Clients Poems | Examples

Therapy Sessions

**Therapy Session**

Some people insist that a demon exists within all of us. 
A rapist is nothing more than a thief,
And it's clear that some public defenders 
Don’t have more intelligence than their clients.
Remember, you are not obligated to serve as a juror in every case. 
With that understanding, creating a mental trend becomes straightforward.

It's astonishing to discover a hockey player who is anything but fierce
 or a police officer controlled by fear and anger.
 A cook without a kitchen is ridiculous
 as tango without jingo—a philosophy that leaves no gaps.

The new breakfast drink is here: iced coffee 
In the morning and mocha lattes all day.
 Don’t interfere with the work that empowers us each day.

I am a woman who follows the warmth, 
and I refuse to believe that a tree that doesn’t blossom is a worthless creation. 
Yes, you can eat tree bark while the lark builds its nest on the ground. 
A philosophy without any gaps stands strong.

Dear Mother

Dear mother.

I think that I learned how 'To listen',
how  'Not to worry', and how
'Not to whine' from you, mother.

Mother, I never heard you say,
'Don't worry', but your attitude and actions,
and everything about you said it for you.

Mother, I don't remember a single lesson about
'Listening', but as a beautician, I saw your
ears and heart always tuned in as your clients
confided in you. You listened, and they trusted.

Mother, I never saw you 'Weeping and whining'
over spilled milk. You simply poured another
glass of milk. No, Mother. You did not waste
your emotions and time complaining about bitter
days gone by or bad days ahead. You always
believed in a better tomorrow. Thanks, mother.
I miss you.

Walk Ins An American Sonnet

There is no appointment necessary,
you are free to saunter right in;
Just be sure to read the sign on the door,
mind the subterfuge of fine print; 

Results are built out of high maintenance,
don’t mistake turnkey for easy;
It takes alot of effort to stay clean,
our clients reap the benefits;

Be mentally prepared to do the work,
you will cross the finish line first;
Effort needs to remain invisible,
pay your dues with repetition;

Sign on the dotted line the fun begins,
do not be shy we take walk-ins.

Sleeping Giant

1/26/24


Y'all woke up a sleeping giant
Y'all interrupted my peace and quiet

Ya'll don't know how to be silent
Y'all still remain mean and violent

Most of y'all fake
Just like these tyrants
Y'all think you're so great
Let the world know, there's nothing you can keep private

Many of y'all already three striked it
Most of y'all switch sides like tide shifts
As quick as a flick of the light switch

Y'all act all high and mighty, yet are far from righteous
Y'all still are being biased

Y'all don't listen even when one is teaching the science
It's always three sided

Skies darkened or brightened
Senses heightened
Don't be frightened
Just be yourself not anything that's unlike it

She just wants diamonds and private islands
He wants money to buy it

Most of these sheep blinded
To the truth by staying weak minded

The sound of police sirens
Amid street riots
Meanwhile all across the seas pirates
Targeting elite clients

As the steam rises
Are we to blame for causing extreme climates
Another new disease or virus
Leading right into a deep crisis

I Couldn't Talk About It, So I Wrote A Poem

I cough, but it’s barely a cough.
It’s more that I just cleared my throat, but my throat is clear already.
The cough is intentional, so I hope she doesn’t know that.
The truth is…
The truth is-
The truth isn’t…
Well that, I have a thing on my mind. It’s a thing about a thing and so on.
Mumble, mumble.
It’s warm today isn’t it? Haha! Hahaha!
I try to cough again, but I sputter instead.
Coughing, and it never ends. 
She hands me water.
I’m coughing and that creates another cough.
My eyes are getting wider and wider.
Cough… cough…..one more cough.
It’s over.
The hour is over.
She has other clients.
And none of them cough this much.

Functionally Depressed

Functionally depressed 
Got to work each day
Do what everyone wants you to do 
Say the things they want you to say 
Just to make it through another day
Mask so good even a clown can’t tell
You blend in so well
That you wonder, who are the clients and who is the worker
Living life as a functionally depressed person 
Wake up each day
Take a shower and get dressed
You don’t want anyone to know
That while you lay in bed at night 
You beg God to take your last breath
Walk to the kitchen 
Get a glass of water
It easier to swallow a handful of  aka pills
That’s supposed to help
Make you feel better 
People ask “how are you?
It almost like a song on repeat 
You can spit it out so easily
I’m good, I am ok, I had a great weekend
When really you have fallen 
Functionally depressed 
Gets what you need done
Paid the bills, food in freezer
Make plans and keep playing the game of life
But inside you are hoping
Someone will break in and end it all
Functionally depressed 
Where you take the fun
And you just Run

Closing time

I walked into that place
Sun shining on my face 
Knowing I'd leave soon 
But as my heartbeat picked up its pace
Growing fond of this new space
I already dreaded the sight of the moon 

I never once thought of leaving 
Even though It could never be my home 
I still just kept believing 
I could forever blindly roam 

But soon closing time came 
I was no longer treated the same 
The dishes were served and the bill over paid
But the servers grew cold and their smiles started to fade 
However I still would've stayed
Even in a place with no lights 
And cold nights 
I would've been the most loyal of clients 
Even if I had to be a cleaner , any kind if alliance 
That meant I would belong to this building even if it was no place to live
I would throw tantrums , behave like little children 
I would throw in everything I have to give 

But it wasn't enough 
Neither was my love
And then the cab was here 
It pulled up to the place
Like I pulled down my sleeves 
To wipe the tears of my face 
Full with love unrecieved

It was time to go home 
To leave like I always knew I'd have to 
Even though it was prone 
Why did I have yo leave it , leave you

A Common Whore

Just a common whore they said
Who rolled the drunken tars
As they staggered out from
The Dockside taverns and bars.
Lime Street, Liverpool was
Where she plied her trade.
Where her drunken bargains
Were very quickly made.

Transported to Australia
When she was finally caught
And Maggie May of Liverpool
Could no longer be bought.
No consideration for the times
The Tars gave her a beating 
Or made off without paying, 
The lowest form of cheating.

The girls still ply their trade
Their services still for hire
A trade that isn’t possible if
There weren’t so many a buyer.
A class ridden trade really
With the range of clients it affords
From  back street transactions to those 
Who  service the Commons and Lords.

One just a back street whore with 
A life of hardship, risk and distress,
The other with chance of promotion
To  status of aristocrat’s mistress.
Maggie May is infamous now,
Celebrated in bawdy song
A good modern QC could argue
She probably really did no wrong.

Johnkris

Jolly 
O'
House of transient 
Near the beach 
Keeping 
Real privacy of 
Internal lives of their clients to 
Secrecy 

September 1, 2023

God's Children Are Not For Sale

Today our world is threatened by,
An evil that should make us cry.
It’s vicious as a tidal wave,
And involves men who trade in slaves.

Their victims are young girls and boys,
whom they abduct and sell as toys,
to clients who are pedophiles,
Who makes them live in constant dread.

The number of these chaste child slaves,
is more than those who crossed the waves,
in ships with men crammed in the hold
destined to be bought and then sold.

Why is there, not a great outrage,
Against this evil of the age?
Is it because powerful men,
use these children in their playpens?

The God who loves them hears their cries,
Their plight is painful to His eyes.
Those who hurt them are fit to die,
by drowning when the tide is high.

Let all of us join in the fight,
To rid the world of this black blight.
Support the ones who risk the grave,
for every child, they try to save.

We need to let these perverts know,
That we would fight them toe to toe.
Let’s shout it loud, tell without fail,
That God’s children are not for sale.

A Vendor of Ice Cream

Vendor of Ice cream calling clients;
gangs slapped her and took her objects. 
She screamed on the road, 
her voice was not heard.
She thought that they were pickpockets.

Jezebel's Vegetables

       Parchment reach reap, continual column
       Turns over huge too ripe drooping vegetables
       Dirt encrusted, grit bitter varietal problem 
       Sown hammock slack jowls of expired eligible 


       Rows of sour seeds scatter, screen remote
       Hits rock of dark past in cyber seclusion
       Parsnips tumble imprudent from trenchcoat 
       Revelations conspire as a cosy delusion


       Bedroom Belle picks weakness with a sickle
       Amps up apathetic with chicken meal
       Prods tired produce, hoary humour tickled
       Caustic crop farmer fertile hands heal
  
       
       
        
       Twenty Seventh of June
       Twilight clients of Jezebel

Ferocious Five

Ferocious felines
Friday night feasting on fish
Fast and Furious five


Call girls on the prowl
They are busy with their clients
Five on Friday night


June 11, 2023.
Show Don't Tell, Tell Don't Show Poetry Contest, 
Dilly Dally.

A Pawnshop Customer

Downtown
broad squares
highway
out of these places
every nook and cranny alleyway,
shabby signboard,
makes a terrifying sound
when the wind blows,
we open a very narrow door
and meet an old man
who greets us with a warm smile
across an iron cage
we are always curious
about the treasures buried
in the darkness behind him
They are of no use to him.
Where are you taking all valuables
and putting them away?
from the people
trying to end up hunger
Like the sound of the wheels
of a train moving away,
there was always silence that swallowed the light.
And he was the richest in our town
Of course,
reputation has always been like this
"Not even a person."
What happened to the old man
who took great pride
not having a single person
to pick up the items
Where did his cash and gold go?
Were his poor clients successful?
must ask pawnshop best customer
of the old man,
snoops down
the streets of prosperous pawnshops
in the 21st century mega cities
Tokyo
Shanghai
New York
London,
and Dostoevsky,
We must read his book.

I Was a Holistic Therapist

I was a Holistic Therapist
with oils and creams galore.
most clients were lovely
but some you had to ignore.
One came asking for 'extras'
which i answered with a threat
I said I'd throw his clothes outside
which I'm sure he would regret.
The thing that really bothered me
made me want to beat him down,
wasn't just the suggestion,
but he only offered me ten pounds!

• Short Clients Poems
• Famous Clients Poems
• Best Clients Poems
• Read Clients Poems
• Long Clients Poems
• Clients Quotes