Long Therapy Poems
Long Therapy Poems. Below are the most popular long Therapy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Therapy poems by poem length and keyword.
The mind is an amazing key
With the right guidance words will trigger memories
From anger and rage to double personalities
Emotions will rise like the oceans tides
Your muscles will twitch with every cellular connection
Hurt, denial abandonment too
Like a looking glass into the past everything is a reflection of you
And not everything you see will be rosy and clean
Tears and overwhelming fears our bodies remember the slightest infraction
Our habits and beliefs play a major role too
Pain and suffering are a big part of what makes us do the things that we do
Without remorse or a second thought we push things to the back of our minds
But all through our lives we can feel something is just not right
We search for those answers like a child playing hide and seek
Sometimes we will get hints and images to help us remember and think
We’ll catch a glimpse from another life as it rises to the top
Like the coming attractions of new movies your mind plays them through the night
You’ll see your kids, wife and family but as soon as you zoom in to see you
Everything fades to white and suddenly your heart starts beating faster
All the rage and anger start rising up again
Each memory triggers another memory it’s a never ending process
And it’s not an easy path however when you consider the alternative
And you look at the life you have so far lead it is kind of like neo in the Matrix
Once you take that pill there is no going back.
You realize the program you’ve been following has been sabotaging you since birth
It’s a negative dysfunction that only supports your inevitable destruction
Debilitating thoughts that are is still playing from long, long ago
These idea’s became part of your core belief and it’s time to let them go!!..
Abusing yourself no longer serves you its time to learn how to heal
Gently open up your heart and allow people to help you feel
As I read my own words I envision a group of healers circling me with compassion
Each one in the there own way helping me to release these toxic fears
I’ve been poisoned by my own family from generation to generation
And I fought for years to stay positive but their abusive habits still affected me deeply
through their yelling, screaming and verbal attacks that numbed me in my years
I am uncertain what saved me but it could’ve been that angel I’d seen holding me dear
Form:
With shooting stars’ blessings* beyond celestial, I praise God with all my heart
Since His assured sufficiency-goodness for me will never depart
I believe that He will grant each of my desire:
And everything that for His honour I earnestly aspire
To stay constantly in the center of His perfect will
While in His compassion-care I'll keep still;
To fulfill His assigned task for me He has uniquely designed
As in His satisfaction I serenely bask to which I willingly resigned.
Midst shooting stars’ heavenly presence, I'll worship the Lord by His grace
Loving Him with my spirit, soul and strength all the days...
Hence, I yield to Him, upon faith's fervency, my supplication-filled hopes
Knowing that He knows what's best beyond my mind's scopes:
The complete recovery of my loved ones thru His divine miracle healing
Also the full restoration of those who are spiritually ailing, falling and failing;
The remarkable progress and developmental milestones of my special child
As well as those undergoing therapy, rehabilitatively-styled.
Never bereft of divine shooting stars’ experience, I press on toward victory
Guided by the guidance of Christ I must exalt for His glory...
Therefore, to His approval do I submit my dreams
Verily aware that His omniscience can overtake my vision-beams:
Foremost is the realization of an ever-ready service-providing foundation
Benefiting mankind thru its effective welfare-geared function;
Another, though not actually impossible, is the wondrous visit to the Holy Land
Where my Saviour humanly resided according to what Sovereign had planned.
Along spiritual shooting stars’ glow, I'll serve my Creator midst challenges
Since I'm called to live for Him with His power-charges...
So then I cast to Him my worries and doubts for the future
In my faithful stewardship devotion He alone can nurture:
Fruitfulness of ministry-involvement despite hardships
Earnestness of my prayer-consecration thru heavenly partnerships;
Persistence in every discipleship-engagement
Diligence in labouring for His kingdom's advancement.
*Ephesians 1:3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.
August 14, 2019
3rd place, "Shooting Stars" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron; judged on 8/31/2019.
There is a violent war that’s not in movies.
These soldiers we lost are not seen on TVs.
Friendly fire is the biggest killer of our men.
Per soldier lost at war, at home we lost over 10.
People know of PTSD and shell shock.
But the effects must be taken stock.
We civilians don’t know what they go through.
As their mission ended with nothing left to do.
The training and survival skills do not go away.
The paranoia and fear are in the brain to stay.
Losing purpose and absent structure remain.
Leads to wild thoughts some feel are insane.
To help this issue we learn to band together.
Soldiers and civilians become of one feather.
The group is created to address the mess.
Allowing soldiers a place free to confess.
By linking all our bodies, souls and mind,
We continue the motto No Man Left Behind.
Put your feet on the ground and breathe deep.
Go up and down, quieting thoughts to a peep.
Fully balance out your body from head to toe.
Watch the changes as you reap what you sow.
Feel your body tremble working through pain.
Doing rep after rep, finding a pace to sustain.
Logging the numbers to account for the grind.
Crushing the haters you’re leaving behind.
Both internal and out keep their mouth shut.
Knock out a set and they can kiss your butt.
Suicide may have previously won the battle.
But Americans are not Grim Reaper’s cattle.
We’ve banded together to win this fight.
Saving lives at home is what’s in sight.
Whether you do many thousands or just two.
The squats can straighten out a mind screw.
Forcing the blood through our bodies quick.
Turning soft legs into muscle hard and thick.
Forging our glutes into newfound rocks.
Quieting the mental voice that mocks.
Demons can pucker and kiss our rock butts.
Squat therapy can prevent deep wrist cuts.
Connecting with distant suicide fighters.
Illuminating the dark room with lighters.
Helping one other on our physical journey.
Carrying the fallen on a virtual gurney.
The strong reach out and will carry the weak.
Forging us forward on the challenge we seek.
Some days disappoint and others we surprise.
But the goal of what we do is to open the eyes.
The experience I’m discussing is Mission 22.
It’s been an honor to share the ride with you.
So although we will approach the 2,200 soon.
The best is yet to come for us, so stay in tune!
Love without Beloved,
Beloved without Love,
neither alternative could be
me without you
you within me
both equivalent would be
We.
We without you,
or me,
this simply can not be,
we takes both equally
bidextrously
ambivalent
Without me,
just you,
or me,
which We cannot
co-arisingly be.
I could not be me
without a you,
nor you
without a me,
as I, you see
we're not at home
in silo-by-silo
universality,
confusing coincidentality,
poor performing
economicality,
dismal absence
of ecologicality,
teleologically teasing
merely biological We.
If no Earthy EcoSystem,
then no Me.
If no Me, then no exegetical
metaphysical
metamorphical
polycultural
permaculturing Be.
If no Belonging,
then no longing.
If no longing, then no hope
of Belonging.
If no becoming, then not Being
seeing
sensing
souling
solving
resolving
resonating
hibernating
sublimating
en-double-lightening We.
If synapse
were not quite so closely haunted
by relapse
deep learning might be
as boringly unpredictable
as gravity's self-creational
bi-relational
lapse.
When East and West learn to divest
of Othering culture's absence,
as South and North learn to invest
in Other culture's apart-sense,
then PermaCulturing Design
will co-redeem
sustainable We
polyculturing our healthy Planet
polymorphic economics
polypathic ecologic
becoming PolyWealthy Therapy.
Messiahs turn Left
to Rightly Prophet
and CoMessiah Right
to EcoProphesy Left
and back again
to revolution Earth ethics upside down,
with SunGod's cooperative rays on top
of Earth's economically rich
deep pie charts
and global graceful synergy spread wide
warm watery reception,
challenging bi-generic tree-ringed contractions
of grace,
karmic abundance,
a Bun Dance away from narcissistic ignorance
Ego's fancy prance,
of why when we each and all come together,
in love's full climaxing bilateral embrace
we turn our identities future side down
a pace
in this HereNow timely space.
We each come to redeem our Ego investment
born of Earth's long-spun
cosmic fun
regenerating narrative,
double negative binding Identity
creating SuperEco-Normic
sticky Bliss
Is not
Love without Beloved,
Beloved without Love
neither alternative could be
me without you
within me
both equivalently
must be
gummy We.
Therapy costs money, but depression is free to kill
You're dreaming of overdosing, but you don't need those pills
I know they take everything away, so it doesn't seem so real
But please don't go, because the worlds needs you still
I've been there before, when it feels like you wont make it
You're trying to be strong for the world, but you can no longer fake it
Your smile is wearing, your nightmares appear more
You're being made fun of, you're wondering what you should care for
Bullies at school are making you feel worthless
You may not know it, but you have a purpose
I overdosed at 17 and I'm here 8 years later
I've learned how to be happy, many tears later
No family, I was passed around foster families
Social workers told me what to do, and I'd react angrily
Bipolar and depression, so they said I lacked sanity
Some of the things that bullies would say, damaged me
I was battling a bunch of demons no one knew about
Self-harming, but my bloody clothes I threw them out
I kept it a secret for a year and a half, I wish I spoke sooner
Looking back at my past, I'm lucky to have this future
Almost 6 years free from self-harm, but I take each day at a time
I realized I'm in control of my happiness, so the past won't stay on my mind
I know you're going through the dark, and you need the light
Take my hand and I promise I'll lead you right
You're scared to speak, because you think no one cares for you
Self-harm, Drugs, alcohol, will pretend to be there for you
But they take you down a dark road, you'll struggle to come back from
The battle you're going through, you'll look back at and say that's a battle I won
I was told I'd be dead by 21, but I've made it to Twenty five
Now I'm full of pride and confidence, when before I was empty inside
Depression is a liar, you are worth more
I've been so focused on good things I can't feel the pain from before
Giving up is never an option, there's never a reason
Go for a walk, draw, paint, or write your way to freedom
To get through the storm it may take a while
But be strong and don't let anyone break your smile
Therapy costs money, but depression is free to kill
You're dreaming of overdosing, but you don't need those pills
I know they take everything away, so it doesn't seem so real
But please don't go, because the worlds needs you still
The first day of war is the last day of peace
The leaders serve not like ladders anymore
They turn to feathers
And fly away
Because they are the land lords of the nation
The tenants now bear the penance
War is just three alphabets
But can make a tall tree historic round the world
Where there’s war
There’s information
And there’s deformation
Those who are not informed about set bombs,
They get deformed
Some may not be able to perform anymore
Some may die
Some may lie critically ill
But still
The tyrants won’t stop the war
They are the one
They can change the signal
To stop the scandal
I can see
The fighters are tired
They want to retire
But who will stop the war
Hey you tyrant
It’s time for retirement
Weapon is the subject
On a sunny day
You fight
On a beautiful ‘MTN’-yellow Day
You fight
On a dark night
You don’t need light
You stay tight
Ready to fight,
You hide in agility
When you think the war is over
It just begun
See amoured car in the boulevard
War
Noise everywhere
Who is safe?
I guess none
What is war?
War is when one is killed
Two are killed
Mother and father die
The murders fly away like they have feathers
Shading of blood everywhere
Oh! My God
A king handles a gun
No matter how thin a slave looks, he handles a gun
They need people to fight
Who are they?
‘The tyrants’
Just say yes,
And you are sent to the war front
He who is in the war front
Knows he’s dying at anytime
But a strong soldier stays
A strong soldier is looking forward to vanquishing his enemies
And a strong soldier is looking forward to saving his people from shame of defeat
Oh! What a brave soldier
When there’s nothing close to you,
Your gun is right beside
Always ready to pull the trigger
Chei! What war can cause
War keeps one restless
What a great stress that can cause a distress
Oh my mistress
Don’t vex when you miss me
Am in the war front
But I assure you one thing
I am coming back because I am a great soldier
Feel sober always expect me knocking
War could be fun
But when you’re not prepared
You can’t prevail
Go and prepare
For you to prevail
The fun of war lies on the winning days
A good or smart soldier fight his way out without injury,
And a great soldier is rushed to therapy
Where is the wound that war gave you?
Ambush is the ambition of the gorillas
Revelations about Dad’s infamous midnight lectures...
woke up courtesy therapy
Especially during past session
on May eighth
two thousand twenty one
between the hours of five and
six o'clock post meridiem.
Between three and four score years ago
the following poetic ill winds did blow
yours truly felt like carrion
repurposed courtesy black crow
decimated to bajillion pieces
analogous to deaf eat, viz bitter foe
where within bared mine soul
telltale toxin did glow
yes dear reader cumulative wrath – hello
synopsis I invite thee to know
why self esteem within me so low
lackluster love life accentuated
cuz yours truly
never kissed under mistletoe
Dreadful homelife upon
exiting early adolescence
no bed of roses parental
wrath did commence
me (especially after
graduating bottom 1%)
scorned as among lowlife
versus being among
productive vested gents
I withstood blistering, mortifying
withering howling offense
yours truly uttered nary a peep.
I dreaded every malevolent utterance
when father requested he speak
not about some choice topic dejure
brought a twinkle to my eye,
but that all to familiar monologue
finding me standing like stone wall
hearing, tuning out with equally
predictable trademark demurely meek
pose with hands crossed against
chest of the then easily intimidated guy
despite feeling effects of utter ennui
and fatigue attempted to stand tall
against the tsunami verbal typhoon
itching to drown out said battle creek
when asked capisce? comprende? farshtayst?
looked blankly at floor well nigh
or pretended to stare at something extreme
fascinating on the kitchen wall
for he may as well asked if I understand
in an unfamiliar language such as Greek
most likely getting successful results
yammering away at common house fly
possibly seething inside (p’raps
equally swatted) ready to lash out into a brawl
held back by fear plus
in comparison to me pop –
just a itty bitty pipsqueak,
who felt onrushing and overpowering
desire to collapse and cry
compounded by growing urge
to urinate from that natural urethral call
spoke nada word, nor gave hint
of hearing from loathsome blather that did reek
like decomposition of fetid of dead
living entity that began to putrefy
which offal to mine ears, tugged impetus
under warm blankets to crawl!
Why can I not write?
I am overwhelmed
By the minutiae of everyday life!
Dawn comes, and I awake, but no!
I pull the covers over my head
And close my eyes tightly
Against the coming day.
I am not ready yet!
When I can avoid it no longer
I sit up and dress, reluctantly,
Take the dog out, bring
Him in and feed him,
Give him fresh water.
Give him his pills and
Spray his poor shaven rat tail
With anti-itch lotion,
(He has a hot spot!)
And put some ointment on it.
I fix some breakfast,
Wash it down with yesterday’s coffee.
Take the cats some fresh water,
Get them their breakfast,
And clean the litter,
Wipe Sweetie Pie’s eyes
And put drops in them.
I’ll comb out both Sophie
And Sweetie Pie later on.
I make my bed and
Clean up the dishes,
Get out my big green backpack
And put Doug’s clean clothes in it.
Oops! I forgot to start the laundry
I brought home yesterday!
It’s already 10:30, and I
Have to leave by five to eleven!
Spray on the sun lotion,
Check that I have my Patriot ferry
Pass and the SPF 50 lip balm
Doug asked me to get.
It’s hot and humid, but I trudge
Twenty minutes to the ferry
For the half-hour boat ride
That I actually enjoy!
Just me, the water, sun and breeze
For 30 minutes of quiet
For my not-so-peaceful mind.
Three hours to have lunch with Doug,
Bring him up-to-date with
All the news of friends and family,
Watch him in physical therapy
And learn what I will have to do
In a few weeks when he gets home!
Back to the van, back to the Patriot ferry,
And another brief time for myself.
I walk home, hot and tired.
Take Andy out, finish the laundry
And hang it out on the line.
I think it won’t rain tonight.
Run to the store for some
Necessities, cat food in particular,
Check the e-mail, answer some notes,
Water the parched garden
Take Andy for a walk, and
Then feed him his dinner.
Time for MY dinner, but what?
Let’s see. I sauté a couple of
Chicken tenders in the small pan,
Slice up a whole tomato,
Add some cantaloupe and cottage cheese,
Eat some of it and fall asleep
In the chair in front of the
Fan on its highest setting.
I wake up with a start and make
Myself get up and clean up the kitchen,
Afterwards, I watch a couple
Of mindless television shows
While I make mental lists
Of what I have to do tomorrow.
Iain McGilchrist,
neurological psychologist,
builds on previous findings of Edward De Bono
and Julian Jaynes.
Human nature is bicamerally structured
for cerebral and appositional specialization,
inclusive and sacred empathies from Elder Right matriarchal,
with deductive-reductive linguistic natural laws
and patriarchal orders from Left hemisphere dominant enculturation.
This Left dominant hemispheric and global overshoot
has brought us to buying and selling military-industrialized colonization
with appropriate tools
to get deductive-reductive killing and maiming jobs done,
as necessary for justice in self-justifying wars
through metaphysical Win-Lose
Either-Or cognitive-emotive assumptions,
retributive justice.
As if punishment were a monopoly of social justice
rather than a rather poor suboptimization
of restorative therapeutic justice,
also both natural and spiritual
but for restoring health,
inclusive therapy of victims with our predative,
colonizing,
fear and anger-mongering,
commodifying of Earth's greatest sacred grace,
gifts of clean air,
pure water,
sacred healing fire-circles of WinWin intent,
healthy MotherLand fertility
of forests and virgin oceans
now horribly RightBrain lost,
depressed,
dissonant,
irrational pathologies
of too many bad boys
with sharp law and order enforcing toys,
and word choices,
and lack of more nurturing WinWin diplomatic options.
Fears and fake-divine idolatries
of HellFire and Jihad JustWar BrimStones
to punish those who dare defy
a Great Patriarchal YangGod of Victimization
rather than inviting available cooperative bicameral adjustments
of ego- with eco-conciousness,
to include Elder Sacred MotherEarth
born of Grandfather SunGod Radiant Powers.
Gaia hypotheses of Sacred RightYin
with EcoLogical PolyPaths of SecularLeft Yang,
co-arising nondual dipolar,
bicamerally dynamic ecopolitical prime relationship
of Yang +1Earth and Her Balancing EcoSystems
with YinSquared (-,-)0-Soul Theorem
equivalent to speed of reverting 4D light,
co-arising as also having co-gravitated
universal unity of space as also bilateral flow of time,
YangHere SecularLeft reweaving YinNow SacredRight,
breathing YangLeft here in,
breathing YinRight now out,
here in,
now out,
up,
down,
up and in YangLeft,
down and out YinRight...
Eldest daughter – I Praise
Twenty two years ago
December twenty second,
two thousand eighteen
"star student" born
this papa (and most
likely thee birth mother)
initially felt ecstatic,
dramatic (yes frenetic),
and careworn
as freshly minted parents,
but gifted with a daughter,
whose existence far
more precious
than any Earthborn
rare widgets, gewgaws,
gems, et cetera, despite
evoking unsolicited,
unpleasant, and
unmanageable forlorn
communication "dirt poor"
living (at least ten years
of wretchedness at 1148
Greentree Lane) unable
to toot your horn,
cuz unbearable, undesirable,
unforgettable, et cetera,
and manifold challenged ,
when beloved Shana
Punim evinced inborn
developmental delay,
(which severe electric
koolaid acid test
patience of this father),
much more difficult
than playing krummhorn,
now after tendering the trials
and tribulations, an
amalgamation of
poignant affects,
whereat your
permanent presence...
(must never NOT precede mine),
cuz..., I would definitely mourn,
your absence, thus felt the timely
opportunity to dash off
a birthday poem to you
in tandem with sharing,
(while comfortably numb
and figuratively licking war
torn psychological wombs) - torn
and ripped, queued,
peppered natty psyche
pockmarked with scorn
from self, (and those lives,
this dada immediately
impacted) particularly
your person roar'n
with cumulative anger toward
this insightful fellow,
(who claims to know
what thee feel toward me),
especially when ****
hours of valuable
time, now caught
(say, eh...approximately, fraught
upon the half life of rare Earth
element Eden), not
just strictly naught
heard thru the grapevine,
but forcing Math (hew)
analysis, via meditation, poetry
writing therapy, et cetera.
Hence...I apologize,
asper unasked for pain wrought
thee, sans being unemployed,
demeaning "mother Abby,"
bumbling, horrid house
keeper (Hagrid himself,
would turn down invitation),
plus Facebook fiasco,
imbroglio, and locomotive -
complicit in behavior
comparable to pedophile,
yet please let me conclude
by admitting total lack
of wherewithal.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAUGHTER!