Short Cerebellum Poems

Are we still evolving
The human experience
Probe my cerebellum...

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the cerebral mist 
mysteriously complex
where the spirit lives

Senryu on Mind Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas
1/28/20...

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A flame containing exponential fervor and luster

scorches a visage through the cerebellum

a scintilla of contact melts the epidermis

utilize every fluid ounce quenching the burning ache...

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My friend is a sesquipedalian
Using words that tax my cerebellum
As her prolific pen flows
My vocabulary grows
But I am not very good at spelling ‘um


(Dedicated to and inspired by Deborah Guzzi.)...

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Nine tabs open, where is the music coming from
My mind's a steel trap, but it's a challenge by gum
Maybe it's the site about Mars
Or some other site quite bazaar
Maybe it's the one that challenges my cerebellum...

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A is an E without the O'w
someday F'ing comes 
others upon G loomy days

  Everything taken but 
the violence of the purple
violent eyes of her
own SCREAMS high heart 
and below oh supreme vowels
of  cerebellum Hamlets

long angelus is silent...

:: 12.21.2021 ::...

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A is an E without the O'w

someday F'ing comes 

others upon G loomy days

  Everything taken but 

the violence of the purple

violent eyes of her

own SCREAMS high heart 

and below oh supreme vowels

of  cerebellum Hamlets

long angelus is silent...

:: 12.21.2021 ::...

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Houston Houston, we have a problem.
                                My wife has created a mayhem
                                    She is stuck in the gullet
                                    It's not my wife,a mullet
                             She has just reached her cerebellum...

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on my brim
dons tangible markings.
Crafted genes engage
to warn iconic
of principled
death.

She measures
her tacky line, loping
anchors across
waxen badges
encrusted with
doubt.

I don’t fear
the web she spins
above my cerebellum
since due warning
of predatory intent
gleans....

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A thought not yet realized 
Unearth, my cerebellum contorted in confusion 
A lack of comprehension 
The heart of iron melted at first hesitation 
Trembling with fear and burdened with disgust 
Feeling unworthy even though the asset has value 
Within a second, the idea evaporated into nothingness...

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Treading along the avenues of iniquity
The downbeat of mollifying choruses alleviate my ears
Ambivalent logic scours my cerebellum
A frown composed of disdain surfaces
Whilst I seek a hero amongst such strange clouds
I covet to taste of the superlative pleasures ‘tis Mother Earth
Though I am left to contemplate when next my happenings...

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THE PARTY

There's a party going on in my subconscious
There's a siesta in my head

if it wasn't for all this excitement
 i might as well be brain dead

There are fireworks in my motor area
New year in my cortex

in my cerebellum it's Christmas
who says all on my brain is sex

Da Predman powriginalpoems2makeu:)
Da Urban poetry collection 2002...

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from the black hole of silent cerebellum
                                drifting sensation adsorbs unseen thoughts
                      with captive consciousness touches the cherishing beauty
                          of the blinking new stars hanging in the carnal abyss 
                          speaks the feeling of enlighten eternity in meditation...

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Our minds are an amazing storehouse
Of vivid impressions since we were born,
     All inside the brain, this vast warehouse
     A perfect reason not to indulge in p**n.
Time may come when someone will read
Our minds, will they be shocked, for sure,
     Especially if they find nothing of rare note
     And a cerebellum filled with manure.

written March 16, 2022...

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My thoughts are dead
Imagination shot
Blackness born within my head
No sense for a plot

Where are the words 
They used to flow
Flutter like birds
Of an ink lathered glow

Sanity stepping so close to the brink
One more inch and tears cascade
My comatose mind cannot think
My pen has decayed

But wait a second an idea just sprouted
My pen's alive and well
Then my cerebellum rerouted
I wad up my paper...I'm back in hell...

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It's like grinding-
Thistle-lips when speaking--
Trying to trample,

'Assumption'

Told us melancholy
With which; I wear
Knives-as-skin.

My Cerebellum-doesn't
Know-how-to
--Connect?

Channeling changes, 
You'd rather see
Becomes me.

I listen sideways; stepping
Speech--
I'd eat bramble branches
For impediments of you.

Screaming red-raw-thorns
As they skewer-
My throat.

I giggle blisters instead....

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