"counselling" poems
Imagine my disappointment when,
on discovering a tiny door
in a hollow tree,
locating its miniature key
beneath a buttercup,
unlocking and opening it
I found not a world of tiny folk
not Tir-nan-Og nor Avalon,
but a spectacled man in a white labcoat
holding a clipboard
and making notes on my reaction.
"Initial shock", he jotted,
"followed by anger and suspicion.
"Likely to require counselling
"within a year."
I closed the door as politely as I could
and went back to my books.
Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 7:01 AM UTC
It is December in Wicklow:
Alders dripping, birches
Inheriting the last light,
The ash tree cold to look at.
A comet that was lost
Should be visible at sunset,
Those million tons of light
Like a glimmer of haws and rose-hips,
And I sometimes see a falling star.
If I could come on meteorite!
Instead I walk through damp leaves,
Husks, the spent flukes of autumn,
Imagining a hero
On some muddy compound,
His gift like a slingstone
Whirled for the desperate.
How did I end up like this?
I often think of my friends'
Beautiful prismatic counselling
And the anvil brains of some who hate me
As I sit weighing and weighing
My responsible tristia.
For what? For the ear? For the people?
For what is said behind-backs?
Rain comes down through the alders,
Its low conductive voices
Mutter about let-downs and erosions
And yet each drop recalls
The diamond absolutes.
I am neither internee nor informer;
An inner émigré, grown long-haired
And thoughtful; a wood-kerne
Escaped from the massacre,
Taking protective colouring
From bole and bark, feeling
Every wind that blows;
Who, blowing up these sparks
For their meagre heat, have missed
The once-in-a-lifetime portent,
The comet's pulsing rose.
8.1k
Drug Addict
I drink beer, I drink liquor,
doing shots makes it quicker.
I smoke a bowl, I smoke a joint,
is there a problem, get to the point.
I take acid, I like trip,
I love the trail of a moving whip.
I like ****** sugar, I snort coke,
no wonder, I'm so **** broke.
I pop pills for stress, some for pain,
you'll never hear me complain.
I shoot ****** then I dose off,
my life is just a total loss.
I make and smoke ****
hoping it takes my last breath.
Special K is my favorite tranquilizer,
I use it as a drug appetizer.
I smoke crack, don't ask why,
don't knock it, til you try.
Ecstasy makes me feel so good,
it always puts me in a special mood.
I sniff gas, I sniff glue,
then I ask, who are you.
Sometimes I smoke hash,
I live a life of white trash.
Morphine can't be beat,
my brain has suffered a defeat.
I even take ****** and steroids,
***** big, ***** small and I'm paranoid.
Been to counselling, been to rehab,
last time I went, I ended up with *****
Now finally, I'm clean and sober,
been that way since mid October.
I admit drugs are more fun,
but in the end, God finally won.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
I wrote a letter to my 12-year-old self and
It went something along the lines of
“Love Yourself”
but counselling office posters read the same
things so I ripped it up.
See, I used to think that I could fly into the
Sun and it would feel like a warm hug, nothing
So drastic as incineration
Then I saw what could happen to pallid skin on
a hot day and my mindset changed.
I wrote a letter to my 10-year-old self and it
Was more like a warning,
(a red light is flashing, don’t fly into that tower)
Don’t let yourself become cynical
Don’t forget to call your grandmother
Don’t get so caught up in making money that
You’ve forgotten what it means to be a kid
You should be doing loop-the-loops around
That tower,
Roll upside-down, see your city like a bird.
Don red, bleach your apron, do something
Radical to it.
This has become the unsung song of your life
You’ve forgotten to live.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
I'm not afraid to **** myself
What I'm scared of is what happens if it doesn't work out
But I'm doing this and hoping it works.
Mom, I'm sorry I couldn't be everything you wanted out of a daughter. You probably wanted a smart, pretty and elegant daughter and you were delivered this sack of **** I'm sorry that you'll have to clean up my one last mess. I'm sorry that you'll never understand. I'm sorry I could never 'try' as much as you'd like. I love you always, and forever.
Dad, with you I'm always at a loss for words. You and I have a special bond and when I think of you I think of my likes and interests. My music is heavily influenced by you. Thanking you for showing me what good music is. Thank you, I love you. Sorry.
