Short Electrodes Poems
Short Electrodes Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Electrodes by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Electrodes by length and keyword.
Untether my blood, for it is cruel.
Sanity drips from my veins like gruel.
As my web of failure becomes unthreaded.
I feel I am unheaded.
As delusions that are kind take hold.
Not as strong as the electrodes, I am told.
As I find my desperation to escape vanishes.
They set me outside with all the other banishes.
With three arms and three legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes his electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are laughing.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With four arms and four legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes the electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With three arms and four legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes the electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With three arms and three legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes the electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With three arms and three legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes his electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
Program the brain
with positive intervention -
Shock it with poetic
electrodes.
Connect the temples
with godlike influences.
And always remember,
"Sip some poetry soup!"
"Okay?"
- "Okay, then."