Best Antidepressants Poems


Wolfman

It's full moon
and he is feeling tense
angry
hopeless
and desperate
taking antidepressants
by fists
talking to his
psychiatrist
yelling to his 
little kids
to his wife
and to the police
spending the weekend
in jail
howling 
like a wounded beast...

pray
for this
poor Wolfman
born with shackles
on hands...

Premium Member National Poetry Month

Words Used 
Ghost, Heart. (Nouns)
Shiver, Deliver, (Verb)
Wicked, Viscous, (adjectives)

I had a friend- jovial and sweet, in my college days.
The same room, we had shared at the hostel.
I noticed, by and by, she was losing her sprightliness.
Had no clue, what upsetting thoughts nagged her HEART.

One night, she woke up screaming- “GHOST, Ghost”
Looking delirious she said petrified, a ghost was at the window.
I brushed it aside, thinking she had seen a nightmare.
But her erratic behaviour continued, often acting bizarre.

Slowly, she seemed to have slipped into a spell of silence.
There was always a look of horror in her eyes.
She was no more the cheery girl of the past.
Into a world of spectral shadows, she seemed to have sunk.

If ever I woke up from my sleep, I saw her wide eyed,
Gazing into the air, as if seeing something horrifying.
Once, she said, she saw a skeleton dangling on a VISCOUS spider net.
Often, she was seen SHIVERING and stopped behaving normal.

So upset, I wished to DELIVER her of her mournful plight,
Her parents were informed who took her to a doctor.
Under examination, she was diagnosed with Schizophrenia,
Characterized by hallucinations of WICKED spirits, haunting her.
       
         *        *         *          *          *           *         *

When memories come surfing, still my heart goes out to her
Who fell into the abysmal depths of delusion and frightful fantasy.
Will antidepressants work on her? Will she ever become whole again?
Or will the dark demons continue to haunt her, day and night?

Old Glory

antidepressants
  slow the evisceration
    dulling guilt's knife edge
Jim was from Tuscaloosa
    His remains flew home last year

professors applaud
  sneering ripped knee pants coeds
    stomp on old Glory
      old vet asks for respect, no
deep breath, count to ten, unclench

Homicide bomber
  seventy-two virgin quest
paradise, no doubt
Jim shielded a boy
  Bomber in my AR’s sights
    too slow, all sorts of fragments

We have done our job
  And perhaps a bit too well
Our price tag hidden
The wolves half a world away
  Panting in my ears, not yours

5/30/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Form: Tanka


A Woman Who Battles With Depression -Part 1-

I was trapped,
Trapped within my conscience, trapped within my own mind,
My thoughts were just devouring me
My thoughts had gotten control over who I had become
But what had I become? A depressed young woman who might go bipolar,
Living from day to day; gobbling down antidepressants as if my life depended on it?
Maybe it did,
I mean… I was just a kid,
From a dysfunctional family caught within dysfunctional friendships…
Caught within love?
That word I knew nothing about… I was far too young to understand,
Eventually got caught in… can I say dysfunctional love?
(Fake laughs then sighs) 
Maybe if I didn’t depend on you so much then I wouldn’t be this messed up 
Vulnerable and young was the best target for you I guess,
Leaving a girl with so much potential in so much mess…
I was strong maybe too strong for my age a mystery trying to figure out one of my own…
My life.
Maybe if I didn’t think so much I wouldn’t have gotten to this point maybe if I didn’t let my thoughts swallow me maybe if I didn’t let razors control me maybe… if I didn’t let u enter to break me…
(Takes in a deep breath and relaxes)
Physically… spiritually… mentally…
YOU BROKE ME




(Hey loves, yes all my poems are based on trues stories... real life situations not necessarily me and no i don't mention names in my poems if i do then the names are fictional).
P.S. I might add part two to this or just have it as a whole different poem.
Love you guys don't forget to like, share and comment

Blue Day

I woke up this morning rolled over in bed
It was the weekend by the way
I knew right off by the mood I was in 
That this would be a blue day

The sun was shinning cheerily
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky
Why I was grumpy, I’ll never know
I will never know just why

When the day is blue, I’m not talking about the color
But the mood that I’m in instead
There is no food that will comfort me
When I get up this way out of bed

 I was having a good hair day my teeth seemed extra white
But I thought I looked like a big blob
I got even grumpier when I was by myself
After my husband left for his job

I hate having days that are like this
The days that are oh so blue
I’m mean to myself and everyone else
Antidepressants are way past due!
Form:

Sir Floccinaucinihilipilification

Don of Trivia Sir Floccinaucinihilipilification
                    Popped forty triangular antidepressants for annihilation
                                       But Coagulable antibodies
                                  Made his two Trypophobia toadies
                 To bounce the castle of Tuffrut in choreomaniac titillation
Form: Limerick


Better Years

The night was lonely when my pills called for me. Stock piling them, not knowing if they’ll ever be used. I told myself I’d take them if life still didn’t get better. So down they went, at least a couple hundred. I didn’t die, but I caused a lot of pain for friends, family, and my lungs, man. 

