'Our Brain'

Our brain sang in the rain,

       on rooftops, 

               on boxcars,

And our brain basked in harvests

Of Brueghel’s, 

   Durer’s, 

      Millet’s, 

         Hiroshage’s

As Beacons' evolution 

Turned to purples, chartreuses, 

Of thunders, lightning, and crows

Crackling from Van Gogh to Cezanne

And Matisse became O'Keefe and Kahlo

And Pollock and Prancer and Styll,

On Basquiat, on Schnabel, too.

Our brain knew no bounds or separation from the sky.

              Our brain is not Bill Gates'

              Our brain      Our brain

 

Our brain assumed characters

Fertile as fancies of collective and individual genius.

Our brain leaps like ballet,

Stalks long-nosed on stages,

Springs stars-ward and flip-flip-flips across floors.

Our brain is striped orange and silver

With cosmic dust and Funk on beat-boxes and subway-cars ...

Just like--just like the eternal evanescence and recurrence

Of our gleaming i'ma--ee'ma--ah-imaginations

Beneath Moon's haunting and inspiring eye.

              Our brain is not the I.M.F., or B.I.S., or W.E.F.

              Our brain       Our brain 

 

Our brain delights in ambiguities plus,

Such as served by heroines

Of George Eliot and Virginia Woolf,

William Wyler and Willa Cather,

Tennessee, Bahia, and Erykah Badu,

Laura, Joni, Patti, ... 

Colors grounded and surprising

As private hearts may fiercely feather dreams.

              Our brain interprets shades beyond rainbows

              Our brain      Our brain

 

Our brain is God

By any guise or name 

That we may know.

Atman       Brahmin,

Buddha     Xango,

Rama         Krisna,

Erzulie       Pan,

Muhammad      Jah Jah-Jah Jah-Jah--Jah-Jah-Jah

Jehovah    Light

And none of these manifestations can be held

Within Church or algorhythm.

             Our brain is not gold or Building

             Our brain      Our brain

 

Our brain not made for chipping.

Our brain not made for clipping.

Our brain not made for prison.

Our brain celebrates freedoms!

Our brain pities the poor immigrant,

Swings to awe above Squares

From gargoyles and angels,

Fights like parents for land and school 

So that their children, our children,

May surely amaze our futures.

Our brain not here for shots and Dot Tattoos and Hydrogel

Inserts to make us 'happy' with 'nothing.'

Our brain is not to be owned

By any puerile, Beezle-boobian, Luciferian 666 Patents.

Our brain is here

For and from Millenia behind and ahead

Of each of our shining choices and destinies.

              Our brain is not Great Resetters'

              Our brain is no Order but Gods' wonders

              Our brain here for Glories

              Our brain writes, paints and discovers

              Our unending stories

              Our brain       Our brain.

 

 

DON PAUL, June 5, 2021

from first writing for the WRZD's and Lyrical Larry Gardner's 

Poetry Slam Show April 27, 2021.