Bryan, My step dad. You have been here to watch me grow up for the past 5 years and thats cool, I'm sorry it wasnt as what you must have expected. I'm sorry. Please take good care of mom and River. I love you
Diana, My step mom. You are literally mommy number 2. I've known you for 10 years. You have guided me into adult hood. You all did great. I love you.
Please don't think this was any of your faults. You will do great with R and K, you did great with me. This is just a flaw within myself. No amount of medication and counselling could fix this. I past the point of help. After 7 years there scars are too deep to reverse.
My aunt and godmother. You helped me out so much. I love you and I'm sorry you saved all this money for college for me to go throw it away with a few too many pills.
To everyone, I'm sorry. You'll have to go to my funeral, you will feel obligated. But don't go unless you actually cared. I know I won't physically be there but I want to know who would've been there.
Anyways, I'm sorry. This time it will work.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
Dear Dad, we’ve had our up’s and down’s
From being out of my life for fourteen years
To being in counselling sessions that made you realize your mistake
I was so hurt because of you, but I still forgave you
Dear Dad, I am glad we have a good relationship now
Every second week we hang out and play videogames or watch movies
We don’t communicate about a lot of stuff, as long as we still hang out that’s fine with me
We’ve come a long way, and i’m thankful I didn’t end my life back when I was hurt
Dear Dad, I don’t want you to feel guilty for not being in my life
And you're not the only reason, I wanted to end my life
See what’s done in the past, doesn’t matter today
Cause dad, I love you, and that’s all that matter’s to me today
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
A tragedy miles of time away,
The anguish almost forgotten:
But pain is a stubborn stain;
Counselling never washes it away,
New love never smothers it.
Like a stubborn ****
It is always there,
Rooted in composted memories,
Finding nourishment in the briefest recollections.
The slightest trigger allowing it to briefly blossom.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
lonely nights
show us the darkest sight
of our strength and weakness
to our partner it could bring stress
if you're strong enough
then its fine
else for your partner time is tough
you may act like swine
your heart just give reasons
its our brain that do the calculations
its OK to have an insane heart
but an insane mind can lit spark
from the number of incident
we choose a single moment
where our heart beats loud
and to judge, our insane mind, we allow
the mind come up with harsh decision
but our heart has its own vision
it chooses the one suits
and to negotiate, this decision, it recruits
its us who know;
every moment and incident
don't let your feelings flow
they (partner) may not find it decent!
we must respect every living being
and not take them for granted;
just because they respect our feeling.
our act may get a negative image planted!
if you love the person
love their decision!
and if you can't
simply make space and move on!!
we don't have any right to hurt someone
coz everyone is special in their own.
and what if they hurt you?
its your decision if you want to continue
don't leave any stone unturned
don't let your feelings burn
but to force someone to love
is inhuman hereof!
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 2:15 AM UTC
STOP CREEPING
(Road signs in Australia thus remind us to keep to the speed limit)
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
William Shakespeare: MacBeth, Act 5 Scene 5.
Creeping, seeping, peeping, sleeping,
What’s the common factor through these ‘eep’ words deeming?
Shakespeare calls them dusty and aligns them up with death.
Our world calls it shadow but it chokes you out of breath.
Churches cannot see them so they flout invisible.
Jesus calls them idols yet they sound so plausible.
Christians follow teachers in a roundabout way.
Teachers crave disciples which determines what they say.
But these are all poor players on a poorly structured stage.
Their stage gives way. They tumble. They rise up in a rage.
“Life has not been fair,” they say, and “Where is God in that?”
Did they ask Him in the first place? Did they call God up to chat?
The churches have no answers. Now where do I go from here?
Go right back to the Bible, Friend. The truth is written there.
Check it yourself. It’s relevant to eras far and near.
Like natural laws it cannot change with fashion year to year.
So do not mix the fashion in philosophies of life
With Truth that stands forever among raging seas of strife.
Counselling in modern terms can get you sympathy,
But will it give you backbone for the next antipathy?
Feminism needed to support the weaker staff,
But now of our humanity it rejects one whole half!
And money is too much an issue when it must be said
That what is not of love is valueless to Christ our Head.
Of all the thousands who are found in church each seventh day,
How many can indeed discern the right and faithful way?
How many put their lives on hold for truth and nothing less?
How many first set out their plan and build their faith round this?
Is there not one who will apply to God for his blueprint
So s/he can play the part of power for treasure in Heaven’s mint?
The Spirit of Truth cannot be found where ideas pull such weight.
He’s somewhere else you don’t suspect. Chase Him, and don’t be late!
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
Once of a bride was I by a belle informed;
Who, on the very night of their honeymoon
Upon sighting her groom's dower, screamed
And would not let him in for his ***** boon,
Until she's taken thru the script the following
Morn by her parson's wife in cool counselling.
Many things in morals and etiquette do
Parents their children ever and anon teach
Except on this single unfolding issue
Will they falter to them plainly preach:
The act of marriage in its detailed image,
Cause it's found nay on their nurturing page.
An African mother will quiver her girl to lecture,
For instance, in the subject under review,
But will leave it to the Omniscient Nature
To instruct her like cry to a curlew.
So the bride's mom will not to her say:
This is how you should roll in the hay.
Neither will a father his son likewise tell
Explicitly of this duty--this too I know--
How to make his led-to-the-altar angel
Fly on cloud nine during their maiden show.
My pa never me of this nuptial scene told,
How in bed my lady I should stylishly hold.
Yet instinct, that great ancient teacher,
The green Adam and ****** Eve taught
On man's debut moment of ecstasy ever,
And did lead him to her piquant spot,
Whilst one another they caressed for affection,
Premiering for all couples conjugal copulation.
And the animals who do not the wisdom
Of man have, even every diminutive creature,
How each by divine smarts in their kingdom--
Like the fish in the sea of their rapture--
Do with themselves mate with none
Giving them tutorials nor showing them ****
To close this up where it had first started:
The *iyawo after the pending deed was done,
As it should betwixt man and wife, delighted
Was and with glowing warmth did thence burn
In the hearth of her *ókò with ultra joy,
Who at the beginning of performance was coy.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 4:43 AM UTC
I went into the woods today
to feed the little birds
the squirrel in his little drey
and the roe deer in their herds
went in feeling confident
walked out tired and grey
now I need some counselling
and this is what I'll say!
Those little ******* birdies
had set a trap for me
dug a hole with mickey the mole
they knew I would't see
fell right down
and bashed my head
they laughed so much,
thought I was dead
all they wanted was my seed
No! not my *****
Oh, please take heed
the rabbits kicked earth into the hole
****** lagomorphs got no soul
except for hares
they are classier
even though
the females are sassier
I climbed back out
the birds got miffed
"there is no doubt,
he must be biffed!"
so into the fray
they sent their trump
a ****** great stag
to give me a thump
spent ten minutes dodging round
running like a good'un
until I ran into a tree
solid and pretty wooden
"my sodding nose,
that ****** hurt!
I'm bleeding down
into the dirt!"
tough they told me
with their eyes
that tree will cut you
down to size!
I got away at half past six
how was purely luck
I fed the stag some weetabix
and he got hit by a truck
So now we're having venison
and gravy for our tea
and if I go to the woods again
I'll take some friends with me!
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 11:00 AM UTC
Hello Mr.Law nice to meet you
I can only assume what you plan to do
Fill your palace with another criminal
An outweighed sentence and your sympathy minimal
Haha! But look at this I've got money this time!
The representation of wealth and greed is sublime
Prestige on my side and there goes your jurisdiction
So, You grant me diversion to heal my minds affliction?
Fancy be and fancy sells - I'm content with this fine
To be told what I've learned through all the signs
A psychiatric assessment to tell me i'm me
Mental illness is just humanity can't you see?
Thanks for the counselling I've learned oh so much
A man is what he is and you have told me as such
Individuality is a sickness and needs to be medicated
The soul who lacks conformity needs to be domesticated
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
she turned the questions in her eyes aside
and stealing away in the quiet
of the pine forest winters day
the taste of wood smoke was tangible on the sharp cold air
and his eyes hunted the ridge crest for sing of flames
as they hurried their steps along the rough hewn track
she carried the child whos silent contemplation
showed his understandings of the gravity of this flight
the bundle of possessions on his shoulder
weighed upon his mind
counselling himself not to regret casting it all aside should need arise
the woman and child so fragile and dear to his heart
mean so much more than mere trinkets of gold
he would surrender without pause life and limb to spare them
she was a smoky version of bobby dylan
complete with winged snakes in each hand
complete with a crown of jewels
and the thousand words dance
he was a seafaring man
they reached the shore of the sea
and found the wreckage of a sailing ship
her fine line speaking clear of her swiftness
and her appointments show without shyness
that she was of the finest portugal shipyards
they spent days making her seaworthy
laying up in the harsh tropical sun
neath the palm trees drinking *** from her stores
they put to sea in the birth of the new year
singing 'goodbye spanish ladies'
the three of them on the skiff tacking up-channel
trying to determine latitude by sighting
but a fog rolls in off the coast of grande bahama
as dawn breaks
man woman and grown child
the miles and the treasures cast aside
each wore on open hearted face
but neath the weary of sea miles
was their joys in the true riches
of eachothers soft hand entwined as they sailed into
a golden dusk
of a lesser throne
a kingdom of the sea
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
Truth be told, I probably need therapy, or counselling I'm not sure.