The ablulance took me to the emergency room in my town. There aren’t enough recourses to save a stupid suicidal teen, so they sent me hours away in a helicopter.  The last thing I remember was going to sleep. When I woke up I had tubes in my throat and doctors and nurse telling me to cough so the pills would pump out of my body. How can you cough with a tube in your throat though?

A day later, I was sent to a mental hospital where things only plummeted even more. There were about twenty people there, but I only made friends with two. Eventually more came and I had new friends for a few days. They had therapy dogs to help us psychos feel a little better until you’d go to art and be criticized by staff and become more suicidal. yay!

I was put on antidepressants which made my bipolar disorder peak. They eventually made me lose 80 percent of my memory, so your girl stopped taking them. 

Then I got better. Believe me, I too, was an “it never gets better” person. I still was for months after leaving that mental hospital because the experience was so bad, but if you focus on the negative, how can you get better. My old cringy poems from years ago are a great example of how I thought things would suck for ever. 

Now, it’s been a bit over a year, and my perspective on life has changed. No longer am I a pessimistic angry teen who hates everyone. I found little things to hold on to so I hade a “purpose” until bigger things that gave me a bigger purpose came along. I wish any who has “it will never get better” ingrained in their head will find a way to make it bearable for them to keep pushing until they realize things do get better. 

If I would’ve died, I would’ve lost so much that I didn’t even know I’d gain.

Premium Member Change: a Collaboration With Tanis Troutman

Form: Monorhyme
Indigos, light workers, empaths are hear
Struggling to change the errors of yesteryear

Power, money, corruption and greed
Will no longer be the motive that leads

The 60's, the freedom, they tried with defiance
The ones in power had them silenced

Like darwins theory of evolution
We are born for the revolution

There is too much pain in the world we've created
The ones who have tried have been banished and sedated

With antidepressants, Ritalin and crack
A lot of the indigos have been held back

This change will come, but take many a year
When it is over, they'll be no more fear

Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
Vanaheim be the gate ye see elated
Bravery and courage is what did appear

Appearance just like that one of Paul Revere
Remember now what he had advocated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere

First of course he was moving in high gear
Gravity of mission not understated
Streaking across the western hemisphere

His words could be heard cyrstal clear
It's time for you to be all federated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere

His words ran faster than speed of a light year
Ringing that all had become emancipated
So, to all take your own regins to commandeer

Just go tell fear to get the heck out of here
Cause now you know, I am associated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
Now you can continue to fly down the track

Flame Thrower

Speechless
Unstable
so now I'm off popping more antidepressants
after jonesing for the truth
so glad someone
anyone could offer me reality
that I'm truly
seriously
deluded and misunderstood
and now i know there is nothing i can say

Oh sinead
what does the con man sing to the bones of metaphors in the soup fiasco
about belligerence and brutality and psychological abuse
is it me
is it me can anyone here this plea
The pearls Jam the gates
oh my king throwing flames from his mouth
what can i say what can i say to Jeremy when he speaks in class?
i have no comment just the delusion
i am unstable
but intoxication of another
love note from you and broken homes is all i really need to spoil my therapy

Fred is Limp
The bizkit has me in a Full nelson
and if you listen closely to the words of wisdom to the new aged nuns of wood 
stock 98
you will see the revolution spinning full blast
but the hippies are Jonesing flamethrower
the wars of winters are cold and frozen
take this Will I Am
and realize the place inside the fire
is something 
something for you
for my rights in my living room
and the king i am 
of plajerised words and themes

I am no saint so whats my name
and isn't it sad to know life is more than who we are and know
oh flame thrower
i don't know what to say
but hush your temper tantrum and pay attention for this Will I Am
finds That Mr Jones
has inspired me to say
steal the rythym while you can
and i know the pieces fit
so enjoy the schism
and flame thrower
everyone knows i am the liar
ask Mrs O'connor
ask Mr Durst
ask wuts under rug swept and rediscover
the place within the fire

Letters In Red

A dying woman's suicide note. 

While writing,
I am trying to find a reason to live.
Amidst this chaos of heartbreaks, 
A coward have I become!

I have forgotten how sweet 
The bell of hope rings; 
When the finger of God has already
Inscribed 'DOOM' on the walls of my life.

That garden of life which used to blossom;
The roses changed to thorns and 
The stars we used to gaze at, sky high;
Have turned into stones.

Maybe I became insensitive to pain, 
I do not remember how it feels to bleed; 
But I can feel life bleeding out of me, 
This blood—the only sign that I lived! 

I lived dining on antidepressants because 
My pain could not possibly be remedied
By the contents found in a first aid kit. 
I loved! 

I loved you more than life
Because you were a mother's prayer
For a father's protection being answered; 
I dreamt! 

I dreamt you would be my reason:
My reason to live on
In the face of tragedy; 
I believed! 

I believed pain would come and go,
Like the night turns into day—seasons. 
If only I lasted longer; 
But so would the pain—IF!... 

I became a piece of TNT lit on both ends, 
And blowing up was eventual.
I can feel that flame of life dying 
And the gates of hell calling! 

Calling. Calling. Calling. 
The grim reaper knocks at my door, 
Ready to collect my soul—
I called him. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 
My savior, my salvation?!
The world would be better without me, 
What of you my child? 

Remember. Remember. Remember. 
I gave you life, 
And for you I will lose mine
But not because of you. 

Live on? 
I would say, 
But I still want to be a good mother. Yes! 
Even in death! 

My baby, my joy. 
For you I will live
But the blood on this paper 
Tells me my hour has come. 

Happy to be going, 
But sad to be leaving you behind am I. 
Darkness is blackening my sky, 
A deep sleep imminent—death! 

I can already see a vision of me. 
I am looking down from a place above
For my sorrows are compensated; 
Death loves the troubled!

Death whispers in my ear, 
His words sound like a soft crescendo 
Of a comforting lullaby.
His song is my farewell... 

Written in blood, 
Every letter red.
At the very least, 
I died smiling!...

Fancy Dress Party

All the best costumes are taken.

So here I am,

dressed up like John Travolta.

Saturday Night Fever,
'cept it's Friday,
and my shoes aren't quite right.

All alone,

in a corner,

on antidepressants,

drinking too much,

and still I can not dance.
sad
Form:

My Medicine

I can see you're my medicine. 
You've already done more than my antidepressants could ever hope to do.
Form:

Surrealism At 1 O'Clock

i shake my head no when the target employee asks
if i want to sign up for a rewards card
i shake my head a lot

i have a nervous twitch that jerks my head around
to listen for signs of oncoming freighters

my father and mother call me overmedicated
i call myself in the middle of the night when i am awake 
with claws poised above my wrists

antidepressants are a funny thing
when your depression isnt a depression anymore, 
when it isnt feeling sad or guilty or lonely
it isn't feeling at all, 
it isn't even being numb 
it is falling away from your body altogether.
it is you, adrift on autopilot

you've lost your edge, old dog, i tell my naked body in the mirror on the night of my fifteenth birthday.
i spent today underwater

i dropped my plate because i could 
and i couldn't keep my arms up
and i stood amongst the shattered ceramic for far longer than i should have,
staring into space like a piece in moma

my father and mother walk in
and call me catatonic
i don't respond

they walk back out and i am still standing in the ceramic
i never move for the fear of sharp things 
and for the fear that my lips work fine

and my standing here, 

barely breathing, 

isn't the medication at all.
© Cas Puc  Create an image from this poem.

Change

Indigos, light workers, empaths are hear
Struggling to change the errors of yesteryear

Power, money, corruption and greed
Will no longer be the motive that leads

The 60's, the freedom, they tried with defiance
The ones in power had them silenced

Like darwins theory of evolution
We are born for the revolution

There is too much pain in the world we've created
The ones who have tried have been banished and sedated

With antidepressants, Ritalin and crack
A lot of the indigos have been held back

This change will come, but take many a year
When it is over, they'll be no more fear

Tanis troutman
Form: Monorhyme

Wrong Side of Nature

The leaves have abandoned the trees
Are they cold?
Leopard with out its spots
Does it still feel superior?
Fog that consumed a landscape
Were the clouds feeling lonely?
The snow flake that has a twin
Betrayment of winter 
Birds that are tired of making the effort to fly
Perhaps there's more action on the ground
Flowers that are losing their petals faster than they can be replaced
Does anyone sympathize when the sea cries?
Has the sun been on antidepressants since the beginning of time?
Do plants ever wonder what food tastes like?
All that effort and not even a bite?
Natural disasters are Mother Natures rebellious clean up crew
Their the mafia of the nature world
Saying 'don't screw with us'
Only difference being, one has mere strands of hair
While others have a luxurious coat
No wonder why we steal from them

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