Poetry – My pink blancmange

My pink blancmange

I have a pink blancmange throbbing with electricity

That dispenses magic just for me.

It opens doors to other worlds

And provides me with a time machine;

Into the future – the depths of space,

The whole of the universe is seen.

My pink blancmange is a very special part of me

Connected to my optic apparatus it enables me to see.

It also connects to sound and touch,

And enables me to think.

Without its wondrous magic

I could not even feed or drink.

How it works is a complete mystery,

For it contains the essence that is me.

It has billions of cells

And trillions of routes

Like a super computer

It organically computes.

Somehow my pink blancmange creates my world,

Within it, my consciousness is unfurled.

Images in my mind –

Creating a universe from what I see.

But I have to question –

Is it really reality?

Is my pink blancmange making it up?

Is it really just running amok?

What I take to be real

Might be nothing more than a figment

Of a bored blancmange

Wanting to add colourful pigment.

Opher – 21.10.2019

We know our brains – a soft and gooey pink blancmange of cells and circuits suffused with electricity – makes an awful lot up. Perhaps it makes it all up?

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