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vera Feb 2018
i am a madwoman
so mad that i lay awake at night
and wonder whether youre mind
is racing as fast as mine
looking to win first place
and land in the depths of my happiness

i am a madwoman
so mad that i wander through the day
aimlessly strolling
from store to store
looking for the perfect distraction
while secretly hoping that i am yours

i am a madwoman
so mad that i pick up my phone
every now and then and call you
just to check if youre still there
because my mind can’t seem to forget you yet

i am a madwoman
so mad that i plunge myself into every minuscule task
working for a bone, like a dog
to avoid the gruesome possibilities
that i know are most likely true

i am a madwoman
because a madwoman can convince herself
of the impossible

and i have managed to convince myself
that you love me
- insane journals
Miranda Huff  Jul 2017
Miranda Huff Jul 2017
I started as a madwoman deep in my heart,
The paint on my face,
The stick figure on paper.

I kept going like a madwoman,
The school pencils as my main utensils,
And the lined paper as my trusty canvas.

I gave up like a madwoman,
Blinded by society,
And believing that I'd never be content.

I broke through the barriers like a madwoman,
Scribbling left and right,
And embracing the drive for betterment.

If I can just continue on,
Unsettled and free hands running,
I'll always be happy to be a madwoman.
Haruka  Aug 2014
Haruka Aug 2014
somewhere in between
the lost voices echoing
in my heart of hearts
and the burning in the
back of my eyes as you
told me your goodbyes,
i lost my sanity.
and i guess that it's my fault
for loving you so recklessly,
and it's my fault for carving
the image of you smiling
under the august sun
into the walls of my worn out heart.
because ever since you left
i spend hours in the shower trying to
scrub away your ghostly fingertips
from my skin
but at night i claw at the places
you touched most,
trying like a madwoman to feel
your presence once again.
i say your name like a mantra
that governs the very existence
of my consciousness
and some days i feel the bile
rise in my chest as I hear
your name on the street.
i am tired of empty eyes
and trembling bones.
i am tired of being a ghost
of the girl i once was
and if i'm being honest
-and i am-
you were my beginning
as well as my ending.
so how do you expect a person
to go on when all the air
has been pulled from their lungs?
these days in the spaces between my sheets
i still smell your musky cologne
and i spend hours heaving out
memories that i had etched into
the marrow of my bones.
i am a madwoman
that lost herself in a fire
of loveless eyes and passionate
i am a madwoman.
i am just a madwoman.
nivek Sep 2015
I think I may have a small insight into that manic madman, madwoman,
you know the one; love potions and abortions all at the same time.
He, She, obviously reads poetry here and taking it all literally thinks we are all in need of a witchdoctor to cure us from love lost, love to gain, or purge us of any love child.
I am bound to her by blood,
this madwoman of a city
with eyes that see
a comatose heart, with no feeling.

One, two, three hundred,
a thousand —
we are all carbon copies
of her silicone *******, collagen cheeks
teeth bleached whiter
than the pearls we adorn ourselves with.

I was a child
when I left this madwoman,
mother of my younger years.
I left her drinking cuba libres,
stirring ice with her finger,
her nails crimson red.

I said, “Goodbye, I am leaving you.”
She turned her face back to the barrio
and said, “Adios, Muchacha.”

Years later, I look back on my youth.
I remember her as the mother I lost
the sister I never had
the woman I was afraid to become.

If only she knew
how easy she was to leave
how difficult she was to forget.
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


"Her weapons were her crystal eyes... driving every man mad... (dark) as the dark night she was... had what no one else had..."

Upon first meeting with Marilyn the first thing I was struck by were her eyes. If the eyes are the windows of the soul, hers were the stained glass of Winchester Cathedral. They were absolutely beautiful. Polished obsidion orbs that seemed to have an inner light for all their blackness. The second thing I noticed were her teeth. Strong. Perfectly even, and glistening white. Lastly her height and *figure
. Again, I shall use the Winchester Cathedral metaphor... she was positively that... not just a brick house, she was marble! Cantilevered, with flying buttresses everywhere! WOW!

