medulla oblongata 
    as bulge on  flower stalk, pea size        In our Mid-Brain
    Pair of Eyes~                      Speech~       Our Ears ~
   Sight locked.                      Tongue is       Stay  open
  On tip of nose                    Upturned       Can’t  shut
 Sets a  posture                Lock onto        Nor flap  ears
 Balancing breath.        The palette       Yet hearing stops
Inbreath- outbreath   In Balance.         When in deep sleep 
          In Jainism, Tradition.              Deep Sleep is  Meditation 
         In Kayotsarga -                  Fourth Turiya Is our true nature -
        The bridge on.                Beyond Awake, Sleep,  Dreamless sleep 
       Upper lip is key.          Beyond Jagrat-Sushupta-Swapna , .the Triad
      To keep the focus. The constant in the CNS  Central Nervous System
 Loci of meditation; 1Exit point: Brahmarandhra. 2.in the cavern in heart
The mouth, the lips, the tongue, the speech, taste, hearing, touch organs
  Keeping the senses on hold Connect to Brahmarandhaa, crown on head
     Brahmarandhara: Gateway; Life exits through this point upon death.
.
Form: Concrete


Imagination

LC

I bought an eighty-inch TV,
just for the box—
set it up like a teepee.
Jump in like tee-hee!
Throw the screen out the window.
Let it crash.
Now there’s an 80” stuck in my lawn,
and people slow down just to whisper,
“Wow… this guy’s artsy.”

Turns out Mary didn’t even have a lamb.
She was just a crack head

Life is better made of lead—

Anyway—
I’m the Wall King.
Just walking.
Dripping with metaphors,
casually passing a bar
so packed with puns
I can smell a librarian’s breath
from the sidewalk like:o
shhh… no talking.

I wave.
Web spinner, sinner—what’s for dinner?
Probably canned beans and regret.
I’m a different thinker.
Opened my brain like a paint can
and painted the gray
a little pinker.

No dreams.
Noted.
Polyurethane coated.
Polly, you’re a pain
with your coats and coats
and coats of—

Breathe.
Breathe useless airs.
Angel lets me breathe.
Devil always stares.
But I cares…
I cares. I cares!

That’s when I hear it—
“Hi, I’m Death.”
Oh hey.
Didn’t expect you this early.
Death shrugs:
“As a frequent spectator…
take a side quest.”

So I do.
I walk down to the park
where squirrels are doing calculus
and pigeons speak in Morse code.
I sit on a bench made of half-memories
and I think:

Energy is everything.
It exists inside your mind.
Space is confidential.
Which is why we keep
bumping into each other’s
potential.

Suddenly—flashback.
Sandler, on TV,
taught me about my oblongata—
made connections like:
“Hi, I’m the brain. What’s up, pain and suffering?”
And I answer: Nada.
Then I freeze.
Manual breathing activated.
Chest rising like it has stage fright.
Autonomous… imagination…
and a Beatle told me once—
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da—life goes on, too.

And I laugh.
Because I’m sitting in a teepee
made from a TV box,
eating cold soup with Death,
and nobody can tell me
this isn’t art you see.
Form: Narrative

We . . .Not Frustrated(Prof. Olufemi Bamiro)uivc

WE . . .  NOT  FRUSTRATED

Those whose mouth  speak and ooze 
Only fire of a voluble vibrating vocabulary 

Those whose sin is just speaking for others
In order for their other orders not to be ordered

Those whose lives were almost snuffed
Away by the ordered ultra-fascists gangsters   

Those whose words sparkles only fire 
To fire the unfired spirits into burn- fires

Those whose political jargons-renditions
Send thousands frenzy for action

Those whose offence is probing beyond 
The nostril above their faces

Those who are ostracized for louding the truth
Above the speaker of the U and I garden

                          These
Are those my bird flock together with
During the day in search of the night

I among those given heavy knock on 
The head for these inequities known only to them

I among those who are painted in stinker Toga 
Of  Miscreants, Disgruntled elements,…

I among those placed on a four season wheel-chair
With a gun powder explosion underneath
  
                              But
For them their son that strike the cheek of a Porter
More thunderous a slap to be queried nor be punished

For them their sons and daughters whose oblongata
Remains blank but full of giraffe and chips in the exams
  
For them their  stooges that converse with guns and goons
For them that smile with axes, guns, daggers . . . 
To strike, shoot and maim others

For them  their anchors that knows nothing but something
For out of their nothing lies violence and blood
For they speaketh nor write 

For them their boys they present a golden plate of honour
Found worthy in learning and character
Doomed to become menace to the society
  
For we . . . remain resolute
For we . . . not frustrated 
For  we . . . not cowed 
For we . . . unperturbed 

For we shall uphold the pillar of truth
Until our struggle shall beam light en route the tunnel



Alayande Stephen .T
12th February,2006
11.28am

Conceptualised after my four semester rustication
Verdict by Prof.Bamiro UI VC led SDC in
 University of Ibadan on the  31st of January,2006.
 A Promise to myself to refire  the struggle not to retire.
Form:

From Blank Screen To Logorrhea

most instances when i initially seat
     myself priming creative literary juices to flow,
     an unspecified number hours elapse
     before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh

     revelation transpires
     witnessing, this scruffy, prickly,
     and madly scratching itchy hairs
     dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo

hook huns hitters hymns elf
     tubby a generic home
     er run (hitting) mill
     (on the floss sing false teeth)
     common everyday fluky,
     nippy, nap noopy Joe,
whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea

     (Egg heads, merely
     scrambled random thought fragments
     at that stage) scrunching brow 
     activates laser focus,
     a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate

     formerly barren tabula rasa,
     sans, Lenovo external screen
once again defying (tomb me
     akin to some eternal mystery),
     trucked since time immemorial

     inexplicable, that sudden ignition
     asper cerebral automatic
     catalytic converter kickstarter
     (hmm...perhaps cogs and gears
     housed within medulla oblongata)

     foster fecund fertilization,
     an inexplicable phenomena, 
     I dune hot know
explanation, but upon advent
     whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate

     coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life
     when there appears just the merest hint
     of fledgling wispy notions strive similar
     to sperm cells 
     fervently whipsawing vis a vis,

     via flagellation motility misfits
     and false starts before this crotchety scribe
     mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea
     congeals, expresses, and forms

     grandiose manifest destiny
     mentioned above i.e. Ho
     Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis
     seems like a versatile

     self determining tour de force
     whereat fingers of the lefthand
     move of their own volition spilling forth poe
whet tree once expended leaves (of grass)
     finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull
     tickled pink with a soft after glow.

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