But I'm not going to get involved in that.
So instead I go to a karate class twice a week. And it's a good outlet for anger.
Just imagine the person or thing you're currently mad at and go crazy. Punch, kick, fight!
Make it known that you are blazing mad! Don't back down until you have won!
When the class is over, you're probably tired, you've used a lot of your energy, so you can maybe sleep your anger off.
But somedays, you rage does not give up, it sticks with you and you're still not satisfied with the service, you want a refund? Well too bad, you don't get one! Remember, this is not a real therapy session...
Maybe I should go into therapy -- or counselling.
Because even if you fight with all your rage and anger and hate, you won't win a fight if the person you're mad at --
If the person you are fighting...
Is yourself.
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC
Add new,
feels like sin.
Away we go,
Needle in.
Mmm feels fine,
quick write another line.
No-one is looking,
they're watching t.v. or cooking.
Pfist yet more,
my arm is sore.
Watch that spelling,
need counselling!
For poetry?
yup.
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 9:51 AM UTC
We are all dealing with it together
sitting on these chairs side by side.
Therapeutic Counselling; it's that general motion
that lonesome melancholy
Grieving people flocking together
likened to the Vietnamese phrase
'Same same, but different'
And every now and then,
Someone, quiet and
unassuming will
whisper words
That strikes
a chord
In your
heart
We're no longer playing those
single notes on repeat
Blame, pain, hurt and defeat
It resonates so deeply
A whole symphony erupts
In your lost thoughts
Dvořák final moments,
Notes cascading down your face.
Eyes wild, eager and hungry for more
tears, mingled with a melody of vulnerability of the human race
Beethoven Fidelio- an operatic shuddering possession. Body breaking, mind
astrewn. Rhythm of rapidly
crushing sanity
Tchaikovsky's Sixth
white keys masquerading as happiness overlaying the sound of
sombre black keys striking suffering
and grief and everything else in-between in the greying colours of your mind.
Music of your
stricken heart lost in
the underground,
In these chairs next to you
Woman who also grieves
With a warm embrace around your body
Our wet shoulders
Absorbing the sounds of your dying souls
Until we're playing a single courageous lullaby once more
Heal heal heal
And heal we shall
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
One hand,
On the left shoulder.
Comforting a shaking girl.
Shaking,
Sniffling,
Sobbing.
It means more than he could ever know.
It's not a hand,
It's just a show that someone knows her well enough to comfort her in the way she loves best.
Not a counselling session,
Not eloquent words,
Or condolences,
But simply the physical presence, the "being there".
She craves that,
Simple touch, no ulterior motives, no....
Nothing,
Save the being-there-ness.
He gives her that, simple love, no romance or anything,
Anything like that.
The warmth of his palm permeates to her soul, reminding her that someone is there, someone is caring quietly, praying, protecting her.
He may give terrible hugs, but he gives, he gives.
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 5:29 AM UTC
Classing class as I class colour
One is one and one is the other
Finding freedom in fervour
Can one lonely soul discover?
Touching seeing hearing things
Sensation's where it all begins
To start the start of anything
Is to start the start of everything
Counselling countless souls
Neighbouring wanted rogues
Harbouring heavy loads
To shed’s to sheer to shake things clear
Maybe sometimes I’m not me
Maybe sometimes I can’t see
Maybe sometimes I’m not me
Maybe maybe she can see
Now I know when not to squander
Feel through feet the wildest thunder
Open up let me discover
Your wildest wishes up and under.
