LinkedIn feed writing prompt: remote controlled brains


[The following paragraph showed up in my LinkedIn feed. It has such insidious implications that I thought it could be a great writing prompt. I won’t say much more, as I’d actually like to see your take on it.  Please don’t hesitate to leave your idea(s) in the comments.]

Here it is:

Feeding medicine directly to your brain: Researchers at MIT have developed a hair-thin device that can be implanted deep into people’s brains and distribute medicines via remote control, a potential game-changer for patients suffering from diseases like Parkinson’s or depression. The implants can bypass the blood-brain barrier — which can sometimes block medicines from reaching their intended destination — and limit the potential for undesirable side effects. The researchers aim to connect the implant to medication pumps that will sit beneath a patient’s skin, which can hold more than one kind of medicine and be refilled with a simple injection. • Share your thoughts: #DrugDeliveryBrain



The water builds at the faucet’s mouth

Building until gravity claims the drop

You’re birthday just passed

You’re deathday about a week away

Two years gone in the blink of an eye

An eye blinking away the welling tears

Random stomach pains

Thoughts of a friend’s cancer battle

My son’s food allergy diagnosis

His life constrained

I’m gonna watch the sequel

To the first movie you took me to

I think you’ll be there

Not some ghost on the loveseat

But genetic memory and eternalism

When I was a kid my mom said I sit like you

Before I even had memories of you

A ray with a single point labeled ABC

A = past, B = present, C = future

The ray is the illusion of moving forward

Through time

So you’ll watch the movie too

At the same time you cry at birth

Clutch at your chest in the bathroom

I feel a weird pain in my stomach

My son scratches his food allergy eczema

I pour your ashes at your favorite park

My son looks like you/me

He does something that reminds me of you

From memories in his marrow

The water droplet hits the sink’s drain

Sun chokes the atmosphere

Lulia Halatz paint an impressionistic pictures with tones not yet named, in her Poem “Sun chokes the atmosphere”

Blog de companie

Sun chokes the atmosphere
Moon dies and takes
the truth and breath of you
Stars inscribe the sky
and determine
who’s alive…
What are your dreams?
Ask your heart
and put an old wish
to the slaughter.

Wild is the conspicuous green grass
that tells itself
to reach the stardust smell of spring.
Old is the key
that keeps away the chains
and charms unfathomed
to open a new gate
As you wear another’s
beating heart
melting in
and dripping of blue lust
Not knowing when
to destroy the dark
and say:
I am saving the meat
of my dreams for you!

Art by Konstantin Koborov.

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Two by Two- Daffni Gingerich

Daffni Gingerich’s “Two by Two” at Sudden Denouement is a wonderfully insightful look at the writer/artist/lover’s journey.

Sudden Denouement Collective

I remember the day I closed my eyes and there he was, coaxing me out of my shell. He had already created a place for me. I guess it all could’ve been a trap but either way it pulled me in in a way I would be set free from my past and locked into infinity. And every day is a reminder that I’m ok. I scream and claw and remove the skin from beneath my nails. But life can’t stop there. It won’t, and when the show goes on, I’m more learned and possess a trust in myself that helps me endure. When I inhale, evil spirits come along with the good ones and I sift through them like a collection of pearls before I cast them back into my writing. Except when I’m drunk, that’s when I grab the first and act on it passionately with little thought. Every…

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Fragility- Introducing Liz McLeod

Introducing Liz McLeod at Sudden Denouement. “Fragility” has a beautiful message that is anything but.

Sudden Denouement Collective

Fragile egos,
Crushed like eggshells
Dropped on the floor,
Spilling their insides.

A simple challenge,
A contrary word
Meant for discussion,
Or clarification.

Instead it is viewed
As a knock to the expert,
A refusal to submit
On terms they require.

This is not equality.
This isn’t understanding.
This is a simple wish
To bend another to your will.

Willow-strong, pliant
I will bend to a point.
But then I bounce back
To continue my growth.

Why is every question
Such a threat to so many?
Why is there only
The expectation of bowing?

Are we always so fragile,
We can’t accept and relish
Being pushed and nudged,
With another’s experiences?

I can sit on the floor
At another’s feet, if and only if,
My past is acknowledged,
As it can only reflect on my future.

I am human, humans learn.
My learning has been fraught
With challenges, frustrations, loss.

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HOLLYWOOD HIGH – Collaboration – A.G. Diedericks & Samantha Lucero

This collaboration is beautifully relentless in its cleaving towards the marrow of our zeitgeist. Read A.G. Diedericks & Samantha Lucero’s “HOLLYWOOD HIGH”

Sudden Denouement Collective

Heathers and jocks, flock together
You and I tethered to Glocks & black
Clocks broken, shot
into a myopic future
We meditate on bloodlust
of a murdered adolescent reverie,
besotted with living forever
The colour of Mondays changed
when I tasted the insidious guile on
your lips; glossed in Carrie-red
you needn’t incentivize this perilous
heart of mine
for you I would cut off my misanthropic
and illuminate the dark matter
’cause all that I bleed
is you

coiling in a house where hymns burn
damp or dirt, or fire walk with me.
daddy is a watershed in dallas, mommy
is a wire hanger bent out of shape.
the world is an open wound,
and i am the trace.
you are the knife and the wail.
the wide awake.
the boulevards red myths, sight and
names in squirming lights, and seeds
on the flashing ground.

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Hipster Fucks

“Hipster Fucks,” by S.K. At myredabyss takes anxiety, stream of consciousness, and relationships and captivates.

Author S. K. Nicholas


Crisp sandwiches on a blanket by the sea with tiny dinosaurs pecking at our feet before they fly away in the breeze never to be seen again. Blue waves and a blue sky and your smile so sepia and golden and a part of who I am despite wanting to cut you out of my life so many times because you mess my shit up and such shit does me no good at all. Those birds. This day. The music you listen to on your headphones, and the dirt I rub between my thumb and forefinger trying to imagine how cold it is where the Titanic’s at. The pressure would pop my head in an instant, that’s for sure. Reminds me of what I was told in school as a kid, that’s if Earth were to be sucked into a black hole, it would end up being crushed to the…

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There should be a religion that uses this poem as their Our Father! “Judgement,” by Oldepunk at ramjetpoetry.

RamJet Poetry


Be home before dawn, she said

but she forgets my insolence

plastered upon my skin

like moisture in monsoon

I glide, purposeful

waking in my wake

the aspirations of the none

with quiet spells of assumption

forging disillusion for the prideful

the gifts I bring are a curse you know

I pull the winners into the lands

of the sorrowed

culling the shameful with frost

and fears of tomorrow

I am that which you seek

and fail to find

I wield the might which you wish

to bring against the walls

of your enemies

As I dance over the winded nights

and into your dreams I send

my frights.

I am the lost and stolen

they seek revenge for all

the petty insults and minor injustices

you have wrought

She knows that I seek mischief

and at times she takes what I give away

for that is her way, to…

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I lost a couple friends to Suicide, so braveandreckless’ “Unwritten,” resonates deeply.

Brave & Reckless

Thinking today of Chester Bennington and Chris Cornell and Robin Williams and all of those whose lives have been lost to depression and suicide but did not make the headlines or the social media news feeds.   I have walked in your shoes.  I have put my leg over the bridge, stood at the open 13th  story window and considered walking out, have thought I was nothing, thought that others would be better off without me.  Those are the lies depression tells us.  You mattered.  You are missed.

Inspired by Phases  by Kevin Kantor & Sienna Burnett

the suicide note

she did not leave

left a faint  imprint

on the wooden table

where they would sit and talk

over cups…

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