Short Cerebral Poems
Short Cerebral Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cerebral by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cerebral by length and keyword.
Insanity triggers
Cerebral trip switch
Flickering light
Dissolving
In dark room
Walls collapsing
Silence ensues
the cerebral mist
mysteriously complex
where the spirit lives
Senryu on Mind Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas
1/28/20
This Poetry bleeds from my brain
('Tis only a scratch; no more the worse)
And I write, just to ease the pain
(My Mind: it aches; it burns; it hurts)
Quiesance
Quiesant passion
love me lazily
Earth love.
Quiesant fear
love me hauntingly
Cerebral love.
Need you I God
God I need you
Earth and Universe
Speak of love.
convolutions
of cerebral gymnastics
entangled musings
AP: 2nd place 2025
Submitted on March 7, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (MAR 9) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
A Wanderlust Cerebral
A circuit 'round a star
Home of the "Ever Homeless"
Whom else could care to own less
A course that's never ended
of spirit-bliss unbarred
.
I saw a little spook fumbling for my key
"Oh Oh what a damn clumsy job it must be"
He showed me his creepy rear
And cerebral hemisphere
" Pinch pennies" that he said, and began to pee.
My cerebral cortex -
indeed, you are the vortex,
processing my senses,
the place where joy condenses.
It's to you I owe
every pretty sky,
each note that makes me sigh,
and grandma's apple pie.
Please don't ever go.
Whatever is in your cranium can be swept away with a broom.
For a larger cerebral cortex, there is apparently no room.
Since you came into the world, you have been like a mushroom.
That is why since your birth, you have been a boomboom.
I salute and extol as we should super brain Albert Einstein,
whose cerebral prowess an ultimate flowering vine,
of quirks he had many consult the sticking tongue picture,
he tired of that smile so inane as a permanent stricture.
I miss the likes of you
good times together
academic gymnastics
intellectual escapades
cerebral adventures
spiritual experiments
I miss the likes of you
missing most
that I never ever
ever found any other
the likes of you
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
We're all God's children,
To do with being human,
Some souls of souls we've got,
If you believe it or not,
Creating in our cerebral cortex,
It's tough humans made this vortex,
Why do we think we're King Rex,
Suppose it's because we're human,
We're all God's children......
Sharpen those swords
of cerebral wit
Thrust deep for just the right word
Great writing's never blurred
There's a metaphor awaits you
the only one that'll ever do
To probe and pierce the minds
with whom you ~ connections find
I often wake up tired
Too much cerebral housecleaning
Dusting, filing, musing
Feeding the demons
They are less likely to act up
If they are nurtured
Recognized for what they are
I no longer fear them
But they must be kept
Cowering in the dark
Waiting for me
To tuck them in
Nostalgia hides within the hopes
Of the present
Sours as it passes
Tucks itself into cerebral
Alleyways
Lingers in fitful dreams
Grows as it ripens
Ignites the trembling torch of
Ageing's adolescence
12/1/2020
Any New Acrostic About Nostalgia Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier - Sponsor
Though each mind is a jungle of thoughts,
It’s a sanctuary where ideas are sought.
Fertile tender brains go haywire,
With negative creativity the media conspires.
Navigating today’s youth is a terrain to conquer,
Rampant malicious acts uncover the dysfunctionality that prospers.
Tragedy in Black
Come,
Feel it.
Can you sense
Human unrest?
Perhaps jealousy
Creates blurred perception,
Brings unhealthy obsession~
Impairs cerebral functioning
Isolates one and carves out a void.
Trapped in shadows purple black tones avail.
Sunshine williams
8/27/2015
Patrick lives in Edinburgh, Scotland,
Plays boccia and has Cerebral Palsy,
Which very slowly turned his hand,
Until he started to win intelligently.
The Scottish Championships gave,
An arena for him to prove and shine,
Such that he took the silver stave,
At the 2014 Worlds in China land fine.
in the valley of the moon...it drifts
light and white, a dense fog
waiting for closed eyes and unguarded thought
images impale cerebral hemispheres
whimsically it dallies, a shadow on dark walls
flashes of color play on the backdrop of dreams
while softly it whispers a lullaby
a sweet dream comes
My heart has accepted every piece of furniture
you have brought in and hoarded, polished and stored,
for show or hidden in the attic of cerebral storage.
Cobwebs draped the entrances I walked through
without wincing, chasing extinguishing light…
gold tarnishing possibilities that I found invaluable.
Time that memories have not erased, sad and stuck in the cerebral
Everlasting stains like the blood one sheds on a cross from a crucifixation
Agitated at the family, friends and lovers that leave
Renegade on emotions water for the rage to calm the flame
Serenade the ground with a lonely girls tune
What's that I hear -
could it be a spider in my ear?
To some, it might inspire fear,
but that response is too severe -
he'll soon disappear,
crawling into my waiting brain,
if only to escape the rain.
I'm glad I left him alive, unslain,
as he inspired this poem, insane.
Spider - come visiting again.
Always drawn to stronger women,
in a cerebral kind of way
He missed the charm of a softer maiden,
the joy her flowers splayed
He married a woman just like him,
who made life a living hell
To die while dreaming of that one sweet lass,
her heart—his wishing well
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
Scouring cerebral rooms.
Lost in the hallways of feeling.
Locked in emotional tombs.
Each key now revealing..
A door behind a door.
A mansion in my mind.
Apathetic drive carpeted floor.
Blue prints undefined.
Eclectic paintings hang.
Crooked on walls of peeling plaster.
Then my door bell rang.
Welcome to my mental disaster.
STOP!!!!
The person at this address has moved
He went to find his mind
it left a while ago
For a year he's been fumbling around
aimlessly without a brain
bumping into walls and stubbing his toe
walking blindly through cities with nowhere to go
Now he's left,
in search of cerebral peace
I'll let you know if he finds it.