The brain limps insulated
from outside reality
living in a mind of its own
sometimes the real self
will flare down in a puff
dreading ones own reality
Disparaging the brain to
imagine that it is not so
where things stand.
The real self feels
restless to be free
confusing the mind of the
agonizing brain to translate
reality into a mirage of confusion
Masking the mind to
answer the question; Who am I?
It is not so much as
it is seen; it is is only much
that is not at all.
It is all attraction with much
distraction with only fixation
on the mighty My
The steak no one notices;
it is the sizzle that counts!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem