Best Psychologists Poems
I didn't always adhere to the warnings of the experts
who declared nothing beyond time-outs should be used
to correct a child’s behavior—that parents must not,
even temporarily, take away a toy or a privilege OR
use “psychologically damaging” responses like
“What you just did was bad”!
When you, as a teenager, fought me at every turn,
when you despised me--or seemed to--
the experts' words came back to haunt me.
Still, I continued on my chosen path and tried
not to reveal how defeated and helpless I felt.
While the renowned psychologists were saying,
"The teenager's privacy must not be violated,"
I was watching you, not always from afar.
When, in spite of me, you began accomplishing a degree
privacy at the tender age of 14, you hid from me, opting
to use that freedom to forge risky relationships
that alienated you from those who really cared.
Over time, something beautiful happened.
You metamorphosed into a fine young lady.
As a parent, you have neither punished severely
nor spoiled your children. You've limited
their privacy and kept hold of the reins.
As they sneer at you and rebel, you wonder,
as I once did, If you've taken the wrong route.
I can't verbally assure you that you haven't.
I can't give you an encouraging embrace.
Perhaps I did enough while I was there.
January 1, 2019, entered in Emile Pinet's Free Verse Style Poetry Only contest,
placed 2nd
February 4, 2019, entered in Chantelle Anne Cooke's Favorite Free Verse Contest
I down poison and sleep for days
trying to take the heart ache away
I swallow rasorblades to take the headaches away
but nothing matters its always the same
what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger
liar liar pants on fire!!!!
Overdosed and dieing
survived it and now paying with liver damage and internal bleeding
The car crash of the drunk driver
how relaxing
nail biting aftermath
and another reason to go out and party
for the celebration
of the alcoholic
who just took the life of his best friend
I'm the victom
I'm the victom
I'm the victom he says
but low and behold the survivors in the other vehicle
stronger than ever
all crippled and in wheel chairs
know that
they should really thank the drunk driver and condemn
all the hippocrits who know nothing of survival
so here i am
wishing to be more strong
why bother to exercise
they surely have it all wrong
why pay attention to science any way
all those cliches can tell you about apples and sunshine
but we know what doesn't kill you makes you stronger
so i think I'll cut off my leg
go play in traffic
or fight the wars by doing too much drugs
the place inside the fire can tell you
what doesn't kill you will only make you strong
A second lease on life
a new found reason to get up and go
and find god and praise life
and all the things i should have done
and all the newfound glorious reasons to cry
why oh why oh why oh why
thank you lord thank you Jesus
thank you wars thank you liars thank you lies
thank you doctors thank you poets
thank you psychologists
thank you preachers for truly understanding an age old cliche
I'll peel off this apple to keep the doctor away throw out the core
and know
if it doesn't kill me
I'm probably just weak
and after all the rehabilitation and speach therapy i still don't feel like me
SOMETHING HAPPENED TO ME WHEN I WAS JUST A GIRL
IT INVOLVED A BAD MAN, & IT RESHAPED MY WHOLE WORLD
A NEW SET OF DEMONS WERE INTRODUCED INTO MY LIFE
PAIN, & SHAME, DESPAIR, ANGER, & STRIFE
THERE WAS GREAT CHAOS IN MY LITTLE SOUL
AND IT GREW, AND IT STAYED, AND INCREASED EVERMORE
THERE WERE NO PSYCHOLOGISTS, OR THERAPISTS FOR THE RAPED WHO WERE POOR
AND THE DREAMS!
OH, THOSE DREAMS
SO GRAPHIC, SO REAL
I BEGAN GOING WITHOUT SLEEP
I BEGAN NOT WANTING TO FEEL
I COPED WITH THE INNER-TURMOIL IN A NEGATIVE WAY
I GRASPED ON THOSE DEMONS WHO WERE WITH ME
BECAUSE PAIN BEGETS MORE PAIN
AND SO, THIS WAS MY REALITY & THE JUST OF MY LIFE
HURTING BUT SMILING, DEAD BUT ALIVE
THEN, YET MORE CHAOS....WHEN I BECAME MOMMY & WIFE
THOSE DEMONS, MY COMPANIONS, THEY INVITED SOME FRIENDS
THEY HAD TO, THERE WAS MORE OF ME TO SHARE, IN THE FORM OF CHILDREN
BUT GOD......
SAID, “ OK, THAT’S ENOUGH!”
THEN HE BREATHED IN AND HE BLEW......
“HI, I’M JESUS, GOD’S SON,” SAID A VOICE, “AND I DIED JUST FOR YOU.”
“ALL THAT STUFF THAT YOU’RE HOLDING, GIVE IT TO ME.”
THEN HE HACKED AND HE CHASED AND SPOKE AND HE PRUNED
AND WHEN I THOUGHT MY FOOT WAS SLIPPING
HE SAID, “ MY GOOD WORK IS NOT THRU! FOR MY LOVE IS ETERNAL.”
“AND WHEN YOU HURT SO DO I. NOW IT IS MY TURN TO RESHAPE YOUR LIFE.”
YET ANOTHER VOICE APPEARED, AND IN A WHISPERED HE SAID
“ I AM GOD. I’M YOUR FATHER, AND I’VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”
“ I’M GONNA TURN THAT PAIN INTO PRAISE!” THEN HE GAVE ME A TOUCH!
“THIS IS HOLY SPIRIT, AND HE IS ALSO ME.”
AND SINCE THEN, MY NAME’S BEEN CHANGED TO ‘BEAUTIFUL PEACE’.
OH, LIFE ISN’T PERFECT, AND I AM STILL QUITE FLAWED
BUT, I AM NOW ALIVE, AND I’M LIVIN’ WITH GOD
AND MY FAMILY IS BLESSED
NOT DEMON-POSSESSED
MY WAYS ARE THE LORD’S
AND I’M FREE FOREVER MORE
Nazis
Nazi society
Unfortunately they exist
Always
Mental poisons
They think they can
Rule over people
They are different nazis
Yes. They are psychologists
Some of them work for nazis
Psychologists want to drive the people
It’s a crime. Psychology is power, and money
Psychologists come from their psychological society
Psychologists want to rule humanity
Psychological society
Want to rule humanity
Psychologists are
Nazis
No psychology
In my life
I want God
Inside my skull
there is a house
that never sleeps.
Its corridors are lined
with mirrors made of old wounds,
and every mirror
insists on showing me
a different version of myself.
In one room,
Guilt sits like a tailor,
measuring my mistakes
with a yellow tape
that stretches across decades.
In another,
Fear is a locksmith,
changing the shape of every door
just before I arrive.
Nothing fits.
Nothing opens.
Nothing stays.
Meanwhile,
Memory works in the basement,
a silent archivist
cataloguing forgotten afternoons,
preserving heartbreaks
in glass jars,
pinning dead conversations
like rare butterflies.
Sometimes
I hear them fluttering.
Psychologists call it rumination.
I call it
a graveyard teaching itself
how to sing.
The brain is strange.
It builds cathedrals
out of tiny accidents.
One careless sentence
can become a religion.
One abandonment
can become a climate.
One betrayal
can alter the migration route
of every future hope.
And still,
we continue.
What remarkable creatures we are—
walking ecosystems
of invisible weather.
Some people carry monsoons
behind their smiles.
Some carry droughts.
Some are entire oceans
pretending to be cups of tea.
For years,
I believed healing meant
demolishing this house.
Breaking every wall.
Silencing every ghost.
But grief,
that ancient architect,
whispered otherwise.
It said,
“The crack is not your enemy.
It is the window
through which tomorrow enters.”
So now,
when anxiety hangs its dark laundry
across my thoughts,
I do not fight it.
I simply open another window.
When loneliness arrives,
dragging its suitcase of echoes,
I make tea for both of us.
When sorrow plants its black garden,
I water it carefully,
for even suffering
contains seeds
that do not yet know
their own flowers.
And on certain nights,
when the moon rests
like a silver bandage
upon the forehead of the world,
I walk through the rooms
inside my skull
and discover
that I was never a broken house.
I was a lighthouse,
mistaking my own storms
for ruins.
My Son
He just doesn’t listen, his mind is not there,
His thoughts are scattered everywhere.
He wants to play, he wants to run,
He cannot be the only one?
The school’s lost interest,
They just can’t cope.
The Senco’s at the end of her rope!
Meetings with teachers, psychologists too,
Oh God, please start this day anew.
All I want is an average day,
No negativity to bring dismay.
I try, how I try to think positive thoughts,
But the unkind words just make me distraught.
Other kids don’t get it, they just think he’s weird,
They look at him tho’ he has three heads a-tiered!
But what they don’t know, don’t get, understand,
He’s the best friend they’d have if they gave him a chance.
He’s witty and funny, quirky, polite,
He doesn’t throw punches, nor does he bite.
He’s a champion, a marvel, this child of mine,
Acceptance will happen, I pray, over time.
For stigma is strong, it sticks, like thick mud,
It’s thrown at him daily and lands with a thud.
“You’re an ADHD kid, go take your pill.”
“Clear off, you’re not like us,” more mud thrown with skill.
I applaud his indifference, he just walks away,
Those kids think they’ve won, oh no, not today.
For my lad is secure in his own skin,
Name calling can’t break that, just wear it thin.
So, I envelop him in love and help build it strong,
For each day he stands up and proves them all wrong.
The things I've been, the things I have been, the things I am, things I'm to be,
a symbol so dark, a sign so brite, a mark of the heart,
shadow of the soul,
rind of mind,
as the Buddhist meditates on mandalas of rich color,cycles,devas,dangers & devotions
I embrace the world with all my senses, with vigilance,
riled rhapsody,
Christians sewing psalms into the conscious
confounded with temptation, condemnation & damnation,
as Buddhists focused towards an ineffable destination
my terminus is an awareness that explains purpose without pain or pleasure
but with an indomitable patience for being in perfection,
as blue is blue for blue,
Freemasons have their acacia & aprons,
the magic of History, of memory, of Brotherhood,
I shall memorize the wrong & right of my behavior, of my beliefs,
carry the cross of carelessness, rub beads of bemusement,
scratch thy palms upon the rough ashlar,
bleed for the sake of beauty, for the right of recognition,
as a hawk glides and swoops with an exactitude
reminding One not to waste effort, to combine instinct & strategy
into trusted tactics, salvation found in solitude,
intuition aimed at the heavens can demonstrate
there is knowledge in not knowing,
serenity can be secured through suffering, happiness in creative endurance,
a nomad, a monk, mother of a nobody
may teach that freedom is measured as strength through degrees,
chessmen bespeak the value of loyalty & sacrafice,
police have a badge, judges gavels, bankers use notes, psychologists study dreams,
artists utilize shapes & sounds to elicit feelings
evoking meaning for life,
perhaps superstition is ultimate motivation,
subjective & collective interpratations for reality which make it all tolerable,
that special definition making life personal,
when a culture abandons, or forgets the symbols of it's constructs
how can it survive,
continuity can not color & inspire posterity,
a tree without water,
as when a human neglects itself,
disfiguring the ideal into something rueful or baleful,
then the mystic symbol must change with it
as rich soil to mud,
the symbology survives, elastic and plastic like a spider web in the wind,
nature will always reconstruct,
teaching that our lives are inflamed imprints for the future -
J.A.B.
Do we see the world
through rose coloured glasses
Durst cut up the bodies of people
Psychologists say
He must have a mental illness
perhaps but the spanish
conquistadors cut up the bodies
of american indian babies
did they all have a mental illness
the New Zealand Maori
had the victory feast
where they sat and ate
the captives that lost their battle
culture after culture has been
cannibalistic treating each other
in horrible ways
did they all have mental problems
look back through history
and every culture every race
has treated others horribly
The American indian tied
a man legs to two different bending trees
and used the trees to split him in two
the Japanese Used slivers of bamboo
to take off one nail at a time
The English had hung drawn a quartered
a man was hung then dragged through the town
behind horses before being cut in four
with his head put on a stake
to warn others
not to break the law
The Russians attacked and killed
their Czar and his family
killing their aristocracy
to create a Communistic state
do they all have a mental disorders
or are all people capable
of horrific behaviours
I don't think that
I could ever do what has been done
but how much
of who am i
has been taught to me over the years
if I had been brought up in a different way
could I be a different person
How much do we owe to God
the bible teaches love thy neighbour
the bible became the foundation of our laws
is civilisation just a fabric
a facade
an illusion
created to make ourselves feel better about life
are we progressing toward paradise on earth
or are we heading back into the depths
of deprivation
Is man just an animal waiting to be unleashed
or is he the scholar
the lover waiting to grow
Imagine the bomb going down on Iraq
their metal fragments slicing like knives
through a two year old
Granted they attack the world
they use children as cannon fodder bombs
when will human beings learn to love all people
no matter what colour we are all the same
A wisdom download,
Some years back ,
Alfonso Warally Chris asked
The so called intelligent, "
Why do those who think
To be intelligent worship animals
which have no mind?
Or things made
by humans?
"The things of God
Are very difficult to understand,
Brothers and sisters.
An animal has instinct,
But you will meet some psychologists
And phylosophers who worship animals
And statues,"
He said.
A wisdom download,
"Do you think those philosophers and
Psychologists who worship animals
Know the real God?
Are they intelligent than those animals?"
Are they wisers?
He asked again.
Many questions unanswered,
Millions of wise readers
Can produce many answers
According to the wisdom
Of the real God in them.
Sometimes you can be blamed
When you sharing your thoughts
With millions of the world people
Which is not really reasonable.