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Sorting Goods and Materials
Counselling and Nurturing
Protecting and Enforcing
Serving Others
Liasing and Networking
Teaching and Training
Professional Communicating
Advising and Consulting
Promoting and Selling
Interviewing
Designing
Writing
Performing and Entertainging
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
I just want to die
I could never **** myself but honestly I don't want to live anymore and I could careless if I did die. I used to be scared of death but I guess once you have reached rock bottom you realize that you just don't want to live in this cruel world anymore. I have reached rock bottom, I have Hit an all time low. I have to cut myself to feel better! That means something, I don't know how to handle my own emotions anymore, I can't go a day without feeling in a bad mood no matter where I am or who I'm with. I could be with my best friend and having fun whatever, but all of a sudden I get in a bad mood, I just wanna cry and feel better. I know I overthink too much because I feel like I annoy people with this too much and that they are just getting bothered by it and want me to just get better so I stop bothering them about it. I wanna get better, that is all I'm asking for, is getting better and knowing that my life won't be as miserable as I think it will be. I dont want to go on meds, I don't want to cut everytime I feel down.. I just want this mood to go away, but my overthinking about all my stupid flaws on how I'm so ugly and fat and that I have no ambition in life and how no guy could ever like me because of all these things, doesn't make things easier. And no one can make me feel different about them either which is really hard. My life isn't bad.. Which makes no sense why this is happening to me, I just need to find out the reason. It so hard to, no one gets that, my mom thinks that I know the reason but just not saying it, why wouldn't I say it?! I want to get better, does no one realize that. Just because I'm not able to stop cutting for a long time does not mean I don't want to get better, it just means I'm not as strong as I thought I was. Just because I don't wanna go to counselling every week doesn't mean I don't want help I just don't want to talk to a different person everytime and just hear the same things over and over again. I just want to get better and tbh at this rate , I don't think I will be.. So I just wanna die and not many people will care anyways .
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
I'm empty
but filling slowly up
with self hate
why would anyone love me
when I don't love myself
I don't respect myself
I don't even see anything of me to respect
my stomach isn't flat
my thighs rub together
and my arms are disgusting
my sides are lumpy
and I'm short
I gag at myself in the mirror
how could I be so disgusting
no wonder no one wants me
no wonder I lay alone every night
the only presence I have is death
because it looms like possibilities
I want someone to want me
to say it's okay that you don't
like yourself, because I love
everything about you
I want someone to help
I need help
help convincing myself
I'm worth living
I'm worth trying
this counselling **** does nothing
******* prove to me I'm worth something
and not just a hole in the groud
tell me I'm beautiful
even though I won't believe it
I'll believe the look in your eyes
someone
help me
someone
love me
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
If my dad was here
There would be no heartbreak, no hard ship
no heart ache, no 'I quits' no I can'ts' and no church candles to be lit
No fear of the dark or fear of the end
No tears to be shed on August 27th
If my dad was here
We'd build our own treehouse
I'd pass my exams cause there's no one else I'd want to help me out
He'd help me get on with my mother, and we'd always go out with my brother
We'd do family things together and not cry about past lovers
If my dad was here I'd be a princess no longer searching for a crown
I wouldn't need counselling for all the times a man's laid me down
If my dad was here maybe I wouldn't try to fill any voids
I'm not saying everything would've been perfect but, if I could go back that would be my choice
I'd make it me instead, seeing as the prophecy said one must die in 97,
So then I'd be my dad's own angel, writing poetry from Heaven
But I can't undo the past and I can't change a future that's unseen yet
All I have are these photographs of my mum and dad oh how my face should be between theirs
My dad wore a dark grey suit with a blue tie on his wedding day,
My mum still never told me the exact date but
If I were to ever find out that'd be my second birthday
If my dad was here,
I'd finally have a permanent reason to stay..
But seeing as he's no longer here
I'd best be on my way,
Travelling and writing,
Sharing these exact words..
Singing and smiling,
Celebrating my self worth
Dancing and rocking out,
I'm pretty sure he would've liked Elvis and also the Beatles
I'm pretty sure he would have liked anyone who touched the lives of ordinary people..
Oh how my dad was not an ordinary person.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
roses are red,
violets are blue,
I've got five fingers and the middle ones in you
oh so deep
then I realised it was in a sheep
I quickly ran
then I went into a ram
it was traumatised
it had to have counselling
it had to even start selling
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 11:27 AM UTC
neglecting leads to Brocken adults
Brocken child hood a troubled teen
I don't wont no more counselling sessions
I wont a new life one were
I didn't get dads fists in my face and ribs or stomach
I don't get bullied
were I never started self harm to cope
I don't have a fear of guys who look a little like him
were im not so broken
or so hurt
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC