Mind: Detached


The moon is bright, the sun is dark,

Dogs meow, cats bark.

My eyes hear, my ears see,

Feeling is smell, taste is sound.


It is my mind that is regurgitating,

Spewing out its thoughts, its neurons.

Memories and gray matter come forth,

Uncontrolled, wildly, vividly, beautifully.


Neural pathways become highways,

Of consciousness, un-conconsciousness.

No stem, no lobe, no right or left brain,

Mixed, stirred it all pours into a river.


My mind is no longer mine,

It is detached, independent, external.

Freely, words form in the ether,

I am watching as my mind works.


Reality is fake, back is front,

North is west, down is sideways.

Inside is upside, before is after,

Beginning and end are now one.


Now watching as my mind takes control,

Seizing the pen from my frozen hand.

Gladly now I see the true author,

Has been released from its prison.

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About John White

I've written off and on my entire life. It took years for me to finally take putting words together seriously. Now it's not, nor does it ever feel, like work. Writing daily has become habitual. No day is complete without words having appeared on the page.

Posted on September 16, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. beautiful and amazing poem – quite inside out – indeed, the dog sees in black and white, the flower in a manner we cannot imagine, the ‘ blind’ snail with its retractable antenna, the bee in multiple images – ad infinitum – varied visions, varied sounds, varied urgings in this wickedly diverse marvellous mystery of reality in illusion – the goddess Maya on her mysterious mission, while the Almighty who created her watches in rapt amusement.

  2. Oh my God , I love it. The opposites and the flow, it really is a beautiful piece

  3. John, made me think… in and out of the ‘pours’, of the river. Thank-you, and for following.

  4. Whirlwind amazing!!!! Your talent bleeds copiously forth from this one!

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