Some people can be in the field
Which they don't well understand
And end up sounding as ignorants.
A wisdom download,
Sometimes you can think to be wise
Due to having some doctorate degrees
While you are not.
One president of DRCongo comes
in my mind,
He was not well educated
But he played
Many university professors
When they left teaching carriers
To join politicians.
Many students
Understood that there is no a World
University which can download
And install the wisdom of God
In the students.
Somewhere majority of very educated people
Worship some politicians as their gods.
This is not an exam question paper
But it is a wise questionnaire
From a wise questioner.
April 17/2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by
Unseeking seeker
We are like wiggling aphids on a quantum computer.
Knowledge beyond the scope of the most gifted tutor.
Spaces and dimensions multiplied by infinity, plus one.
Therefore, I am open to any possibility, oddity -- or none.
Too many eye-witness, photographed phenomenon to shun:
Like the fifth (genuine) photograph of the Cottingley Fairies.
In Taos, New Mexico that unexplained hum is unnervingly scary.
Intuition (or sixth sense) makes science and psychologists wary.
Disappearances (Hoffa, Earhart) cannot be dismissed so lightly.
Ghosts, sprites and ectoplasmic bits flaunt themselves nightly.
UFO sightings, crashes and top-secret documents exist, rightly.
The prevalence and similarity of near-death cases is astounding.
Fairies (or Fae, or Angels) hail not only from European founding;
But, from China to the USA, their numbers, happily, rebounding.
Hordes of haters and sceptics are quick to condemn and dissent.
Nevertheless, I, too, have witnessed a truly unfathomable event.
From my night-time garden, I spied a winged, many legged gent.
Of course, I have no evidence -- so, raise your knives and neuter....
Spaces and dimensions multiplied by infinity, plus one.
Like the fifth (genuine) photograph of the Cottingley Fairies.
Disappearances (Hoffa, Earhart) cannot be dismissed so lightly.
The prevalence and similarity of near-death cases is astounding.
Hordes of haters and sceptics are quick to condemn and dissent.
Of course, I have no evidence -- so, raise your knives and neuter....
Honoring the body
lets adore an ultratechnologycal god
a cold, swift and complex one
whom every morning
we will serve humble
glittering its “on” button
a god to whom we will caress
the polar chips
to cool our inefficiency
caused by emotions
love hate compassion tenderness
Ultratechnogical god !
the soul reflected on the mirror of your ice
shrinks tiny
while you grow
while start entering the drawer
of the museum of times
the poets philosophers psychologists
the arts the irrental
to be visited
like collection objects
strange insects
incomprehensible unnecessary
in the economic machinery
Ultratechnological god !
the night has arrived !
with panic lets turn off your button
we admire your rest in total death
but to us are left the dreams
that shout from their ferrous cell
that there was once a feeling
a living a loving
a being before having
a sharing
total and profound that was real
but is now part of the mnemic hologram
5 BILLION POOR
5 BILLION POOR FORSOOTH DEMAND,
EQUALITY THROUGHOUT THE LAND,
MORE THAN A MILLION DOLLARS IN THE BANK IS GREED,
MORALITY GETS EVERYONE A FEED,
LETS VOTE ON THIS REFERENDUM,
MORAL QUESTION OF THE DEED,
LETS SHARE ALL OF PIGGIES GREED,
LEAVE IT A MILLION, ONE,
ALL EQUAL UNDER THE SOD,
GREEDY ONES ARE SELFISH CLODS,
LETS FIX THE PLANET, GIVE A NOD,
NO POINT ACCEPTING GREED,
5 BILLION WANT THIS, GOD....
YES INDEED. Don
Minority groups control the world?
Why should we the multi-dudes, of multitudes,
of more than 5 billion VOTERS put up with the greedy rich,
we don't have to, we have Facebook :}
to vote Nasty, rob your neighbour GREED out.
Are we mentally, morally, strong enough?
We must Do it, but Keep the old system running everywhere !
But, no one individual, to earn more than a million dollars US!
Moral redirection of the wealth of greed to worthy beneficiaries ,
eg: FAIR paid for work in the 3rd world no longer 3rd world nations! Every family to eventually have voter access to Facebook to vote on every important outcome on the planet...
Great living conditions for every person on the planet!
All great causes to be voted for on Facebook, majority rules!
Without Opression no need for people to leave their Homeland.
Except when on visiting during holidays:}
When the opressed Minorities have equality, and are treated fairly,
when all are content, Utopia is here...
We are such weak brained wonders,
that we allow psychologists to alter the world?
why would you go away from a brutal system that works?
to a pathetic system that doesn't work,
humans are sometimes like ANIMALS who need discipline,
without discipline there is no control,
where there is no respect there is anarchy,
YES morality is long dead,
We need to go back to a system that worked.
As poet who was visiting some places
To cook a piece of poetry,
suddenly you met some psychologists
who were worshipping some animal statues.
You continued with your tour,
you came across some very educated people
at a graveyard who were speaking to the dead folks.
You are told to mention about their
( IQ) intelligence quotients.
Will you afraid to speak the truth
because you will be called arrogant
by some very educated people?
As the dead people and statues
don't hear or speak,
will you tell them to go to some hospitals
for checking up their brains?
Do you think they will feel guilty
and change their minds and thoughts
Or they will hunt to stone your head?
Some other things are above humans
understandings
It sounds prophetic
But it is poetic.
July 10th 2023
Much harder to bear
Than the absence of words
Was the silence of her eyes
There were no shades of love
In their depths
No dawning light of recognition
No glint of passion
No pooling of pain
In the form of tears
Nothing...
Her eyes had taken
A vow of silence
Unseeing
Unfeeling
Focused on the hospital wall
And there he sat
Dying beside her
As psychologists came and went
And the silence hung heavy
On his heart
He looked at her bandaged wrists
His slit heart
Still bleeding
His thoughts still reeling
Yesterday’s events still
Fresh as her wounds
His daughter’s screams
Still filling his ears
The sight of her
In a pool of blood
In the bathtub
Unconscious
Still replaying
On the screen of his mind
He sat by her bed
Reached for her hand
Felt nothing
How long he had struggled
To ease her troubled mind
With his love
The only sound
That filled the room
Was the sound of the wracking sobs
That suddenly burst from his frame
He buried his head in his arms
Shutting out the pain
Letting it all go
As his tears soaked
The hospital sheet
Of her bed
Movement….
He felt a hand on his head
His hair moving
To a familiar caress
That now paralyzed him
Could it be?
He breathing ragged
He slowly lifted his face
Wiping his tears
Hoping to see
Hoping to hear
A sign of life
He eyes focused on her face
His blood racing
His heart hearing
Her eyes speak...
A lone tear
Left the pool of her eyes
Hung an eternity on her lashes
And was unleashed
Bringing with it a steam of others
Released from her eyes
A pool of deep love
Shimmering, alive
Recognition of a long lost time
Dawning in her eyes
Her eyes spoke
Words of hope
He smiled through his tears
Gently moving onto her bed
He gathered her in his arms
Hoping she would hear
The language of his heart
The beating of love
The language of his arms
The shelter of love
The nearness of his body
The warmth of love
He prayed she would hear
She would believe
She would understand
His language of love
Those very words
He had heard
Her eyes speak…
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A criminal is sane by their own logic,
You can look into their mind to count them wrong,
They can be confronted for their psychologies,
And told that their song is long.
ISIL is based on the fundamentalist Koran,
Which states that all non-muslims are going to hell,
That all governments should be Islamic,
And of Allah and Mohammed all should tell.
You can challenge these beliefs at school,
Where teens are pressured to choose,
Islamic extremism, prayer and washing,
Such that in the Koran themselves they do loose.
Teachers should be prepared to read to them,
The liberal Koran before they’ve settled on a way,
Or the creed and principles of the humanist,
To offer them and chance at a wiser say.
Educational psychologists and RE teachers,
Should redirect and ask teens to reconsider,
What they’ve seen of Facebook, YouTube,
And to delete their videos of extremist propaganda.
There is a permanent way out,
A long-term answer to this problem of terrorism,
Which is to validate liberal religion, if any, at school,
If the secular is rejected for exclusivism.
Indeed, all schools should base themselves on humanism,
On human values and people ethics for chat,
In assembly where prayer should never place,
Only introspection on life’s structures and bat.
All people are of equal inherent worth,
And since this is not a religious statement,
The ethos of all schools should be humanist,
Not of Christian, Islamic, Muslim sentiment.
Your moral fibre is formed at school,
And not just with your parents at home,
So we should not be enabling or allowing,
Kids in any religion to freely roam.
You sow the seeds of kindness,
In the nutritious soil of beliefs,
So survey each teen for militia,
Towards alternative sheafs.
One world, one people, one universal body,
We’re all the same at base so hear,
That any belief should endorse pluralism,
So that those different to us can be dear.
Religion only causes hurt very ultimately,
So we should analyse it and have a process,
Because god is not sacred but has, like us, evolved,
So promote liberalism and advocate humanism’s dress.