No sign of mind

[richthehat]

No sign of mind

My brain doesn’t work so good any more
I’ve forgetted all maths, and my English is pour
When I try to read books, my nose bleeds on the floor
My brain doesn’t work so good any more.

My brain int as fast as what it should be
I got mainly b’s In my gcse’s
But when I dot to dot I need nearly 3 weeks
My brain int as fast as what it should be.

My brain is all battered, that cord bit is ripped
I’ve lost all emotion, so I just look at tits
When I speak to real people I start having fits
My brain is all battered that cord bit is ripped.

My brain switches off at inappropriate……….times
I know that I think that I thought I was fine
I went out for a drive, several pensioners died
My brain switches off at inappropriate times.

My brain fluid’s drained I think there’s a leak
I used to stand up and do elegunt speaks
If I stand up today blood rolls down my cheeks
My brain fluid’s drained I think there’s a leak.

My brain is offline it needs a rewire
I was always encouraged to set the bar higher
But last week I burnt off my face on the fire
My brain is offline it needs a rewire.

So my tele’s been chucked, and my brain’s feeling better
I’ve nearly remembered alphabetical letters
I can tie my own laces and put on a sweater
My tele’s been chucked and my brain’s feeling better.

I’ve jacked in jacking up, and my brain’s feeling well
I’m leaving behind my paranoid hell
The men in my head I’m a bit scared to tell
I’ve jacked in jacking up and my brains feeling well.

I’ve stopped all the pills and my brain is elated
The joint of my jaw has been relocated
My mind and my mouth are becoming acquainted
I’ve stopped all the pills and my brain is elated.

I’ve given up drinking and my brain’s feeling great
I’ve joined a poetry society and made loads of new mates
We often sit round and have pretentious debates
I’ve given up drinking and my brains feeling great.

I’ve packed in the fags and my brains getting air
The extra oxygen is stopping me swear
My circle of friends is more debonair
I’ve packed in the fags and my brains getting air.

I’m free from it all and my brain’s feeling clean
It’s a practical, numerical, analytical machine
But the point of it all remains to be seen
I’m bored out me brain, pass the fuckin morphine.

[billy]

i really don't want to check the meter on this. i just likes it

while i'm glad you post in the novice forum. you should try a post or two in mild or serious critique
the eighth and ninth verse are the most significant as they tell it all. it's a very clever poem and in the beginning a sad as well as funny one. the last verse feels blaze but it works, it feels truthful and funny. when i first looked at it i thought 'god, a long poem' but when reading it i was enjoying myself.

remember my first line, well i did check the meter and it would improve the poem if you had some sort of constant with it.
as far as originality, image and humour go, it's out of the park

thanks for the read.....don't forget to leave some feedback elsewhere rich, they're all feedback junkies here in need of a fix

[addy]

This was a very, very enjoyable read. It wouldn't take much to fix the meter either. i agree that you might also like to try venturing to the more advanced critique forums... it could get nitpicky, but the more specific feedback you'll get would be very useful.

[billy]

i moved the poem here so as to not dilute any feedback

[Fargoer]

What a delightful piece. From the beginning you really can't tell how the poem forms out and the meter variations and "errors" seem almost deliberate.

When you look at it, it feels very long, but when you read it, it's an enjoyable ride all the way. Good work.

[Keith]

Read this like a train. Once I new you were getting better I started to skip the repeat but only because I wanted to understand the end, Loved it.

[Kynaston Levitt]

This is brilliant. Where are all you old fuckers from 2012 to liven these stiffs up a bit.

Also noticed the rules for critique weren't as draconian back then.