Frankenstein's Dream Poem by Troy Cochran

Frankenstein's Dream

Rating: 5.0


Me know the names of things,
But not yet the feelings in their beings.

Me know you have to hold a thing,
Like 'child' and 'flower' delicately,
Even in Me crushing power of brain,
Or all feeling in the thing just bleeds away;

But Where it bleeds, now that's the thing
Me can't remember.
These are things the Doctor is remembering,
But he don't condescend to explain a thing
To beasts like Me.

It's for Me to do the reaching, he explain,
So he not train Me too much to understand
The workings of Me own brain
And what it might be think-making.

Me know things like 'leaves' and 'sap' and 'syrup' and 'serum; '
But 'photonic light' and 'nucleic life' and 'the molecular dream, '
Me still is reaching for them with Me brain;
Mostly at night, when Doctor is too busy thinking for himself,
And impressions raining down on Me keep Me wide awake.

'Change' the Doctor sees it; seasons of it.
Me must 'collapse the wave function of probabilities into particle reality.'
And:
'The smaller the particle, the greater the concentration of thought in energy.'
He try to make Me comprehend.

But Me is only thinking 'chains, ' and see no reasons for it.
'Crush' Me understand, and 'waves; ' but 'probabilities'
Too invisible; and 'particles' too small for Me to crush in hand.

'The Laboratory of the Brain' he sees, and cackles when he sees it.
But Me is only seeing 'Laboratory of Pain'
And Me don't want to know it.
Not anymore.

Someday Me will understand.
And then Me kill him.
But today is too much else Me go explore.

Saturday, September 23, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: autumn,halloween,october,science,science fiction,seasons
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
From my chapbook 'October Gallows (and other poems for All Hallows' Eve.' This particular poem, written in 2008, comes with a particularly vivid memory: of bright red words bleeding down the shower walls, due to the steam I was generating. I wrote it while in the shower, with my daughter's bathtub crayons, feeling like the mad Doctor himself, inspired, electrical ~ just not wanting to turn the inspiration off. Thought I would post this for Robert Murray Smith, who knows what it means to be ecstatically possessed with new Creation. I suspect we are not entirely alone in this regard, so it is equally for all you mad scientists out there.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sarah Cochran 15 March 2020

Absolutely a ten

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Sarah Cochran 15 March 2020

That’s a very honest poem.

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Kumarmani Mahakul 23 September 2017

This particular poem, written in 2008, comes with a particularly vivid memory is really very interesting and wonderful idea you have shared through this poem that reflects perception. We are glad to read such a poem penned in 2008 from your chapbook titled, October Gallows. Name of things are known but feelings are still unknown but these remain in memory. Crushing power of brain bleeds all memories. But still we have to hold them like a child holds. Doctor holds this to explain. Molecular dream mesmerizes mind. Leaves' and 'sap' and 'syrup' and 'serum; these come in mind to judge and take on advice of doctor. But 'photonic light' and 'nucleic' life' and 'the molecular dream rush in to life to do more research. Invisible and tiny particles scribble mind. Definitely one day understanding will come. Amazing, powerful and brilliant poem is excellently penned and shared here...10

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Troy Cochran 24 September 2017

Thank you, Kumarmani, ... and I am still researching! Spirituality in the psyche, and how the divine factors into the physics and metaphysics of the body, is a particular fascination for me. But the more I age, the more I see that my intelligence will probably always be tripping over itself. It has a circumscribed view of things. The heart/soul seems to have the better sense of things. :)

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