Long Depressive Poems
Long Depressive Poems. Below are the most popular long Depressive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Depressive poems by poem length and keyword.
(“Corpus Callosum", 2018, original encaustic)
Right Brain, Left Brain
Two halves of a whole
Complimentary opposites
Passive/active, imaginal/verbal
Figurative/literal, depressive/manic
Outside and within time
A master and his emissary
Inside us all.
Yet each of us have our own balance
Our own comfort zones
And range of tolerance.
Like a finger print
Within our brain
Leaving its subtle mark
On everything we think, say and do.
Viva the difference!
I say
While my right brain
Just watches, impassively
As thought bubbles form, drift and fade away
To an ambient soundtrack
Of invisible spheres…
(3/7/25)
My favorite junkyard is in Chariton, Iowa.
A rusty old tow truck at the top of the hill
Painted to look exactly like Mater in the Cartoon.
When I approach the junkyard, I do with anticipation
And there he is. Sitting on the hill with his big eyed
cartoon smile, same goofy teeth.
It makes the rest of the junkyard seem happy
Which is fantastic if you can overlook all of the
beautiful cars and trucks that were once loved
But are now rusting away in depressive sadness.
There he is! I think miles before I arrive.
I am not sure what I will feel if the cartoon Mater
ever disappears. Today, at this second, I do not have to worry.
There is the goofy smile.
Assuring me that everything in the junk yard is okay.
Spring is in rebloom
with daffodils and peeking bulbs aching to rise
barely visible beneath the snow-laden earth
but venturing forth in hesitating anticipation
of an early spring thaw.
Withdrawn spirits and depressive winter cold
still harbors chills hiding in retreat
comforted in the warmth of the house
where silence reigns supreme in contemplation
breathing in the hushed quiet solitude of time.
Daylight savings time is upon us
stealing away an hour just past midnight
to revamp the darkness rising slowly
to act as a prelude to the morning light
and we adjust to time fragmented under the sun.
Just another hour lost
to be regained in autumn's fall
when all slips to dreamless sleep
and the world marks seconds to years
as time marches on.
Who's voice is so captivating that one needs to sit AND LISTEN
PROFOUND AND POETIC THEY ARE TUNED WITH A PERFECTION
OF PLEASING. oNE WHO NOTICES SUCH WOULD
COMP[LIMENT THE MELODY AND ARRANGMENTS TO SUCH
SPECIFICS THE STRUCTURE AND CHOICE OF INSTRUMENTS CREATE A
COHESEIVNESS BEYOND APPROACH
fIT AND OVERLY ATTRACTIVE IT'S SPECIFICS MAKE ATTENTION TO
THE ODVIOUS EACH LAYER COMES TOGETHER TOCREATE A PERFECTION
SOUGHT BY MOST AS EITHER A SIGNTURE PIECE OR FAVORITE SONG.
something that is not broad or all-encompassing ,
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while in commercial terms, it refers to items with a
acknowledging the specific .a GENERIC RENDERING IMPOOSSES IT'S NERVE.
GIVING PEOPLE A MERE LOOK INTO THE CLOMPEX NATURE
OF SOUND AND RYTHMN.
i LIKE YOUR NERVE FOR
SING THAT SONG.
mIND YOU EACH PURPOSE
IS MENTION IN MY REFUSEL TO
LISTEN
mANIC HIGH
AND DEPRESSIVE LOWS
THE FREQUENCY OF SONGS
THE SOUNDS OF MUSIC.
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wRITTEN bY;
tHE fRUSTATED lYRICIST
My long-winding EcoTherapist began:
Dialectic Behavioral Therapy sees Stimulus/Response
both forward and backward in time,
to look for thoughts and feeling tipping points
toward more harmonic confluence,
resonant and requisite proportional behaviors
and imaginings
of what may be justly and non-violently discerned
for future reference.
Meanwhile,
Compassion Therapy looks within these same S/R behavioral events,
reconnecting "SuperEgo" role as eco-logical teacher,
to evolve and mentor our mutual invite cause,
to respond with equivalently effective compassion,
react with mindfulness of each Ego's holonic
cooperative
and ubiquitously coincidental Prime Relationship
with EcoTao-centered Reason, Intent, Wisdom,
word choice,
feeling,
optimally receiving LeftBrain's Natural Logic deductive principles
of Right-At-Home compassionate ecotherapeutic empathic/inductive
co-arising/co-gravitational orthopraxis.
Between collective manically competitive hysteria
and suicidal absorption toward depressive self-intent
Lies Tao's Wisdom Midway,
bicamerally balancing between
schizophrenic bipolar reiterative-compulsive self-absorption
with "Other"
into the godhead of Universal Intelligence,
and paranoid messages from Evil
that "Ego" is at grave risk
of both short- and long-term economic
and bi-0-logical bionic extinction,
in one paranoid mythic form or another.
Between these way-too-polypathic extremes
lies polyculturing compassion
for human natural systems
both within--YangEgo,
and without--YinEco.
Fair trade cost for ecotherapeutic outcomes
is the ecojustice we redemptively invest
give-forward, fore-give
within ourselves,
each Other,
and Solar Systemic Earth's regenerate destiny,
as teacher,
mutual listener,
and Beloved EcoPresence,
iconized in sacred DNA/RNA regenerative-Tao
4D revolving RealTime rich resonant
full-octave as double-gravitational wu-wei
MidWay balanced Tipping Point
bio-geo-ecosystemetric regenerative therapy
v. degenerative pathology
health and safety permacultural language,
or at least syntaxed ecological restraints
on the dipolar dynamic function of bicameral appositional
Win-LeftEgo = NotNot Lose-RightEco.
I am manic
Is that dreadful?
Or is it amazingly creative
and freeing?
I am manic
I am me
Depressed. You bet,
Of ourselves I am.
But this side few will ever see.
I will spend my last here-I-Am-days
Building you up
Making you laugh
Helping you feel okay,
Then like Patch Adams and
My wonderful mother-in-law Helen
I will go to the hither and yon.
I will go so stealthily
And my dogs will bark me over the Rainbow Bridge.
Lucky and Blue Dot.com, Nova, and Queenie to name nut a few of the 19
Dogs I have rescued from a pound
I’ll shut myself away
And eat chicken hide
And lettuce and tomatoes
And I’ll show such pride.
Are you suicidal? They ask.
I scoff at that. Even deeply depressed Caren
Likes herself too much to do that.
When was the last time you fell?
The doctors ask me. I think about the time four
Years ago when I stepped onto what I thought was going to be a chair seat
But it ends up both legs were now balancing on the back of a chair.
4 years ago I say proudly.
It doesn’t hit 3 -year- old Caren or 7-year-old-Caren or
9-year-old Caren they ask this because they think we are OLD
We laugh overjoyed
At their idiocy.
Thrilled they do not even see us.
Having a conversation with fellow Christian
one day speaking on how loved to write
poetry especially was friends favourite
having written many with literal bite
Asked if I had ever tried a piece
said in my mid 20s did use my pen
but was dark depressive and dull
threw them away unworthy to open
This friend encouraged me to try again
he suggested a gift maybe there inside
open and practise never know what you’ll find
maybe it’ll be special to all you’ll then confide
When he looked at my early writings
thought it had potential so I did persevere
so after all these years ago ten in all
it’s amazing looking back how it’s reached here
Now having met many more encouragers
on PS been exhorted to continue through
hopefully I’ve inspired others likewise
so together spread it that you can do it too
I know you don't want to hurt
or even disappoint
me
And I know you don't want to hurt
yourself.
Yet still your shame
and self-blame hurt
Your self-judging
punishing closet frame
suffocates our transparent life
my caring curiosity craves,
and mutual vulnerability
our sharing courage braves.
Addiction to feeling happy
is not free
and connected to sensory satisfaction
nor to ego significant gratification
and certainly does not feed natural
and water spiritual
bilateral wealth
of healthy feeling transubstantiation,
Which, as you know,
I also recognize as body and mind healthy
choice transformation voices.
Before you even small ego-voice object,
I also recognize you may feel natural
v spiritual choice
has nothing to do with driving off
without "goodbye,
see you safely soon."
If no physically tolerable choice
of resources to feed serotonin
and water dopamine,
I know, from years of isolated,
neglected depressive experience,
how frightening loss of lonely
yet sufficient ego-powered control
can feel chronic lack of thrival.
Speaking not of win/win choice,
but inside swatting interminable win/lose Voice
never still
until you self-shame
and blame
hiding hurts
and unfree frames
us both,
unhappy you,
not Here,
And me
loving EarthNatured
EgoSpirited enough for Us,
not yet togathered Now
Still worrying
what will voiceless nonchoice happen
disempowered There
and unenlightened Then
'til suddenly Amen
Our silently uninvited
apartheid End.
Never hit a child with a belt.
Don't hit them with a fist.
Don't hit them with a whip.
Don't hit them with a chain.
Never hit a child.
It breaks their heart.
It makes them sad.
It makes them mad.
Never hit a child.
It hurts their feelings.
It makes them cry.
It makes them manic.
It makes them depressed.
Never hit a child.
If you want to hit a child
seek help at once.
Because you'd better do that
Because you don't want to raise
a schizophrenic or a manic depressive or a drug addict
Right?
Never hit a child.
With a belt.
The angriest, saddest, maddest, meanest
ready-to-fight children,
The ones who needed me the most,
the ones who frightened me the most
the ones who hurt animals and called
names and spit on people and slapped
people in the face until the people
cried and cried.
They were all hit by belts
by their mothers.
Every single one of us.
Never hit a child with a belt.
Burning daylight
Burnt the whole daylight
and entered the dark,
Only to learn plight
of firefly that glowed in the dark,
Burnt the whole daylight
to find the spark,
Lost in depressive fight
else had touched high as skylark,
Burnt the whole daylight
to hide the shame,
Of unfairly attained delight
else had not brought dis fame,
Burnt the whole daylight
in kindness and good intent,
For sound sleep of the night
of peace and content,
Burnt the whole daylight
in gaining education,
Studying also at night
for better gradation,
Burning the whole daylight
life was an absolute waste,
Knowledge rose to height
but humanity lost its taste !
Written May 6th, 2015
For contest by John Lawless