Dear Poet Friend, I have tried to render a true story in verse, which our school teacher had told us way back in the 1950s! If you like it,
kindly re-post the same. Thanks, - Raj Nandy            

           ON THE PSYCHIATRIST’S COUCH !
A man under depression met a psychiatrist one day,
And began to speak as on the couch he lay.
“Doc I feel depressed all day, as if a pall of mist is
surrounding me,
I move around like a lifeless robot you see;
I wonder what has come over me?”

The doctor said, “Cheer up my friend, from your
daily routine you must now take a break!
A new circus has come to town, and there is that
famous Grock the jovial clown.
His antics will make you laugh your guts out.
For Laughter is the best medicine for you no doubt!”

But the sad old man with his long drawn face,
Was not impressed with what the Doctor said.
He got up from the couch with a frown,
And said, - “Doctor I am Grock, that circus clown !”
                                                -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.

There once was a man
Who wore pantaloons
His exotic tastes also
Included baboons
He took them to the city
To make them look pretty
Now he's locked up with the loons

i’m typing this
as i’m waiting for you to get back
from the bathroom.
in the starbucks
cozy acoustic music is playing
and your mocha frappucino
half empty
is on the table in front of me.
your lips have touched the lid
and i don’t want to be
that person
but i wonder.
i wonder how it feels
does it know that it’s lucky.
can it tell me its secrets
how does it do that?
get you to open up
and let inside the warmth?
i’m not jealous.
just curious.

you should be back any second now.
you might walk out
back to our cliche little table
and ask me
what i’m doing
what i’m typing so furiously
what i’m so passionate about.
i will want to say you.
i love you
right here right now right time right place
i won’t though

maybe i’ll say
“i forgot to finish this paper
that’s due at 11:59 tonight”
or maybe i’ll say
“i just got an urgent email
about my political science class tomorrow”
or maybe i’ll say
“an old elementary school friend
just sent me a Facebook message
and i need to reply”

or.
or maybe i’ll say
“nothing.
nothing more important than our coffee.”
maybe i’ll just close my laptop
mid-sentence
because it’s true.

nothing is more importa

i fear that the beauty you see in me
will fade
as soon as you see me undressed
i fear that our forever
won’t be as long as you promised
once you get a taste of my lips
and i blame myself
for not being enough for you
when in reality
i am full
and you are empty
you try and empty me
in order
to fill yourself
i beg you
please
don’t empty me

Mentally selfish.
Emotionally broken.
Physically scared.
The devils token.

Slaughter of happiness.
****** of hearts.
Strictly demented.
Your torn apart.

Pain as satisfaction.
Madness is all’s strength.
A want to give up.
But you’ve left it to faith.

My voice shrank and my entire body sclerosed to stone
when you lifted a hand because I was never sure
if this time would be the time
you took it too far.

The air left my alveoli, travelled through my bronchioles, trachea,
and out through my clenched teeth as you walked out the door,
safe to escape from my lungs because fear
had paralyzed my diaphragm and
overstimulated my amygdala.

It was always a vicious cycle:
My limbic system remembered the monster that escaped your ribcage
when the rage inside that was instilled in you to win wars
that was never fully extinguished came through
yet the same system processed the love I felt
when you played peek-a-boo with my niece on the grass;
even my brain wasn’t sure what we wanted.

Four weeks had passed since:
I said goodbye to our cat because he was yours now,
I took the trinkets I had scattered to make it our home
rather than your place where I stayed,
I erased sloppy alcohol-kissed love notes from the whiteboard
where I wrote the therapy reminders you ignored.

My mailbox filled with emails riddled with depression and  
post-traumatic stress and worry manifested as a knot in my throat
that made it impossible to breathe so I searched for any spare key
and drove the twenty-seven miles to ensure your safety.  

I grasped the doorknob hard enough to trigger Pacinian corpuscles
throughout my skin, terrified of what was just beyond the threshold.

How to never stop being alone?

Don't greet strangers,
not even a smile
Keep yourself silent,
let awkwardness sink in for a while

Fall for someone,
Make them cling on to you,
Once they poured their heart and soul,
Start replying their messages after a day or two

Soak yourself in that pile of ego,
you're better than everyone, right?
Spend your time behind the screens,
Feed your self-pride even just a bite

Avoid the ones close to you
They're not worth your time
Lie to yourself "got better things to do"
Maybe you'll get to start a rhyme

Go for drive, even just for a while
Clear your head, enjoy the scenery
Surely it pops up once in your mind
You're better off alone, stick to that theory

That's how you stay alone

sz

I'm sorry I can't get out of bed in the morning.

My head is so full of thoughts, always a mess.

I'm sorry I'm quiet a lot,

I don't like to talk in front of my peers.

I'm sorry I'm distant a lot.

I feel like I disappoint everyone who I know.

I'm sorry I'm sad, and have to go to therapy.

I can express my feelings there, when I'm sad.

I'm sorry I want to end my life,

Things just aren't the same anymore.