Brian Williams announces on MSNBC
"The President is in a Dark Place."
Why do so many people
Of wealth and means
Have to ignore their own
Mental Health.
What is the SHAME
Of dealing with one's own problem
Before they get
Completely out of Control?
A young man was digging in the trash
Next to an Art Gallery
Here in Denver.
I didn't really think
That there was anything of value in that trash can.
So, I interrupted him by saying,
"Would you like a bar."
I had a few of those Bearded Brothers Bars in my backpack.
He appreciated getting interrupted
From his fruitless search
And gladly took two Bearded Brothers Bars.
He asked me for water.
Well, I have a very wide mouth water bottle,
And he just had an empty bottle of purchased water.
I didn't think it would be easy from me to pour water
From my bottle to his bottle
Without a funnel.
I gave him my change,
And instructed him to get some fresh water
At a gas station instead.
He started talking
And it was all a "word salad".
He didn't make any sense at all,
And I excused myself to go buy some lunch at Parsley
As a person with a psychiatric myself,
Let me tell you
That no one can tell you how to cope
In this crazy world.
When you see someone who can't use his or her mind,
You realize
That your "sins" are infinitesimal.
I'm  spend a bit too much money
On good quality Chinese Food.
I really like to look at
Well-Focused  nude photos
Of beautiful women.
I probably spend too much money
On houseplants
And give too many of them away.
None of these
Amount to the catastrophe  
Of being helplessly incoherent
Out there on the streets.
This Right Wing Conservative Agenda
Of people like President Donald Trump
Doesn't just deprive agencies that serve people with psychiatric disorders of funding.
It also represents  false sense of values.
We need to help everyone to THRIVE.
So, a President who is NOT thriving cognitively himself
Really is in no position
To preach a Gospel of
And side with the Religious Right
On all issues pertaining to sexuality,
Telling women what to do with their bodies.
If President Donald Trump
Was admitted to an Inpatient Psychiatric Ward,
He would give the therapists and psychiatrist
A lot of work!
He would not be rapidly let back out on the streets
Until the staff was sure that he could function
On his own in Society.
If he wasn't so rich,
I guarantee you that Donald Trump
Would be digging in a Trash Can
That has nothing of value in it
Just like the fellow
I helped today.
Terry Collett Apr 21
The Scottish woman
moaned about the medication
being late and the Asian woman
rocked back and forth
on the armchair
with a bone looking grip
looped in her hair.

You were standing with me
by the large window
gazing out
at the trees and fields
covered in snow.

You touched my hand
with yours
and I sensed
the roughness
of the bandage
around your wrist
where you had cut it
and few days before
and the tubby nurse
found you
sitting on the floor
watching the blood
flow out
and the nurse
screamed at you
something she wasn't
meant to do.

"Wish I was out there"
you said
"lying there
like some lone soldier
deep in snow
waiting for death
and what a way to go."
Terry Collett Feb 18
Yiska slides the razor blade
along her wrist
a line of red erupts

drips into the sink
she stares at the wrist bloodied

she takes the razor blade
with her free hand
and wraps it in tissue

and drops
in the lavatory bowl
and presses the flush

and water rushes
the tissue away
the bloody hand and wrist

become objectified
she studies how red
the palm and wrist and sink

she lifts her hand
and walks out
into the ward

leaving a red trail
a scream
and a nurse runs to her

and takes her
to the medical room
Yiska what have you done?

The nurse washes the wrist
under a tap
the blood runs diluted

into the sink
she holds the wrist gently
until clean

Yiska watches
detached gazing on

other fingers dab
and bandage
Yiska senses

an inner rage.
Terry Collett Sep 2017
Yiska stood by the window
of the locked ward. Snow drifted  
slowly in large clumps
settling on the window sill
and the trees and on
the lawn below.

I should be out there.
Not stuck in here.

Her bandaged wrist smarted
where she'd slit it days before.
Should have done it better.
Try again if I can.

In a nearby field
a tractor ploughed slowly.
Gulls and rooks followed behind
like small ghosts.

Where's Benedict?
The other patients
roamed the ward.
Nurses passed purposely.

Hands went around her waist.
Benedict kissed her neck.
Warm kiss. Snow? He whispered.

The gulls and rooks
lifted up and away.
Beginning of a new dull day.
A girl in a psychlatrc ward in 1971
Terry Collett Aug 2017
Nurses rushed past,
flashes of white and blue,
Benny watched them go;
someone must have slit a wrist
or saved up their pills and ODed,
he didn't know,
just one from the women's
dormitory who'd had enough
and wanted out.

One tried to hang herself
in the lavatory from the water pipe
with a nylon, but they got her
down in time(much to her
annoyance afterwards.

Benny tried on his first day
in the lavatory outside the locked ward,
but someone saw him
and grabbed him down
before he could succeed;
bastard soft heart,  
Benny yelled at the time.

A flurry of voices
from the passageway.

Maybe it's Yiska again.

Have to get a free ride
out of this place somehow
she had said the day before.

Benny pulled on his cigarette;
inhale he mused, and forget.
A patient in a psychic ward in 1971
Terry Collett Jun 2017
The skinny nurse
was on duty today
alongside the brunette
with the beauty spot.

Big Sid
brought breakfasts
into the lounge
after making sure
both doors
were locked.

The radio played
pop music all day
with the usual chatter
in between.

The skinny nurse
brought around
the medication
each in little tubs
for each of us.

Yiska stood
by the window
watching the snow.

I stood beside her
watching it drift
heavily on fields
and trees
a tractor ploughed
a field beyond
gulls followed in
its track.

Yiska asked me
how I was.

I said
pissed off
waiting for
the ECT.

She said
she was too
hated it gave her

Me too
I said.

I wondered how
my mother
was coping
in the snow drift
how my siblings
were getting
to school.

Yiska's hand
held mine
it was soft and warm.

What time is
the psychiatrist coming?
Yiska asked
the skinny nurse.

the nurse said
a mindful
of information.

I sensed
the bandage
about Yiska's wrist
where she'd slit it
a few days ago.

We stood
by the window
watching the snow.
No one at Mt. Airy Psychiatric Hospital
Was sure what was precisely wrong with Joe Hebron?
They knew he had Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from the War In Iraq.
However, Dr. Irwin Schwartz and his nurse,
Melissa Romero
Suspected that Joe had a more serious psychiatric disorder
Because he wouldn't stop SCREAMING.
Everyone in the entire Psychiatric Hospital.
"You're the same Motherfuckers who raped my Ancestors,"
"And brought them here in chains!" Joe screamed.
"You're the same Motherfuckers who Assassinated Sitting Bull,"
"Killed off all the Bison,"
"And stole the Land from the Injuns!"
Joe couldn't stop his Obscene Sermons!
Dr, Schwartz and Melissa were worried about their patient,
Mr. Hebron.
"Maybe, his dose of Zyprexa isn't high enough?" Melissa wondered.
"No." Dr. Schwartz said.
"He's on enough of that stuff."
"If we give him any more meds,"
"We'll kill him."
"Then, we'll get sued for Malpractice."
"I have another Scheme."
Dr. Schwartz grabbed a notepad and a pen,
Threw it in Joe's room
While he was in the middle of his Obscene Sermons.
He suddenly stopped ranting
And began SKETCHING on the pad and paper.
Then, he began WRITING a poem.
Joe Hebron was gentle and quiet like a child
Without any additional drugs.
"Would you like to read my poem, Ms. Romero?"
"I wrote it especially for you."
Well, Melissa was taken aback!
She wished her boyfriend would be as sweet as this  Mental Patient.
"Why, sure, Joe," she said.
"I'll read your poem."
It went like This,
(Roses are Red)
(Violets are Blue)
(Trump's cuts of the Mental Health System)
(Will fuck me up)
(As well as you)
(Kale is Green)
(Coal is Black)
(The Ku Klux Klan is running this Country)
(White Supremacy is Back!)
Melissa was very impressed with Joe's poem.
She said,
"That's a very sweet poem, Mr. Hebron."
"No one has ever shared such lovely sentiments with me."
"Now, I think you're ready for discharge tomorrow"
"As long as you continue  your Writing."
"I think you were just having a PTSD relapse"
"Related to your Tour of Duty"
"In Iraq."
Terry Collett Nov 2016
What books are those?
Yiska said.

Philosophy books
my mother brought in
to save me
from further madness,
I said.

I showed her
the titles.

She shrugged:
I'm too tired to read
after the ETC
this morning,
she said yawning.

She lit up a cigarette
and lit mine too,
and we walked
into the lounge
and sat on the sofa.

Nurses passed
by us.

The Scottish woman
stared at her hands
which were shaking:
the DTs,
she said,
need a fecking drink,
feckin nurses an' quacks.

Yiska's knee
touched mine,
her nightdress
had risen up
as she sat,
and my dressing gown
had no belt
(least I try
to hang myself).

Did you not sleep
last night?
I asked.

No I didn't,
not well,
she replied,
I thought of him
leaving me at the altar
and got angry again
and lay there
in the bed
listening to rain.

She took my hand
and we walked over
to the window
and peered out.

Rain was falling heavy,
the sky a dull grey.

I sensed her fingers
fold into mine,
slim and warm.

I wanted you last night,
she said,
but all we had
was the Scottish hag
moaning in her sleep.

We both inhaled
our cigarettes
and stood watching
the dull sky,
both in our own ways
wanting to go or die.
Joe stumbled out of the mental hospital.
He was still wearing his hospital gown.
He didn't know which way to go.
Finally, he decided to walk towards the local McDonald's.
Maybe, someone would recognize him there
And give him some food.
An idealistic-looking  young woman
With a clipboard approached him.
"Sir, are you registered to vote?" she asked.
"Vote for What?" he asked her.
"Vote for President of the United States," she asserted.
"Don't you know that there's a Presidential Election this year?
Joe really needed to get to a McDonald's now.
He hadn't peed for 5 hours and the urine was starting
To dribble on his hospital gown.
The idealistic young woman wouldn't relent
"Aren't you gonna' vote for Hillary?" she asked.
Joe was starting to pass gas
From the Bean Burrito he had eaten in the Psych Ward
A few hours earlier.
The Woman remained zealously indifferent to the farting.
Either she was wearing a very strong perfume
Or had a very weak sense of smell.
He had no idea how she could tolerate his bean farts?
"Is this gal Hillary hot?" he asked her.
"Hot?!" the political volunteer was stunned.
"That's not a politically correct way to speak about Hillary Clinton!"
"It's very disrespectful!"
"Oh, I was just wondering," Joe said,
"Because I wasn't able to fuck a woman in the Psych Ward."
"It's against the rules, you know?"
"Phew, you STINK!"
The political volunteer was finally starting to notice his bean farts.
Maybe, she'd leave him alone now.
"And besides, you're a Male Chauvinist Pig!"
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