Now, I'm not a lesbian. But if I were, Marilyn would have been in trouble! I was to notice flaws in her looks as time went on. Her thick, shiny raven hair was poorly cut, and her face, while striking, was not all that beautiful. Her features were even and well proportioned, but she was not a classic beauty.  She was of arabic/caucasian liniage. If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I noticed these imperfections because I was somewhat envious. She was a man-magnet. Ms Pac-Man! I'm not an ugly woman. But I couldn't hold a candle to Marilyn!

As fate would have it, I became her "twin". We were on the buddy system at the beginning of our Sea Org training, and I was paired up with Marilyn. As luck would have it, we hit it off. Even though I felt like a shadow next to her light, I also really liked her. And she liked ME. She never lorded her looks over me. Her brilliant smile could melt the stoniest heart. And we enjoyed the same things. Though she was no artist, she really appreciated art. I actually drew her portrait (which she kept and framed, she told me many years later). We would take long walks around the Hollywood area, and, when time allowed, went to the beach. Santa Monica Pier. She had a droll sense of humor which i could appreciate, and i made her laugh, too. We got along very well.

Our Mission, should we decide to accept it (or NOT), was to write letters to people who had, at one time, been interested in scientology, or the Sea Org (not necessarily in that order). We were told that we to up our "statistics" daily. All jobs were measured statistically. Now, even at THAT age, I knew the Samuel Clemmons quote, "There are lies. **** lies. And statistics." But i thought it prudent not to mention that to anyone.

So, we were to write letters. We worked out a system for staying "upstat". We figured if we wrote LONG letters, and took breaks at first, then wrote shorter letters as time went on we could "beat the system". So we did. We never competed with each other. I was slightly faster than she (I'm a writer, obviously) but she didn't care. I could write. But she could spell. I was never good at that (I HAVE autocorrect on my phone, lol!).

Our I/C (in charge) never really bothered us. We were "upstat". So we joked around and had fun with it. We were allowed to go out and have a little time off occasionally.
I remember going to see the first STAR WARS movie with Marilyn and another dude who was totally smitten with her. She didn't even feign interest, even if he WAS very funny, and good looking in a diminutive way. But he was around her in a holding patern! Like a hummingbird to a honeysuckle! Shaharizade had mesmerized him with her seven veils! But the poor man never got anywhere. So he started to evince interest in me! But got nowhere in that arena either! Poor dude! So, that's how it worked. Marilyn would draw masculine attention. And, eventually, I would be "second pick". Oh, well. I knew better than to "get involved". There was a strict rule about "fratenization". A polite term for ***". THAT was VERBOTEN! It was grounds for RPF, should the partners be unmarried. And since I had NO desire to marry any of them, those dudes were out o luck.

Time went on. FRU  (Flag Recruit Unit) didn't seem so bad! And then there was the lure of my final destination. Flag Land Base... Finally I was ready to take my

...*1,300 mile Greyhound bus!
The next installment in my tail will be a poem I wrote a while back. I went 1300 miles by myself from Los Angeles California to Clearwater Florida. Actually to Tampa as there was no bus to Clearwater. I had a harrowing ride from Tampa to Clearwater over the Tampa Bay Causeway... but that's another story...


I'm sorry if I haven't read your poetry lately. I've been very busy writing this book. And I've been going down repost rabbit holes. I'm sure you can relate! I love you guys! This is the best poetry site ever! I'll be reading again soon...

♡ Catherine
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

What you are about to read *will
shock you. Some may find it extremely disturbing. I will tell you from the outset, also, that i am quite "insane". According to the psychiatrists "******-Affective". Manic-Depressive with Paranoid features.
I will freely admit that what you will read here will sound crazy. But please read on. It may be horrifying. It may be weird. It may seem extremely paranoid. But it still interests.

It is my desperate hope that you will read. And believe me. For, my "diagnosis" notwithstanding, I am as sane as the next "normal" person. I AM NOT A LUNATIC! What you are about to read really happened. To ME. It has plot twisting tension that could be put to the credit of Alfred Hitchcock. And a psychological horror that Steven King could emulate. How could I compare my writing to the genius of those great & talented men? I don't. Because, dear readers, I did not conceive of it. It was done to me. I merely convey the technology and techniques used to make any "normal person" appear a ****** Toon of 50 mile high proportions! It exists. And it is excruciatingly painful to be the subject of it.

So why would a girl from a comparatively small city, with no seeming accomplishments to commend her, and is actually quite unimportant, be the subject of such hateful torment? What has she done? I will convey ALL of the reasons. I did play a part in it. I had a tri-fold lawsuit against a once-high-profile video dating club, who wanted to prevent litigation by thoroughly discrediting me. And I had a very virulent and hateful foe...

*The "Church" of SCIENTOLOGY.
I've decided to present my story on social media. There is NO TIME TO WASTE. There are hundreds, perhaps THOUSANDS of perfectly SANE people in the mental health system, perhaps in hospitals... even PRISONS for the CRIMINALLY INSANE who need for this story to GET OUT.

I'm probably throwing myself under the bus. I don't CARE. THE PEOPLE NEED ME. AND THEY NEED Y O U.


You will see before and after targeting photos of me on Twitter and Facebook.  The names I go by are SoulSurvivor II and Cathy Jarvis respectively.

I'm sorry,  but I must be working on this 24/7. I have no time to read or write poetry.  It is SO IMPORTANT that I get this done quickly. The "Powers That Be" WILL want to silence me. I want it DONE before that happens. Thanks for understanding!

♡♡♡ I LOVE YOU! ♡♡♡

Catherine Jarvis
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection


Now I can hear you saying to yourselves,
"So. You said you were smart. Why did you get involved with a crazy cult like Scientology?"* Well. Two reasons. 1) I was raised an atheist (Humanist), but had a seeker's soul. I became very spiritual, like I said. I also had a desire to HELP people. Humanity. I still do. But because I had a godless upbringing I was left open to deception. And 2) I found a boyfriend. Or, I should say, he found me. One of Scientology's tried and true methods of recruitment.

I had another friend, a ***** Jewish scientologist (yes, there can be that sort of thing, as you can be "any faith" and still be a scientologist... hmph!). She introduced us. I was impressed by two things. He was an instructor at the "Mission". And he could tell you things that seemed psychic. One of the procedures for impressing people to sign up for classes and "processing" was this. Doug would position you in a certain part of the room. He'd have his back to you. Then he'd tell you to walk away from him... then stop abruptly.
He'd be able to tell you when you stopped! And he could do it every time! This really impressed me. Until I found out he looked into the reflective surface of a large glass covered poster that was on the wall! Lol! What a con artistic magician HE was! HA!

I was totally gone over by the registrar (salesperson). She stuck to me like glue until she FINALLY figured out, Yes! I had NO MONEY! So I didn't get any training or processing. Which was a BIG part of why I stuck around. I didn't even read "Dianetics" by L Ron Hubbard. Doug told me a little about it. But most of his energy was expended trying to get in my pants... a fruitless endeavor to say the least!

He was instrumental in getting me up to Phoenix for the fateful "Flag Orientation Tour". The recruitment campaign which would change my life forever...

*Where I signed my life over to Scientology's Sea Organization for the next BILLION YEARS.
Obviously I broke the contract. How that happened will come in a later installment. If you have not read the first two installments of the story, please go back to them and read them. It's important that you get that background, in order to understand the rest of the story. Yes. I am writing a whole book right here on Hello Poetry.

I'm sorry I'm not reading right now. This book MUST be finished quickly. You'll understand why later on...


♡ Catherine
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


Unlike the pampered, well heeled clients of my "faith", I didn't enter the Fort Harrison Hotel via the opulent main entrance. I made my appearance through the back. The garage entrance was less than hospitable. And, I noticed, there seemed to be people *living
in the cold, drafty motor housing! When I asked about this strange berthing, Noah was much less than forthcoming. "RPF", he mumbled. Well. What's an RPF when it's at home? Then I saw a few of the denizens of said "RPF". I knew very little about it. Only that it was punishment. For people were "out-ethics". WOW. The RPF "sleeping quarters" had bunks three high, and was protected only marginally from the winds that swept through that garage.

There was an RPF person who was coming through the breezeway as I entered. He stepped aside very deferentialy, and said, "Excuse me, Sirs!" to Noah and I. WOW. I'd never had THAT kind of treatment in my life! I guess I was someone important! This bubble was burst immediately. I met the I/C of the FRU.

She was not in a good mood, as I recall. But, then, who ever really was in this Organization? She DID TRY to be nice. Greeted me clammily, and put on a spurious smile. She recognized I needed sleep, at least. Upon walking through the building, the rooms got more and more posh. I was to get to my berthing through the hotel lobby, apparently. It was grand! But in a sort of an outdated way. I really don't remember much else. Except for the conditions in my sleeping quarters. Only marginally better than the RPF! bunks three high! Junk everywhere (some of the new recruits had yet to figure out that they should cull their possessions to a minimum). Guess who was designated the top bunk? You got it. And moi was not a happy camper! As I climbed the rickety ladder to the top bunk I remember thinking, "How much lower can a person go?"

The time frame I'm writing of is 1977. So long ago! If i don't remember things perfectly, my friends who were there, please forgive me!

I'm trying to process all this again. My memory isn't what it was. I'm writing all this to convey the disparities between the conditions in the Sea Org and the cushy experience of the clients. All THEY saw was friendliness & grandeur. We were like indentured SLAVES. NO LIE.

ESPECIALLY THE RPF.And RPF wasn't the lowest you could go. There was the RPF's RPF! I wondered where THEY slept. In the sewer? I wasn't far wrong...

* RPF: Rehabilitation Project Force

♡ Catherine
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


I was born Catherine Eugenia Jarvis,  and I was a *horrible
child. The kinda kid that you'd LOOK for if she got lost... but NOT very hard. I was the sandwich child. The red headed one. The BAD girl. A terrible tease.

But inside I SO longed to be loved. There just wasn't alot of that to go 'round. Mom was working or sick. And dad worked LONG hours. My sister and I were ***** at age 4 & 3 respectively. She felt guilty she couldn't "protect" me, so she withdrew. Then my little brother was born. He was my sister's little doll. And it wounded me so that I lashed out. I targeted my poor little brother. I called him names, names that I knew went straight to his HEART. I'm weeping now. How I wish I could change the past! Dear reader, I have a samurai tongue. And I knew how to cut where it would hurt the MOST. A fact I'm not at all proud of! But, it happened. I was also mean to my pets. But inside i wept SO bitterly! I did not want to do what I did! But SOMETHING compelled me...

Then at the age of 13 I began to drink. I started using "white crosses". ***. By 14 I was using LSD. ***. Peyote. I was SO out of control!  My poor parents despaired...

Then... a MIRACLE! My parents put me in college when I was 16. I hated high school with a PASSION. I didn't fit in anywhere. Not even with the stoners. I was kicked out of my 10th year for ditching and possession of marijuana. My vice-principle told me I'd always be a LOSER. That I'd never accomplish anything in life. Nice. He put me in Juvie. My parents got a psychologist. He said I was bored in high school because I was too smart. So they put me in college. I THRIVED! I still ditched a bit, but I could take ART CLASSES! And WRITING! POETRY! And MUSIC! And the people were SO different! They LIKED ME! Well. Part of THAT was because I lost weight. About 50 lbs! I was actually pretty. For the first time in my life. And to say THAT was confusing wouldn't be nearly enough.

At any rate, I'd CHANGED. I became very spiritual. I read about Transcendental Meditation. I read the book "Siddhartha". I dabbled in the Self Realization Fellowship.
And, finally, I joined the

"Church" of Scientology.


I was 19 years old.
The first thing I want to say is that I HAVE CHANGED. I'm NOT the mean little girl I was. I've tried all my life to be KIND. To make up for the evil I did as a child. You'll find out. Just read on...

I've been brutally honest for a reason. I want you to understand why my family thought evil of me. They did, but THEY WERE NOT AT FAULT.

.My story continues with my scientology experience. Don't want to miss THAT.

Coming tomorrow...
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


So I had this boyfriend. I don't really know *why
I stayed with him. Except that he was fairly intelligent. He left scientology not longer after I left, I discovered later. But, truth be told, he was NOT attractive to me. He had a lisp. THAT wouldn't have bothered me so much, but he couldn't dance either.... LOL! That was, for some reason, important to me in a man. Always has been. He also had a jaw like a steamshovel and eyes like poached eggs. Oh, well...

Anyway,  he was very excited about a do that was happening up in Phoenix!  There was a brand new ORG!  Scientologese for organization, especially a high echelon one. This Org was the TOP at that time! The Flag Land Base! Located in a once-glamorous resort town, Clearwater, Florida. A place of sugar sand beaches and tropical beauty! There was an Orientation going on, and he wanted me to go with him...

That was the most Fateful night of my life. This FOT (Flag Orientation Tour) was actually a recruitment drive. For the infamous Sea Organization!

When I arrived I was impressed. It was in a conference room at a nice hotel. All the materials they handed me were slickly printed. The only thing that bugged me were the uniforms. The folk not in suit jackets even wore lanyards! That warning sign in my stomach should have told me.... RUN!!! AS FAST AND FAR AS YOU CAN!!! But did I listen? NO! And that was a mistake that cost me 24 precious years of my life. Golden years. Years I could have been in school. College and university. Instead I worked as a peon slave for that CULT. Then 20 years stolen by virulent targeting. TRAGIC!

I stayed. And I was lulled into a false sense of security. The speeches by the various "big-wigs" of FLB didn't start till 9 PM. And lasted till 10:30! Their voices were stern yet sonorous. Hypnotic. They told of the importance and "nobility" of the Sea Org. And the very PINNACLE of importance was the Flag Land Base! in balmy and beautiful Clearwater! Where the BEST and most RESPECTED "auditors" and "trainers" took the adherents of Scientology to the most advanced stage of spiritual growth... OT VIII. SCIENTOLOGY WORKS! YES! YOU, TOO, CAN REACH NIRVANA!

What a bunch of HORSESH-T!!!

Anyway. These guys and gals began to look glamorous to me! With their uniforms and scrambled eggs on their hats...

Then the real kicker. "THEY WERE OUT TO CLEAR THE PLANET. And little miss Cathy Jarvis could be a PART of this Noble Cause. That was it. I bought it. Hook. Line. And SINKER.

Even the hard, pockmarked face of the recruitment officer, nor her beady black eyes, could deter me. I was sleepy by that time, and hardly noticed the Contract I signed was for A BILLION YEARS...

I could LEAVE the "Podunk" town I lived in. Go first to spectacular LOS ANGELES... then to...

If you haven't read Parts I, II and III PLEASE do so. This is a book about how scientology used mind control to destroy my life. The lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands of people in mental institutions and even PRISONS may be at stake. Scientology uses mind control techniques to make people appear INSANE. THEY DID IT TO ME.
SøułSurvivør Mar 2017
A tale of Scientology and the
Mental Health System

I'm going to tell a tragic tale
A writ of pain and woe.
I've been to places, reader,
Where folk seldom go.
I'm "insane", I will confess
The "doctors" told me so
But I have art
This I intend to *

I am *going to write this

I've been trying to get help writing a book.
The title is the title of this post.

The "Church" of Scientology has
Manipulated the "mental health" system
For YEARS. They have put people in it to
Either SILENCE or PUNISH them for
Speaking out against them. OR BOTH.


I've been maligned. Threatened.
Brainwashed with very simple
Yet sophisticated forms of MIND CONTROL.
I've been put on medications so heinous
If I told you of their side effects YOU WOULD RETCH.
I've been put through this for 20 YEARS.

Believe me or not,
I really couldn't give a RAT'S ****.
Have a look.

Thanks. LOVE YOU.


— The End —