Knowledge.

Knowledge.

A Poem by Phillip Brown

When I was at school, I knew too much.

I was born with a memory of things that may never have happened.

Later on I forgot a bunch of stuff: -

I rejected a large part of my knowledge.

Because it was unthinkable �"

You could NOT think about it or else you’d go crazy.

So, I left it behind.


The first time I moved, I left it behind.

I slept a whole lot better for a while.

Until I grew old and started to have nightmares.

© 2022 Phillip Brown


Author's Note

Phillip Brown
shoot.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

It's always interesting to get a glimpse inside someone else's head. Of course we never really know how others think. In my case I developed symptoms of bipolar in my forties and that mental adventure was both scary and fascinating. You hint at things in your poem but without any detail. It would be fascinating to know what part of your knowledge was unthinkable a he then did it relate to the nightmares. Quite a few of my earlier writing was done in a manic state - e.g. Manicarus
Well done for sharing this personal account.I
All the best,
Alan



Posted 4 Weeks Ago


Well, this is a kick in the britches! Love the metaphors. They are metaphors, Right? :)

Posted 4 Weeks Ago


That was a powerful line ... I rejected a large part of my knowledge. We move about in our brains. Walking paths once, never to return. Some lead us in circles. Some paths lead to dreams that end in nightmares. Others dead ends. Thoughts to ponder, thanks for that.

Welcome to the cafe!

Posted 1 Month Ago


such a strong expression and over time through such brevity.

Posted 1 Month Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

58 Views
4 Reviews
Added on April 26, 2022
Last Updated on April 26, 2022

Author

Phillip Brown
Phillip Brown

Natchitoches, LA



About
i started writing poems last August. Before that I'd written songs and Travel films. more..

Writing
April April

A Poem by Phillip Brown