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It is certainly safe, in view of the movement to the right of intellectuals and political thinkers, to pronounce the brain death of socialism.

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The View Of The Beautiful Hill

upon a hill
covered with green grass
a white tower stands
beside it a house with
two big black windows
a red roof
and whitewashed walls
above them are clouds
a comfort of the view
like the wings of
an egg-laying chicken
embracing beauty

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The View From The Top

The view from the top can be oh so very lonely
And you can be missing such a lot that could be yours
Why cant I stop forgetting myself?
Why am I always trying to be like somebody else
Why cant I love you?
Why bother flying high above you
I know where you are
The view from the top can be oh so very lonely
And you can be missin such a lot that could be yours
And whos going to miss me?
Therell only be myself to blame
You know Id love to hold you tight
And love you all the night
But I dont even know ...my name
La la la da la ....
Why cant I stop forgetting myself?
Why am I always trying to be like somebody else?
Why cant I love you?
Why bother flying high above you
I know where you are
The view from the top can be oh so very lonely
And you can be missin such a lot that could be yours

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In View of the Biblical Zoo

Over the tree line towards the valleys end
Abed Abed-Rabbo raises a hand
The farm he surveys, his father's before him
Has been past down for generations in keeping with custom

In view of the Biblical Zoo
A farm of olives trees is a refreshing contrast
Against an imposing backdropp of urban concrete
And an ever expanding city complex

But because of the need for living space
This established ecosystem is being replaced
And Abed Abed-Rabbo is now forced to abdicate
His precious Olive farm, with its one room sleeping cave

Against urban sprawl and concrete walls
Alone one man can not possibly stand
And any amount of compensation cannot match
The resulting environmental impact

Even if it appears we live comfortably
In reality it is, pseudo-security
Without air or water quality
In an ever expanding city

© Calac

Abed Abed-Rabbo – A Palestinian farmer,48, inherited his farm full of olive trees overlooking the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo from his father and his grandfather.
The property in the village of Wallajeh, is situated on the southern edge of Jerusalem.
A decision to annex his farm full of olive trees into the city has been proposed due to the demand for apartment living space

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The brain is a stage for words

words are alive as our grey matter
the brain affords a stage they play out
their full splendour
taking on new clothes, new shades,
little lava morph into butterflies and
flutter their way into our poetic realm

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Dreams of the Brain

The head before sleep over ruled it.
To help the other over come prejudice.
Dreams of the brain make both mutually.
You had exclusive use of the body.
The surface of tension probative it is.
When the lover of one two more come.

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The Brain is a Canvas

the brain is a canvas
everybody can paint on

ideas are colours that
light up humanity's worth

an original mind clears
the monotonous terrains
of like minded brains
casting shadows in between
to spawn an endless
wave of illumination

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Emily Dickinson

The Brain, within its Groove

556

The Brain, within its Groove
Runs evenly—and true—
But let a Splinter swerve—
'Twere easier for You—

To put a Current back—
When Floods have slit the Hills—
And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves—
And trodden out the Mills—

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Anxiety About The Post Death

How your progeny grows and branches
Is beyond your knowledge after death.
How people, loyal to you and to whom
You’d been, are helpful to your children
Also is beyond your comprehension.
How the things you handled, will be handled
By your progeny is a dilemma.
These pains worry you about the death.

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How do I die the unnatural death!

Love me or hate me
I will always be in your mind
Tormenting!

If you want to escape
Never give me a look
Hot or cool!

Hit me or hate me
I will always be in your mind
Haunting!

Just give me the indifference!
How does it strangulate my breath?
And see in your own eyes the difference
How do I die the unnatural death!

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The brain makes you perish.

An autocrat brain works fast,
Senses no danger and sooner
Would perish..
A democrat brain balances
Its move to reactions and soon
Would perish.
A monarch brain stays up,
Earns name and in saving it,
Would perish.
A slavery brain toils,
Lags behind and later
Would perish.

Your brain is the cause
Of your disaster.
25.12.2005

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At The Back Of The Brain.

At the back of the brain a picture lies
Of all we have been and done,
And ever and then a color flames
In the shadow of thought's sun.
At the back of the brain our life-tale's writ
In wondrous words and fine,
And poet and painter but mimic it,
Your life, my friend, and mine.
They are God's spies it may be, yet
They lack the art to limn
The back of the brain of a man that moves
And makes a dream of him.

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Emily Dickinson

This is a Blossom of the Brain

945

This is a Blossom of the Brain
A small—italic Seed
Lodged by Design or Happening
The Spirit fructified—

Shy as the Wind of his Chambers
Swift as a Freshet's Tongue
So of the Flower of the Soul
Its process is unknown.

When it is found, a few rejoice
The Wise convey it Home
Carefully cherishing the spot
If other Flower become.

When it is lost, that Day shall be
The Funeral of God,
Upon his Breast, a closing Soul
The Flower of our Lord.

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Emily Dickinson

The Brain—is wider than the Sky

632

The Brainis wider than the Sky—
For—put them side by side—
The one the other will contain
With ease—and You—beside—

The Brain is deeper than the sea—
For—hold them—Blue to Blue—
The one the other will absorb—
As Sponges—Buckets—do—

The Brain is just the weight of God—
For—Heft them—Pound for Pound—
And they will differ—if they do—
As Syllable from Sound—

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T.N.T For The Brain (Night Girl Remix)

Smell your skin
Feel your breath
You on my side
I couldn't resist
I hope I'll understand some day
What's the meaning of this crazy game
It is real and pure
T.N.T. for the brain
If there's no pain
Rules are still the same
I'm with you, just lead me
I'm ready to play
T.N.T. for the brain
Don't be scared and have no fear
I will show you what it means
If there's no pain
Rules are still the same
I'm with you, just lead me
I'm ready to play
T.N.T. for the brain
What you feel is insane
It is love and not a game
T.N.T. for the brain

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T.n.t. For The Brain

(michael cretu)
.
Smell your skin
Feel your breath
You on my side
I couldn't resist
.
I hope i'll understand some day
What's the meaning of this crazy game
It is real and pure
.
T.n.t. for the brain
.
If there's no pain
Rules are still the same
I'm with you, just lead me
I'm ready to play
.
T.n.t. for the brain
.
Don't be scared and have no fear
I will show you what it means
.
If there's no pain
Rules are still the same
I'm with you, just lead me
I'm ready to play
.
T.n.t. for the brain
.
What you feel is insane
It is love and not a game
T.n.t. for the brain

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William Shakespeare

Sonnet 108: What's in the brain that ink may character

What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what now to register,
That may express my love, or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy, but yet, like prayers divine,
I must each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old—thou mine, I thine—
Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page,
Finding the first conceit of love there bred
Where time and outward form would show it dead.

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Water On The Brain

(hicks / clarke / nash)
Ive just come in from out of the rain
Its wet outside the water runs down a drain
I go to bed cause my heads full of pain
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Outside the window theres a pipe wearing thin
It lets the water do a dance on a tin
I try to sleep but its making a din
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Water on the brain water on the brain
Water on the brain water on the brain
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
I toss and turn and my patience is weak
Go to the bathroom door and I take a peak yeah
The bath tap has started a leak
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild

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The Brain Is A Labryinth Of Lives

the brain is a labryinth of mysteries
large as space for us to criss cross
like a parasite we can make use of a
tiny wee bit corner of it for abundance
how we tap the sun at the edge of universe

the bonus i s we can throw in some figures
to get the confirmation that we are in control
and that it is our best friend when trust
with them is concerned

in the labryinth is a voluntary slave
who let himself be worked but sleeps
the night away at its own fancy

we work it, till it and thought
we own it until we are shakened
in the dead of night when an
an echo from some caves send us
a message with a voice not of our own

the brain is a labryinth of lives
past, present and future,
i am glad i sometimes could find
those i had lost dearly there
and always with tears,

the brain is a labryinth of God
I occupy only a tiny wit bit of it
the sun at the corner of the universe
i wait for Him to light up all the best chambers

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The frozen death in a quiet winter night!

['You can choose to live your life to your own agenda with a sense of personal purpose that gives your life ventures meaning and a feeling of fulfillment_This is called being at cause living from the inside out creating the life and reality you want.']-David R.J.Powell

Skeletal cypress trees mourn
for their offspring
At a stretch sleep the countless fallen leaves,
Quiet the hazy night and a small drizzle
with crispy snow that covers the helpless burial grounds?
I hear their babyish cries but I am voiceless?
I took out my pocket book and the pencil stub
and I address to my poor poet-God!
While a tear dropp hangs in my eye.
For you, I scribble this line Sir!
O I witnessed the frozen death
in this quiet winter night?

for my poet friend Pranab Chakraborty in gratitude!
Who's translated my few poems into his mother tongue Bengali and already published them in his co-editing magazine.

nimal dunuhinga

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Sticking A Needle Into The Brain

Sticking a needle into the brain. Trying find the reason everyone went insane. Going down on a plane in flames. Burning from the insides. Huffing some pesticides. Such a clean ride. Knocking on deaths door. Heavenly denied outright. You will be destroyed. You are a blight. An insect in a world full of killers. Crawling as low as you go. Duck and cover here comes another.All you want is some truths. And they get out the noose. No more questions, no more we said. I will break some bread with the dead. Protecting them long after there gone. Holding on to everything they had before they committed suicide. Never stop looking for reason why. There is no compromise in a corpse eyes. Theirs no disguise. Honest as the sky. So revealing, so soul stealing, forever lost in a moment. So no I won't, I rather be a martyr, then a slave a system that don't listen. Money, honey I'm told as I grow mentally to old to dig for that gold. So I fight it, tooth and nail, bones so brittle, so frail. Its another wound that just wont heal.

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