Dear Poet friends. After reading Dolly Lama’s poem ‘Poetry Helps Heal’, I was reminded of a poem I composed many years ago titled ‘The Healing Power of Poetry’. This poem is not a work of fiction, but based on reality. Hope you like it, and tell your friends to read the same. Thanks, - Raj, New Delhi.


  THE HEALING POWER OF POETRY:
    KNOWN  AS  ‘BIBLIOTHERAPY’

The word Poetry derives from the Greek word ‘poesis’,
Which means ‘a making’ of a literary art form,
Where language is used for its evocative, aesthetic,
and emotional response.
A poem is an emotional-intellectual-physical construct, -
meant to touch its reader’s heart!
Poetry links one individual to another by its
distilled experience.
Through its rhythm of words and imagery,  -
driving away our inner loneliness!

‘Words are the physicians of the diseased mind’, -
Oceanus  tells Prometheus in ancient Greek
Mythology.
Thus the Oracles at Delphi used the healing power
of poetry, -
Through their various ritualistic chants and
incantations;
And tamed many a savage mind into subjugation!

The Roman physician Soranus in the First Century
AD,
Had prescribed poetry and drama for his patients
who were mentally oppressed;
Tragedy for his maniac patients, and Comedy for
the depressed.
The great psychiatrist Sigmund Freud had clarified,
That it was not he but the Poet, who had discovered
the Subconscious Mind!
Freud went on to say that the human mind is a
poetry-making *****;
Focus of ‘poetry for healing’ is self-expression and
growth of the individual.
Whereas focus of ‘poetry as an art’ becomes the
very poem itself!
But both use the same technique Freud had said;
Words, rhythm, metaphors, sound, and images,
But in the end the result is the same.
The word ‘therapy’ comes from the Greek word
‘therapeia’, -
Meaning to nurse or cure through dance, song,
drama or poetry;
Perhaps the divine way to poetic therapy!
It is therefore not surprising that Asclepius, the
Greek God of Healing,
Is the son of Apollo, the God of Poetry and Medicine!

The first hospital for the mentally ill in the American
Colonies,
Was set up in Pennsylvania in 1751, by Benjamin
Franklin.
Where a number of ancillary treatments were used,
Including the writing of poetry and reading it aloud.
Written by the patients who were mentally ill.  @ (see notes)
‘Bibliotherapy’ was the term used for poetic therapy,
Which had become popular during the Sixties and
the Seventies.
It was also effectively used in Group Therapy,
With patients sharing their feeling and emotions,
Providing a release for their inner pain and tension !
The rhythm and repetition of words often created
a hypnotic trance, -
Reaching out to those ‘secret places’ - creating a
bridge, -
To that unconscious mind from which poetry springs!
Friends, in support of what I have just said let me
quote,
Those immortal lines which Robert Frost once wrote;-
“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
  But I have promises to keep,
  And miles to go before I sleep,
  And miles to go before I sleep” # (see notes below)

Foot Notes: ** Initially poetry was ****** recited and also sung to the accompaniment of the lyre. After the invention of  writing, it started to develop its own form. Forms make arrangement out of derangement, harmony out of discord, and order out of chaos!
@= Writings of some of these patients were also published in a newspaper titled “The Illuminator”.
# = Lines quoted above are from Robert Frost’s famous poem, “Stopping by The Woods on A Snowy Evening”, - were extensively
used for poetic therapy at the Hospital.
        All Copy Rights Reserved By the Author Raj Nandy

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using big words to
make you
sound smart,

isn't smart

For if I closed my eyes
I wouldn't of ever saw you
But my open heart
Still, would've let you in
Therefor...
Disaster was inevitable
Pain was destined
Disappointment was always near
But growth was promised.

Light up the medicine to help heal the minds core
Drink up no worries until you don't feel the pain anymore
This ain't addiction
This is conviction
Trying to prove my point to the old and ignorant
But what's the point in such a dull time
Me speaking my mind is probably a federal crime
Allow the vice to loosen up as I raise the price of my forbidden confidence
To say what's on my mind all while dealing with the consequence
Half man and half dead that shuffles through
Feeling alive on a cloud but probably looking dead to you
Hm
Don't take these words for granted
The weak and simple minded will look at them hella slanted
I'm feeling great
Food for thought all stacked on my plate
I see the stars align, old heros who were once great
Imagine if I could pick apart their brains,
I bet we would've relate

Hungry for power - should be hungry for knowledge, like what book can I devour?
Old girls still acting all sour
Claiming I'm not doing ****t
I'm doing everything but you, she just can't cope with it
But back to program back to these Jordan's
Back to the money and back to the slow jams
Nah
Increase my value to issue out more than materialistic value
And see the battle in which my heart, mind, soul all decided to scatter
My heart was beating for certain meaning that my mind couldn't quite understand
And my soul was tired of both of them trying to manipulate the decision of being a certain type of man
Did you struggle?
And feel the faithless wonder disappear?
Praying to god but the devil is constantly whispering all in your ear
Hearing voices, making bad choices but it all apart of growing up.
No one dies a ****** because at some point we all gave a f$@k
High as the alps, lost in my thoughts
Found in my prayers
Wondered if I fell down, who would be there?
Wondering if I have my heart, who else willing to share?
Wondering if I died tomorrow, who would truly care?
Questions we all ask, while trying to complete the task. Are you truly living your life? Are you afraid the good times won't last?
Are you happy right where you are? Don't look at me like that.
You haven't asked yourself these questions until the last time it all went bad...
I bring the realization to life and call you out on your problems
You keep responding with "a new day same ****t" but continue to never solve em.
People these days lack evolution
Settling the new trend - life is the real movie and all ya playing pretend.
I'm playing a role to
And it's called contradiction...
I've yet to try change but expect everyone else to listen?
These words - yes, yes these words are to be nothing more but understood
Turn life into your own - make life what you should.

How do you convince a broken heart that it's completely beautiful?
-Dougie Simps

To a once close friend and a loved sister,

        I feel like I should miss you more than I do at this point in my life. I suppose after the year of drinking I have put us through, the 'us' I knew so well caught on fire and is now a pile of ash. I've managed to collect as much of it as I could before it was swept away, and I keep that in a safe place buried deep in the center of my heart.

        In those ashes are some of our fondest memories we spent together, almost always laughing and having a grand o' time, but now that all feels so distant, like it was many years ago. Sometimes it even feels as though I am remembering a great dream I had, or someone else told me a vivid memory that they shared with someone they called their best-friend, and I wanted a bond like that so much my mind convinced me it was really something I once had.

        It kills me inside to even think about how much I pushed you away but i'm doing what I can now to earn the right to even call you a friend. I know most of the time after this disease consumed my thoughts daily, and I moved out, it seemed as though I stopped caring about you and the friendship we spent our entire life building didn't matter anymore, but thats not the case. I can promise you that much. I understand if you chose not to believe me, because I am a liar, a thief, a cheat, an *******, but most of all an alcoholic. I'm in AA now to learn to change my ways of thinking and to learn what truly caused me to make the decisions I did. I know I need mental help, that much is obvious, and I did choose on my own to get sober and find the help I needed all along.

        My drinking after Chris left me increased drastically, to the point that I couldn't even get out of bed without being in morbid pain and shaking violently, unless I had alcohol to chase down my throbbing throat. At that point I had lost complete control of myself and I didn't really care about anybody but myself. At the same time though, from my understanding at least, you could've forced me to get sober and I would've received the help I needed and shown why what I doing was wrong, yet you deliberated chose not to. That says a lot to me, probably more than you realize. For I know if it had been you in the shoes I was walking around in, I would've used casey's law. You could tell just by looking at me that I was sick, and unable to change on my own. I literally was skin and bones and puked six or seven times a day, I know there is no way you didn't see that at least a couple of times.

        Knowing all of this brings tears to my eyes. It is the reason now why I still don't talk to you much, or really even attempt to keep you up to date with whats going on with me. Yet, at the same time, maybe thats just me being spiteful, I truly can't tell at this point. I do know I miss you quite a lot, but i'm not sure if i'm ready to look you in the eyes after all that has happened, at this point in time. I don't deserve your forgiveness but that doesn't mean I don't want to make amends. Maybe, someday in the future, we will call each other the best of friends, like we did when we were younger, and make more time for each other.

         Until then, I will carry those precious ashes in an air-tight jar,
                   with my chin up, proud of what they stand for.

                                                      -love your sister, the daydream girl