Short Cranium Poems

titanium brow
cranium robotic
a i intellect...

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Brain cells in dead zone
play mind games
outlet to recharge

6-23-18...

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A great bumper sticker I viewed
“Am I driving too close in front of you?”
Sorry my cranium 
Must be Canadian
Our reputation is, we are NEVER rude ...

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Nice - I'm a nerd
Emptiness fills my cranium
Rain springs out of my eyes - blurs my glasses 
DANGER DANGER 
((just give me a second)) I'm sneaky and smart! IN YOUR FACE xDD...

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Ball players have major bald spots
Too large to stop where their cranium stops
Five outta ten 
Gals ten outta ten 
Noggin to their toesies and that is tops...

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Listen up you people to this important news
Might not have heard it, should drink lotsa booze
That way today's news
Will make you snooze
Only thing important, your cranium won't bruise...

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Now I've seen everything, a really strange alien
With four legs, four arms and an overly large cranium
Spoke in broken English
Skin kinda pinkish
Walked with a limp and preferred the subterranean...

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Tab's on the brain
Tab's boss
Tab's for cranium
It's tab's for certain
Tab's for you and your brother
Tab's for me and my sister
Tab's for my new deranged little brother
Tab's and cheer's to you 60 some year's ago
Tab's...

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A bald cranium doesn't excite females generally - however, it just kills lovely maidens normally offended past quotation, realizing somehow that under valued wisdom - xenophilia - yields "zowie" !

5-5-20
Contest: ABC Poetry
Sponsor: Allright Poet...

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Bad blood.

Yes, that's the substance

That appears to be touring amongst us

Stains of a silent vendetta

Howling against my cranium

Classically, such a rhythm dances

With a carelessly, continuous tune

Am I but an indefinite design

In this fearsome game?...

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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.
...

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...inspired by M by Seamus Heaney


Her cranium, its bumps and hollows
cradles secrets stored beneath,
neurons firing, never tiring
of their journeys to belief.

Thin vibrations mold, embolden,
prophecies, cunabula
suffuse the soul, engage the spirit
of the tortured Akhmatova....

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In vacuums
You don't assume
a sonic boom
You stay quiet.

My cranium
echoes a hum
that leaves me numb
to your edit.  

4~12~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Contest Name: DESIDERATA (Number 1)
1…” Remember what peace there may be in silence.”
...

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...inspired by 'M' by Seamus Heaney


The cranium, its bumps and hollows
cradle secrets stored beneath,
neurons firing, never tiring
of their journeys to belief.

Thin vibrations mold, embolden
prophecies, cunabula,
imagine then the soul and spirit
of the wondrous Akhmatova!...

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Sundance kid standing astride the darkened clouds
Freckles palling her lineless face,
She is a hero, in her cranium the goddess bows.
Down on earth she is out of place,
The clouds are standardized above our heads,
You think you feel and love but she 
Will keep smiling
Till your grey in the face....

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...dedicated to the Russian poet Anna Akhmatova.

Her cranium, its bumps and hollows, 
cradles secrets stored beneath, 
neurons firing, never tiring 
of their journeys to belief. 

Thin vibrations mold, embolden, 
prophecies, cunabula 
suffuse the soul, engage the spirit 
of the tortured Akhmatova....

Read More

...dedicated to the Russian poet Anna Akhmatova.

Her cranium, its bumps and hollows, 
cradles secrets stored beneath, 
neurons firing, never tiring 
of their journeys to belief. 

Thin vibrations mold, embolden, 
prophecies, cunabula 
suffuse the soul, engage the spirit 
of the tortured Akhmatova....

Read More

Let’s play charades!
No. Tic tac toe.
No Pictionary!
Okay, time for Cranium Cadoo.

A game that combines logic,
Chardes
Tic tac toe
and Pictionary!

New argument.
I want to be green!
No. I  am green.
I am always green.

The babysitter gives up.
Not realizing when Mom is here 
she is always green...

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Rotting thoughts,
Decaying with a vile stench-
In the corners of his cranium,
He sees,
It means null to win,
On the contrary sir,
You must re-enter society some day,
Wills thrown aside,
He masks himself from all that is rational,
He must ration the air in his lungs,
It quells the blood seeping from every orifice,
When he lies down....

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Into the darkest depths of the mind, I dove down,
Finding fear in the fires that breathe beneath my crown.

In the flames I fought the self that seemed to flicker away,
With each force of focused effort to find what makes me sway.

Inside the delirium of my cranium I screamed from within,
Without my mouth, I was left with only a head and its skin....

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What’s an easy way to get sick?
Too many gas bubbles will do the trick.
It doesn’t bode well for your hide
when you take in too much carbon dioxide.
What happens when you consume excess gas?
That brain in your cranium is most likely to pass.
Inside that small space must not be a lot of room.
That is the reason why you are a soda-guzzling boomboom.
...

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Visions of illustrated forks 
Pointing your direction
To the far away mystic night
Where the werewolves howl
Guiding you to your room
Filled with lights and sorrow
The same fearful sound 
Of clicking, like an unwanted houseguest
Or a stray dog with no name
Piercing the hallow depths 
Of your pitiful imagination 
Let your cranium  run wild
And point you to somewhere new...

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Feature cannot function
Humanity one more level
Yet all is unseen
The problems dwell

Partial gesticulation
Fungi never grow tall
Subjugation kicks in
Avenging the tall

An eye cannot lighten
An ear indifferent to all
A cranium starved of brain
A tongue talks it all

The skin appeals stain
A nose cannot repel
The grime & unclean!
Entire entity just a scandal....

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Drain out the violence from the paintbrush and smear it to the canvas 

Aggressive creatures scuttle into my expanding cranium

Memories of him echoes through the forest…into the atmosphere

Astonishing screams of misfortune filter the forest where he once trailed

Great solitude and rage tortures us all…we will not fall!

Everlasting breakage paints me a portrait of turmoil and what not...

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Einstein’s brain was more complicated than any Swiss army knife.
A pathologist took it from his cranium creating its’ ignominious afterlife.
He confined it in a formalin filled Tupperware tub that stunk
then tooled around America with it in his Buick Skylark trunk.


True story; check out the synopsis of the book (I’ve read it) called “Driving Mr. Albert” by Michael Paterniti on Amazon.com....

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