Therapy Poems - Poems about Therapy

I have never heard my mother express her love for my father. Perhaps after having seven children, she lacked the energy to articulate those sentiments. Many women convey their emotions through their unique forms of expression. I find myself questioning whether it was unwise to have loved someone deeply. I composed a piece reflecting on...

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Therapy session 4 In the profound darkness of a frigid night, I can hear his labored breathing. He appeared to be worn out yesterday. Today, I find myself fatigued by the wounds of love, exhausted by my inability to trust in this concept we call love completely . Love is meant to be gentle; love is meant...

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I woke with blood in my mouth and no memory of the scab that sealed the rasure. I’m cat-spitting dog-growling peregrine-divebombing rooster-flogging badger-flipping hornet-stinging wolverine-ripping mad. I fired the sun for showing up late cursed the fridge light until yogurt soured in terror. God called I let it ring twice. The therapist said breathe so I swallowed my tongue now I speak in the language of things with canines. coyote-howl syntax vulture-vowel decay the guttural grammar of...

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a degree and he knows it all summarizes me in a nanosecond has me all figured out simplified into a likely story for someone else perhaps but no sir, not for me casually randomizing careless comments tossed into a common salad the maestro takes words and plays them back askew creating his own new melody with all his pomp and arrogance he is the type that gives the profession...

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**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...

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——————————————————————————- t he pool’s push l X l and pul l b reaststroke or l X l...

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I'm a poet And I don't know it My rhyme destroys My pen is poised To trickle out Some tale about A butterfly Or sunset sky As sweet as jam With rhythm slam Dunk in your tea My soliloquy I'm a poet Happy to show it So on your bike As I drop the mic You may have guessed If you passed the test As you peruse This...

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Black people don't do therapy You'll be seen As a failure They say we don't share out business with 'strangers' But those 'strangers' are usually their children's saviours They are like a safe place Something their parents never gave them A safe haven See what these black parents don't realise That if they don't start paying attention To their children They'll lose them forever All because...

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There’s something good about having this brain. I like having a stain. Sunday closes a lot of things. As if businesses have wings. There’s no such thing as a twenty dollar bill. There’s no chatter on that window sill. Laughing is all I wish to do. You can’t shatter all my glue. They gave me...

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better ways to heal therapeutic poetry~ a dance of feelings spoken verse trending curbs obsessive impulses~ when we meditate breathe in and speak out demolish your obsessions~ share and overcome ...

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Art & music therapy provides a creative outlet for expressing feelings of anxiety, helping us visualize process our worries I also find poetry therapy as well I write and then recite it back to myself…. shall there be fingers snapping at the end of this recital? I just must wait and see There is this, ...

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Pull the shades Dim the lights Hear the snores No response Just the crickets My art dulls you? It's my therapy ...

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Returned to the wooded place I shed tears where speaking out loud without any fears had no shame or guilt attached to the spew birds deer fairies fae gathered by the few looking on from afar allowing my release so I can continue my self-healing in peace it was therapy for my soul without any pay evaluating how far I have come...

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At a certain point You just learn Not to take The cheese....

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His hands are trembling, his gait a shuffle, sometimes his voice is no more than a muffle. His balance is off, he’s had many falls, sometimes to begin walking, there’s several stalls. Some days are good, others are fair; some days it seems like his mind is hardly there. He’s so optimistic, despite his condition; to help him...

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