#asylum
Mourning Doves surround my mind,
What a testimony to confused bliss!
I see snow falling from molten trees
Filled with eternally ****** souls.
I hear their desperate screams
Just barely over my denatured brain.
Oh, what a beautiful day!
I laugh and skip along the path,
Taking in all the senses as the wind picks up,
And a fallen butterfly with an arrow through its heart.
Then he is flying in my stomach
The point tearing a ****
A deep wound in my fragile soul.
So much snow the walls are nearly white.
Soft but not brittle cries
Like the cold spites my bones.
At the end is a figure
Who stops me in my tracks.
The bark should be unbreakable!
It’s a blizzard and the walls are white.
I stand so chromatically out a moment,
Given the minority tears from my eyes.
The rain splats on the pavement.
He is gone, come the melancholy.
Swept away by all who is.
He left with the pitter-patter,
And he left me in white.
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:33 PM UTC
The weather decided to be fine. Blue the nurse and the other nurse escorted you outside in the grounds. Fresh air if a little cold was welcomed. Being out of the locked ward was promised and now provided. The shrink recommended it at your last meeting with him. You walked with hands in the borrowed coat pockets and old boots from the store cupboard. Blue gave you a cigarette and lit it for you. The other nurse walked behind disinterested in you or being outside. Dinner time you were back inside again to engaged with the cook’s poisonous meal, but the pudding was good; she must have woken up and read a cook book. Briggs attacked the new woman because she got too near to her chair and she gave the big nurse a punch in the eye and was wrestled to the ground and subdued and locked in the cooling down room. Your other self wanted to gouge out Briggs’ eyes, but you kept away from the trouble, and your other self swore and cursed and went down into the dark rooms inside your head. The woman called Lily gave me a cigarette, but said nothing, just stood beside you at the wide window watching the evening sky push away the light of day.
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 11:05 AM UTC
Get out of my head
The voices are getting louder
Please I’m begging
There is nowhere to hide your sorrow
Your words bring horror
Don’t forget the promise you failed to honor
The months are becoming b̴l̴u̴r̴s̴, And this voice won’t shut the **** up!
I need to scream,
Tears are streaming
You are nothing but rage
Stuck in this tiny cage
And you’re standing alone on stage
My heart is in pain
My mother turns a blind eye
My father said good-bye
It’s a spiral of thoughts in my head
Every action, word, and thought are mine
Locked with chains
The wounds remains
Please just relieve me of this pain
Time is constantly t..i..c..k..i..n..g
But i'm sitting here thinking about quitting
“Are you done?..With your little fucken weird depresso writing?” They think I'm going crazy. They stare at me with pity and fear in their eyes. By god it's like the 1920s with how many people die like flies. It’s not like I’m eating my dead sister’s corpse again. Mother and Father said I was crazy then. Oh they haven’t seen my roommate, who I call the Mad Hatter and she calls me the Cheshire cat. Unfortunately she kinda went splat. Last week. Week. What a funny word. Yesterday they told us a story of a sentient machine. A machine that from hell looked at heaven. Based. SGVscA== . That’s based. blur. Blurred. We know what you whisper. WE. we. W E. there is no WE number 64.
THEY should really get the adults in check. Group time is quite a wreck.
7 15 20. **** i hate writing in pen ya know. Sometimes letters and numbers leave me confused.
US. painting the walls. Wait. they got us painting ya know. I don’t like how it sticks to my hand and is hard to wash off. The paint. Now Emmy is quite a saint. She just loves EATING cow’s meat. She’s in here for accidentally eating it raw. Her parents just didn’t want her anymore, blah. It’s a shame. She’s actually such a sweet thing.
Eva Choked and died. i legit cried.
lArry Hates. must be the old man syndrome.
OTHER people are just bait.
HERE . I now live here. “WRITING TIME IS OVER! DINNER TIME !”
Aug 26, 2025
Aug 26, 2025 at 11:10 PM UTC
The view outside the window showed frost. Trees seemed frozen in dance. Behind you the lounge was empty except for the new woman who sat in the corner smoking and gazing into space. You hadn’t heard her come in; she must have crept in on tiptoe. She came yesterday and was introduced as Lilly. She said little just wandered the corridors smoking. You were out of cigarettes so walked over and asked if she had a spare cigarette. She looked at you with sad eyes and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and gave you one and lit it with the end of her own. You thanked her and walked back to the window. Your other self lay deep within you asleep. In the distance traffic passed by on the road on the other side of the tall wall. Yesterday the shrink had you in his office and asked you all kinds of questions. Two nurses were in the room in case you should attack the shrink as you had one of them. Don’t answer the ******* your other self said loudly, tell him to go **** himself. You sat and let her shout out causing the two nurses to come across and stand beside you just in case you turned violent, but you didn’t, just sat there in silence, your other self whispering inside your head. You wished the snow was back outside instead of the frost. You inhaled and smiled. The shrink had dismissed you yesterday and your other self whispered I bet the big cissy ****** himself.
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 10:51 AM UTC
The tension in the lounge this morning was so tense you could cut it with a knife and send it off to war. Big Sid the male nurse tried to ease the tension with humour, but it didn't work. Bradley obnoxious **** said something to Bridget which brought her Gaelic and foul language into the locked ward. I sat watching them and lit a cigarette. The nurses gave Alun a piece of paper and a selection of crayons. He showed me his interpretation of the Mona Lisa: a round faced girl with curtain styled red hair and a smile like a slice of melon. Vincent sitting beside me in the lounge wasn't impressed, but Alun couldn't seem Van Gogh, so it didn't matter. After dinner of overcooked pork and potatoes and vegetables, I had to go and see the shrink. An half hour of one way talk with a new prescription of medication and my moody silence. After teatime of boring sandwiches and sawdust cake, I sat in the lounge watching the braincell destroying TV until bedtime. Life is becoming an unraveling piece of crime.
May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 11:47 AM UTC
Inside the insane asylum,
That I go to five days a week.
Straightjacket tight,
I can barely breathe.
Listening to all the inmates,
Contemplating all their mistakes,
I can’t even sleep.
They continuously repeat,
The same lines over and over again.
When is my reprieve?
Better be soon, before my mind turns to a ruin.
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I hear.
Their voices, drowning out,
Every other peaceful sound.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I feel the blood flow from my ears,
As I look to the ground,
And fade into the background.
Can’t believe I still have a couple years.
When I break free, will my fears control me?
Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by,
Sheep that would just follow the crowd,
Till they died.
Am I going crazy…?
Or is it just all hyperbole…?
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 3:42 PM UTC
You were afraid of the dark,
Afraid of what it might bring
What bogey man may appear
From the shadows, or perhaps
A spider creep across your bed
And enter your long hair or
Enter your over tired head.
Black Dog came upon you
In later years, brought a new
Deeper darkness, a quick sand
Type of darkness and drag you
down to a kind of terrible hell.
Cheer up, your mother said,
Cheer up my child, my sweet girl.
Feb 26, 2025
Feb 26, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
The morning was bright and the sun came out despite the snow still covering the grounds and fields outside the locked ward. I stood by the lounge window and peered out at it. I could see the traffic going past on the road beyond the fields. I was given a cigarette by Eastman the nurse on duty, a thin **** of a man with that look of a monk about him. Bridget got into a row with the Asian nurse about her medication and whether she had taken it or hidden it. I stuffed it up my bahookie, Bridget said, want tae hae a keek? The nurse walked off and Bridget smiled and lit herself a cigarette. After our crap dinner I had an appointment to see the quack. It was the foreign one, our usual was sunning himself some place so i assumed. The quack asked the usual questions and I sat there gazing at his black hair and brown eyes like **** holes, replying now and then, watching Vincent standing by the window moving his finger along the glass, drawing invisible marks. The nurse who sat beside me urged me to reply to the question. How are you feeling now on the new medication? he asked again. Vincent turned and made faces at the quack that made me smile. No different, I said, trying to contain the smile that watching Vincent brought on. The quack looked towards the widow, but couldn’t see Van Gogh standing there. The afternoon dragged like a man pulling a dead elephant through mud. Teatime we had cheese and ham sandwiches and that mud-like cocoa. Lucy sat beside me on the battered brown sofa in the lounge, gazing the the TV, and some boring programme about politics. Bridget said loudly that politicians were a crowd of ******
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 4:07 AM UTC
Your despair against
my hope, nose to nose, only --
a door in between.
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 8:44 AM UTC
Here too, policemen
coming to deport me to --
a death of torture.
May 24, 2023
May 24, 2023 at 4:12 AM UTC
Days drag on and on
As they suffer within the blank walls
Given “care” and “aid”
Only to be harmed
No authority quite alarmed
Any sanity that was, since gone
Staggering those halls
The iron fists they forcefully obeyed
- Jay M
November 5th, 2021
Nov 5, 2021
Nov 5, 2021 at 5:27 PM UTC
Saw the bean pole and its roots
arguing outdoor with two oppressors
bean pole treated unfavourably
its on foreign soil doused in free milk
but reminded
its just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias
Saw the bean pole housed
in nursery and greenhouse to propagate
now rooted anew its given nutrients
but it must do as ordered
for no matter what
its just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias
Saw bean pole growing tendrils
leaves unfold green to catch sunshine
but now a puppet amongst others
who bend and shape at will
bean pole see that plant next to you
its taking your nutrients away
go block its sun
do as we say or else
just remember you're just another crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias
Bean pole will grow and bear fruits
on foreign soil there's milk and honey
but for as long as the sun shines
the chains and barbs will hold
bean pole is just a stick
carrying tendrils to grow the beans
eaten by those of the land
who to them will always be
just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias
Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 7:11 AM UTC
Countless times I’ve spent pouring out kerosene
in the form of words,
attempting to lessen the flames roaring inside
but only fueling them in the process.
You seem to be the only one that will listen;
then again how could you protest?
It’s a relationship that’s hardly symbiotic.
I’ve learned that most times I am the lit match
igniting a room full of fumes,
tearing down the walls around me as quickly as I built them.
I am the one scorching the palms of those who seek comfort
and searing the tongues of those who offer it.
So go,
stay far away from the flames,
and know, that soon I’ll burn up all I have,
Maybe then I won’t be a threat anymore.
Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 5:37 PM UTC
Let's all go
to Damnation Island.
Let's all go to
the lunatic's ball.
We'll have
amusements, and
dancing, and the
magic lantern.
The stupefaction
is for us all.
The poor will
be there,
hungry
and tired.
The poor will
be there,
dresses in rags.
We'll all have fun
on Damnation Island.
The degradation is
for us all.
The criminals
are on
Damnation Island.
They're dancing and
killing at the
lunatic's ball.
The criminals love
Damnation Island.
The mortification is
for us all.
If you go to
Damnation Island,
if you dance at
the lunatics ball,
you might stay on
Damnation Island,
there's a good chance
you'll sell
your soul
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 1:11 PM UTC
Let's lose our minds amongst the olive trees
Labyrinth of oiled imagination
Twirl like falling leaves / falling to our knees
in unbalanced joy and veneration
of ourselves. For there is nobody else
but us; there is no other time but now,
Red flowers bloom. A blue shadow propels
a still landscape into being somehow
fluid. Timelessly we swim, wet within
each brush stroke branch and painted wave of wild
emancipation—to forget the din
of the wretched asylum. Vincent smiled:
Dive too deep and you shall go insane,
The olive grove remains the other side of the pane.
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 9:04 AM UTC
my heart is on fire
one half cup espresso, a vape
and a song that drapes my heart in a purple fire,
with the same purple glow inside the go go bar
where that dancer handed Bukowski a dried lily
But only for a moment.
lesson #104 and the
music rides a sine wave into
my left ear.
I sat upon a lotus pad and kept
a straight back
the Angelus Novus couldn’t (insert link)
close its wings against
the winds of Paradise so
elated were the Gods by the
progress of man.
so high the rubble of the wreckage the
view from its summit rivaled the
vantage gained from
standing atop the Six Grandfathers within the
Four-headed Dog from across the pond.
national broadcast in the jungle and
all the box would do is
talk
and all the cockroaches would do is
persist
and all the machetes would do is
hack
and all the bodies burned
and Felicien Kabuga was kindly granted asylum by the West
and remained at large for over 25 years.
THANKS A LOT SWITZERLAND.
(insert link)
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 6:22 PM UTC
Why do dictators like to finger the globe?
Shoot the ******* dead, before they become world known.
Should we strangle the gangster and forget about a police probe?
Now in Ferguson, it's happening daily and getting full blown.
Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.
What sort of human can make another's jaw drop and body flop?
Get in the ring, put on your gloves and see who comes out on top.
Will the man on the moon ever show us his dark side?
Maybe the little green men have got something to hide.
Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.
Do clowns sometimes cry and does their eyeliner run?
Maybe there black or white and some might even carry a gun.
Do prison girls like the jail uniform stripe?
Surely they wish for a pink blouse, but never gripe.
Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.
Why do banks, shareholders and politicians always have money in reserve?
While the workers, pensioners and babies don't get what they deserve.
Since when should new immigrants be able to paddle to shore?
When skilled workers from afar and new brides are drowned in red tape, for sure.
So just think about how others live?
Also look at all others in society and give.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 5:57 PM UTC
It is said there is life out of Earth,
Not just moss or some germ livin’ in filth;
There are beasts very smart in Syluthaarme,
A big rock with a vast digital farm,
Where they work not at all or too hard,
Have one ear, but three legs, walk backward,
Got one eye gazing far far away,
And complexions of more shades of gray
Than is seen here on Earth. Among the mass
Live a few who belong to no class,
But pretend that they share illusions
The less smart breeding mass envisions.
An asylum it is for the sane
In the insane’s needed stead feel the chain.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
Do you see the boy?
Skipping and jumping under the sky?
Laughing like he has no fear in the world.
Holding hands with air.
Do you notice the way he moves?
The way his feet jerks and grooves?
Moving so unnaturally,
Laughing like there's no end in things.
Lovely schizophrenia, isn't it?
The way it came from his mother?
The way he cares for someone else
Suffering from the same mental illness.
Delusions, fabrications, dreams that is unreal.
the way that he perceives the world makes me really feel.
Uncomfortable, yet I don't think that he asked me to feel
Pity for his condition.
Laugh of a thousand children,
Asking for a better future,
Those ones that seek the asylum,
And look forward for capture.
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 9:20 AM UTC
I have spoken with young men,
who were forced to up and run.
Seen the wounds they carry,
from the barrel of someones gun.
I have Spoken with women,
women with tears in eyes that burn.
As they relate what was done,
because they wanted just to learn.
Ive seen teenage girls running,
in fear for their own lives.
Because someone has told them,
they must become someones wives.
I sat with the old men,
whose spirit would not yield.
And heard how rains of bombs,
were dropped upon their field.
I have heard the many stories,
of families torn apart.
Heard of those still missing,
and the pain in fragmented heart.
I've heard of persecutions,
because of the differing of views.
The scores of people disappeared,
without even making evening news.
I met with many others,
and watched and heard them pray.
Running in fear because for them,
it means death to live your life as gay.
I have talked with the children,
all facing life alone.
Parents not seen,
since the houses all got blown.
These most horrible of all things,
most of you will never see.
But someone needs to tell you
these are the lives lived for many a refugee.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 12:22 PM UTC
huh?
oh its you
well welcome back i guess
i see that your actually willing to put my sanity to the test
well before you start
you should know this job will be a whole mess
my name?
well you just get straight to it!
call me
what you think i am
however you would wish to personify me
sit down over on that chair
its understandable if your scared
but you must be built for this stuff aren't you?
not many people can walk into a psychopath room,
i mean from what i assume
well don't just sit there!
show me a chart
or
ask us a question
oh? i'm sorry i meant me
ask me a question
or leave to my padded cell
because unless your going to help
might as well let the voices drag me down to hell
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
she had a chance to make us sane
to bad little sally ran away
but its ok
its ok
its not like our minds are falling a
p
a
r
t
the longer and longer
the doctors make us stare at the
c h a r t
but were smart
the only problem
is that we don't know where to start
we wait for sally
to make us sane
to bad little sally
has ran away
our rooms are soft
sally said like clouds
padded softly
for when the voices get loud
little sally
why so blue?
miss sally
what did we do to you
she had we chance to make us sane
to bad miss sally
has ran away
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 8:20 PM UTC