Array ( [sid] => 180478 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Our Meager 10% [time] => 2015-02-07 20:27:58 [hometext] => It irks me we think 10% brain use is sufficient [bodytext] =>


I feel like Neo tonight;
My meager 10% of cranial employment well spent;
suffice I see the light
as white coated 11 percenters argue over the dormant 9/10ths left;
we're smoke, an expired dandelion, yet still our intellect attaches
to our bodies-
a miracle given 90% of our grey matter idles unemployed-
One of ten laps run, our hubris claims (evolutionarily) we're done!
(ten cookies in the jar, one eaten,
“Yummy, No, just one! No time for the other nine-
just this one is more than fine”)
Holding fast
(“How I hold thee, rope of logic”, science worshipers cry at night)

Lab coats swirling much as Rumi in the firelight would.....
in Bizzaro-world,
“We are the final outcome! The genetic flag now full unfurled!”)-

Wow! The zenith of one cell- and all between....to US!
In our wisdom, resting well on this grand 10% synaptic success,
we declare (in our evolving sentience)
Man is the final product-
put away the lab coats, ya'll...
Science has picked up (Shh..don' tell, they've dropped)
the ball.
[comments] => 6 [counter] => 231 [topic] => 14 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DreamsandWishes ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Our Meager 10%


Our Meager 10%
Date: Saturday, 7th February 2015 @ 08:27:58 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: invierno



I feel like Neo tonight;
My meager 10% of cranial employment well spent;
suffice I see the light
as white coated 11 percenters argue over the dormant 9/10ths left;
we're smoke, an expired dandelion, yet still our intellect attaches
to our bodies-
a miracle given 90% of our grey matter idles unemployed-
One of ten laps run, our hubris claims (evolutionarily) we're done!
(ten cookies in the jar, one eaten,
“Yummy, No, just one! No time for the other nine-
just this one is more than fine”)
Holding fast
(“How I hold thee, rope of logic”, science worshipers cry at night)

Lab coats swirling much as Rumi in the firelight would.....
in Bizzaro-world,
“We are the final outcome! The genetic flag now full unfurled!”)-

Wow! The zenith of one cell- and all between....to US!
In our wisdom, resting well on this grand 10% synaptic success,
we declare (in our evolving sentience)
Man is the final product-
put away the lab coats, ya'll...
Science has picked up (Shh..don' tell, they've dropped)
the ball.


This poem is Copyright © invierno


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