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Poetry competition entry 2017 : Joy in Thoughts Black on White

August 14, 2017

Joy in Thoughts Black On White 

William James saw the mind as a black box.

Mother said my mind was filled with wind socks.

Who was right? Open sesame, knock knock.

 

Oh, look, thoughts black and white

those of certainty posing as right

and those floating around, just might

lack substance in the day, but at night

form shadows, unearthing grave fright.

 

Mind traveller, that’s me in my head campsite

eating brown bread, cheese and marmite

thinking of taking a break. They call it respite.

Curiosity the friend of my head invites

thoughts of joy and understanding, seeing the light

from unravelling synapses for neurons to take flight.

 

I need a break, this is doing in my head home site

making a thought list lacking eloquent bite.

What could I expect from thoughts ghost like,

maybe a big can with words inscribed, dynamite.

Now that would be finite.

 

Mother with her look of frostbite

would put out the fire of my appetite

and suggest I be more polite

with those matches. Made the cat rewrite

the direction it was going. Took to the air like

a kite.

 

William James, philosopher, psychologist, physician

looking in black boxes doing some fishing

would probably agree, something was missing

in my black box of wind socks. He died 1910 reminiscing.

 

© John Priest

 

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