He was fearful that if he fell asleep,
lithium batteries in his cells would leak.
A new prescription his psychiatrist wrote
and that's how he started on Depakote..
His ups and downs were hard to endure.
One day he seized on the kitchen floor.
There wasn't a history of seizures before.
In time he grew so darn depressed that most
mornings he could barely get dressed.
His psychiatrist put him on Vraylar.
Soon he was flying high, like a rock star.
Eventually became delusional and wrecked his car.
The psych. scribbled while drumming one thumb,
and put him back on his Lithium.
People stop blaming "the elevator man."
He's taking his meds. He sticks to the plan.
I’d like an hour with a psychiatrist
To discover what I already know
A deep releasing conversation
Go places I dare not go
I’d lie back on a chaise lounge
I don’t care if it’s a woman or a man
I’d go deep into the recesses
As truthfully as I can
Maybe then I could sleep peacefully
Though I confess I’ve done nothing bad
I would understand who I really am
A piece of mum and dad.
My inner thoughts and fears
And all the things that scare
Maybe I’d burst into tears
Maybe, there's nothing to repair?
David Cox 01/07/22
All drugs have the potential to be harmful
We know ourselves more than doctors and Psychiatrists
Some drugs have irreversible side effects
Especially drugs that are purposely and forcefully given
Adverse effects may include long term mental effects
Short term extensive health problems and hallucinations
These drugs slowly and rapidly push us on the verge of collapse...
Note. Stay out of reach of underlings, mobsters and impostors.
Short Poem
Swines call me crazy and pigs call me mad
Very sad very sad and very bad very bad
This ain't gonna work because I am their dad.
Note. There are three lines in the Poem and nine words in each line.
Lesson. 3 x 9 = ?
Don't use psychoanalysis on poetic friends!
You have no degree, and you never spent even one hour
with them, personally.
If you possess no degree, or never worked in psychiatry,
Be their friend, stop being Dr. Sigmund Freud.
Be a friend, unequivocally!
A poem is an expression of a poet's heart in rhyme.
Analyze the poem, not the poet.....
Better to accept and to love them in real time!
2/24/2021
~1~
Ever take one of those psychological stress quizzes
With one of those psychiatrist
Know-it alls?
Me neither.
Ever gonna?
Me neither.
What would be the point?
Oh, my GAWD! You should be depressed.
Stern look.
I’m not.
Then something is wrong with you.
Thanks.
That will be $150.
You may pay my receptionist on your way out.
That’s it?
Yes, this was your intake session.
I get the receptionist’s phone number on the way out.
We are having coffee so she can tell me more about the
Awful psychiatrist she works for.
I do not feel badly about giving her a
Check that will bounce.
We know that Father Christ is Eternal God
Father Christ is Jesus Christ
Called Him Father Christ
In Catholic Church, we call the priest Father [name of the priest]
I thought that we call the priest “Father” to represent Father Christ
But no Catholic supports me
They said there is only but one Father in heaven
Know that
Question is “why are we calling Catholic priest Father”
Father Christ reminded my heart or mind that “Reverence is for the Righteous”
I have to continue propagating “Father Christ”
Told my Psychiatrist
Spoke to mom about “Father Christ”
She said I can’t force people
He said that I understand that
Father Christ is careful with my Psychiatrist
He’s careful to declare I’m sick of some sort
Didn’t want to propagate “Father Christ”
Was reminded that “Reverence is for the Righteous”
Continue on propagating “Father Christ”
Written: 8052018
Poetry Form: Free Verse
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Listening never heard
Watching never seen
Relating unrelated
Screening behind a screen
Eyes
white lights in a blue pool
maybe one watt
Voice
warm soothing
a computerized hum
Thoughts mechanized
Battery recharged every hour
on the hour
Grown man
Alone man
Stone man
6/28/17
Another Psychiatrist With Consult
He wanted to start a new movement
Until down commode all of it went
And never learned how to use a brush
Without a doubt did forget to flush.
Can't wait to see White House condition
Use latrine I must have their permission
You guessed what there me did greet
Was commode with a raised seat.
On yourself have to get good grip
When into toilet you should slip
Each of your issues they did table
Being completely available and able.
Bathroom appeared to be so plush
Color of face experienced a rush
Becoming very red was final result
With one more psychiatrist will consult.
Consulting with psychiatrists and psychologists
started to become habit forming when out
of office you had to start storming.
Jim Horn
Just lay back, relax and enjoy the humor.
Forget about politics. Laugh a lot and learn
poem writing new tricks which you should
do to get all of your kicks.
A psychiatrist said to his patient,
“Your neuroses are still only latent.
But what’s becoming acute,
And makes that point moot,
Are your psychoses, which are all very flagrant.”
My psychiatrist makes me laugh,
because he laughs at me.
I have a odd personality you see.
He laughed when I told him
my heart almost burst.
From stress of course.
I'm better now in mind and body.
My gaiety must be infectious.
He laughed and became raucous.
We agreed it was best
if we met no more.
Then laughed some more.
Thank you Dr. O Donnell,
For looking after me so well.
Letting me have a voice.
Treating me so swell.
It's thrilling to be in control
of my mind once more.
If you are obsessive-compulsive, please press 1 repeatedly.
If you are co-dependent, ask someone to press 2 for you please.
Press 3, 4, 5, and 6 if you have multiple personalities.
If you happen to struggle with ADHD
just press..hey look over there. A little kitty!
If you are paranoid-delusional, don't press anything at all.
Just stay on the line and we'll trace the call.
If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully to the little voice in your head
and it will tell you eventually which number to press.
If you are anxious, just start pressing numbers at random.
If you are phobic, don't press anything.
If you are manic-depressive, whatever number you press really won't matter
because the bottom line is no one will ever answer.
If you are **** retentive, I've been told
to put you indefinitely on hold.
Lines for a Female Psychiatrist
Perhaps when I’m better I’ll discover
you aren’t married, after all,
and I should be better by Spring.
On that day I’ll walk
down Michigan Avenue
and up again along the Lake,
my back to the wind, facing you,
my black raincoat buttoned to the neck,
my collar a castle wall
around my crew cut growing in.
Do you remember the first hour?
I sat there unshaven,
a Martian drummed from his planet,
ordered never to return.
With your legs crossed,
you smoked the longest cigarette
and blinked like a child when I said,
“I’m distracted by your knee.”
The first six months you smoked
four cigarettes a session
as I prayed out my litany of escapades,
each detail etched perfectly in place.
The day we finally changed chairs
and I became the patient
and you the doctor,
you knew that I didn’t know
where I had been,
where I was then,
and even though my hair
had begun to grow in
how far I'd have to go
before I could begin.
Donal Mahoney
"Tell me your ten happiest moments,
from birth through all your years."
ensconced he sat behind his desk,
stroking his Freudian beard.
"Take your time, my dear, and think,
just tell me when you're done."
I swear, for the life of me,
I couldn't think of one.
That Christmas when I was four
and all my hopes were dowsed,
I had asked for a train set,
but got a cheap doll house.
My mind shuffles through the years,
like a worn out deck of cards,
I remember all my beloved pets
that I buried in the yard.
I remembered unseen entities,
always lurking in the gloom,
and the poltergeist who threw things
sometimes clear across the room.
I remembered almost dying
when I was only five,
the scars on the outside
and the deeper ones inside.
Oh, boy, I'm on a roll now,
as the inner visions flood,
of splattered brains and bullets,
parental blood instead of love.
"Good God, this is a waste of time,
and frankly, it's quite painful,"
with steepled hands the Freudian doc
stared blankly at the table.
©Danielle White
Please don’t ask me what I don’t want to tell
Say something is wrong, as you should know well
You think I’m a nut, and that’s ok
Cause I know I’m one, and oh, by the way
Help me get my meds adjusted, before I loose my mind
Illness that I am fighting now, sure seems to be unkind
Another antidepressant, to add to my daily grind
Taking all these happy pills just so I won’t lose my mind
Really now, doctor, what more can you do
I am having to trust God an you
Say something more is wrong with me
Tell, me now, doc, and don’t let it be.
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