"counsellors" poems
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens the blue from its silvery grey,
(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say;
Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray
“God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay,
(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:
Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, “Nay!
I’ve better counsellors; what counsel they?”
(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
3.3k
In the multitude of counsellors; safety abounds,
But
ln the multitude of enemies as counsellors;
deceit abounds.
Counsellors whose heart studieth destruction with lips uttering mischief;
Enemies clothed with sheep clothings as friends;
Friends whose tongues uttereth words born in deception.
Counsellors whose mouth darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge;
Enemies made counsellors whose looks appeareth friendly,
Friends whose mouth draweth iniquity by cords of vanity.
Counsellors who utter counsels coated in corruption,
Friends whose mouth worseneth counsel by words without wisdom;
Enemies whose heart pondereth in destruction.
Counsellors whose counsel are coiled in deception,
Friends who by multitudes of words cause you to err;
Enemies whose mouth captivate tender hearts.
Counsellors whose counsel destroy the paths of relationships,
Friends whose conceit counsel to death;
Enemies being enslaved seek to enslave others.
Believe not every counsel neither inculcate every word,
........... They destroy the heart..........
Believe not every friend neither heed to multitudes of words,
........... They enslave the soul............
Believe not every counsellor neither seek counsels from multitudes;
.......... They captive the mind...........
Which counsel shall we inculcate?
Which counsellors shall we believe?
Which counsellors shall we seek?
Inculcate counsels proved by love,
Believe counsellors whose counsel are weighed by truth and peace;
Seek counsellors whose counsel are words of life.
Who shall our counsellors be?
Let counsellors who are genuine and experienced be our guide;
Let counsellors who are higher and honest be our refuge.
Hope you find counsellors whose counsels are candid;
for
lt takes honest counsellors to ensure your safety.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
The understanding of the stewardship of time calls attention to the accountability of time.
The knowledge of time management promotes the accomplishment of God's purpose for man.
The understanding of the time enhances the fulfillment of life ambitions on earth.
Learn to number the days while applying the heart unto knowledge;
knowing any time wasted cannot be regained.
Redeeming the time demands the knowledge of time management,
acknowledging the fact that the time is short.
Understanding the time curbs procastination in every area of life;
knowing that procastination is the killer of destinies.
Be accountable for the time spent with the understanding we cannot turn back the hands of time.
Be conscious of the time spent with the knowledge that time is man's greatest treasure.
Beware of the time spent with the knowledge that time waits for no man.
Let us seek to understand the time while applying the heart unto knowledge.
Let us strive to redeem the time knowing the days are evil.
Let us struggle to fulfil the time while our mission on earth lasts.
Who then can understand the time,
knowing every minute counts.
Who then can redeem the time,
knowing the days are evil.
Who then can fulfil the time,
knowing we are governed by time.
He that acknowledges the time can understand the time.
He that understands the seasons can redeem the time.
He that comprehends the mystery of time can fulfil the time.
Let him that seek to understand the time,
seek the counsel of counsellors.
Let him that seek to redeem the time,
strive to understand God's purpose for man.
Let him that seek to acknowledge the time,
Struggle to heed the principles of time.
What then is the reward for understanding the time?
What then is the reward for redeeming the time?
What then is the reward for fulfilling the time?
He that understands the time will accomplish God's purpose for man.
He that redeems the time will make a difference in his world.
He that acknowledges the time will achieve life ambitions on earth.
Hope you find time out of every time,
knowing we all seek to redeem the time.
Time is a Treasure not a Leisure.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
The counsellors office has always been uneasy
and the chairs always too cold
always a small breeze with the windows
not even cracked open.
This was the newest patients second visit,
everything was casual,
routine questions,
just another average case
but then there was a sudden silence,
the patient became curious and fidgety,
the counsellor sat waiting, watching.
"uh, doc. I know this isn't your dance
or anything,
but do you feel that?"
It had gotten the slightest bit colder
but that was usual
in these 2 decade old buildings.
"feel what, kiddo?"
"That!"
the patient standing now,
was pointing to the door,
as the violent ghosts swooped in
attacking them both,
too much blood and two mangled bodies
on the floor,
the receptionist didn't even hear a scream.
With the next appointment,
the receptionist walked in
getting a mouthful
of that putrid metal-blood taste.
I guess even buildings have a tormenting past.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 10:22 AM UTC
Realisations of common knowledge lurk around us like shadows in the darkness.
Don’t close your eyes. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn a corner too quickly. It’s just the wind. It’s not the same car. It’s too big of a city to find you.
Dear authorities, what are you doing to help?
People from generations before mine have raised their children to be hateful. They have taught them that if they don’t feel like respecting people, they shouldn’t and won’t. I’m sure you’ve guessed this next one, but they’ve let their children get away with a smack here and a smack there to those who don’t obey their every demand – and even to those who do. But I am not the only one. I am not the only unlucky punching bag to experience the hatred of someone much older, more mature, wiser and certainly, not just a kid. Is that it? Is that why you let him go? I was four when it started and fifteen when it ended. To you, that’s a child. Children don’t know much, do they.
Dear authorities, that’s where you’re wrong.
I was four when it started and if you think it stopped at fifteen when my abuser walked out, think again. It never fully stops, not yet. I am nearly twenty years old and I still flinch if someone holds out their hand for a handshake or raises their voice just a notch because they’re a little out of earshot and I needed them to repeat.
Dear authorities, I can’t live because you won’t let me.
Oh, you like Budwiser? Corner Gas, the T.V. show? Do I smell steak? Potatoes baked on the BBQ? You need a plumber? Handyman? Oh look, you’re wearing red. Do you think I appreciate being reminded by the stupidest things, that my abuser is out there? Why is that? Could it possibly be because nobody has bothered giving the man any possible discipline?
Dear authorities, I’m tired of being told, “it’ll be okay, it’s not that bad.”
People after people have continuously told me to go talk to someone. I’ve seen multiple counsellors, doctors, talked to teachers, specialists, friends and family. But what are you doing to help? I moved away from my mother and siblings, in fear. Fear, because every time we moved anywhere the lawyer told us we had to give our address to the abuser. We could not deny him access to us, we could not cut off communication with him. I had to leave, as an attempt to protect myself and hide in a big city with lots of people and hopefully I could blend in.
Dear authorities, you have failed me.
Stop telling me things will be okay, when he is out there and things only seem to matter when a death occurs.
Dear authorities,
Dear authorities…
Dear me, you’re not dead so authorities don’t care.
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 4:00 PM UTC
Razors pain you
Rivers are damp,
Acid stains you
Drugs make you cramp
Guns aren't lawful
and nooses give
gas smells awful
...you might as well live
I don't quite remember where
I heard this little rhyme before
but it has kept me from doing a lot of things
all the videos on YouTube with there promises
"IT GETS BETTER"
the words circulate the world
through the copper chords
that connects us all
the shrinks and the doctors
and the counsellors and priests
with all there powerful words
...words that empower you for a while but
sadly fades to the back of your mind as
tears fill your eyes
and someday, with the instrument of death
at your fingertips..
you realise that all these words and revalations are all just empty lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
one for each day of the week
one for the strong
and one for the weak
one for the man with riches and fame
one for the woman in filth doth have lain
one for a smile that should not exist
and lastly one...
for those who insist
that nothing matters
and nothing will change
tomorrow brings tears
yesterday created fears
this problem has no solution
my soul is lost amidst confusion
I don't believe the lies no more
but I won't answer the truth, knocking at my door
I choose to end not my life
but the potential I have
the beauty
the radiance
the hope I might bring to the hopeless
the health to the sickness
the laughter to the tearful
the protection to the fearful
I choose not to end my life
because I believe that my path is set
not for the benefit of myself...
we have no happiness on our path
we must create it...
find it in giving that which we do NOT have
to the ones we do not love
this is our curse...
and don't say it's not fair
because life is not fair !!
because Angels and Saints
...which we seem to be the chosen of...
rarely gain fame while living
or being happy,
or loved
no... we are the angels
we will only be recognised as soon as we lay our heads down
and all the bricks we have laid in this world
start to radiate with our legacy!!
Be strong, for sprouting feathers is a painful process
Be heard, for the voice of justice has been silenced to long
and be proud...
...simply...
because you are
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
A soft answer turneth
away wrath: but grievous
words stir up anger.
2 The tongue of the wise useth
knowledge aright: but the mouth
of fools poureth out foolishness.
3 The eyes of the Lord are
in every place beholding the evil
and the good.
4 A wholesome tongue is a tree
if life: but perverseness therein is
a breach in the spirit.
5 A fool despiseth his father's
instruction: but he the regardeth
reproof is prudent.
6 In the house of the righteous
is much treasure: but in the
revenues of the wicked is trouble.
7 The lips of the wise disperse
knowledge: but the heart of the
foolish doeth not so.
8 The sacrifice of the wicked
is an abomination to the Lord: but
the prayer of the upright is his delight.
9 The way of the wicked is an
abomination unto the Lord: but
he loveth him that followeth
after righteousness.
10 Correction is grievous unto
him that forsaketh the way: and
he that hateth reproof shall die.
11 Hell and destruction are
before the Lord: how much more
then the hearts of the children of
men?
12 A scorner loveth not one
that reproveth him: neither will he
go unto the wise.
13 A merry heart maketh a
cheerful countenance: but by
sorrow of the heart the spirit is
broken.
14 The heart of them that hath
understanding seeketh knowledge:
but the mouth of fools
feedeth on foolishness.
15 All the days of the afflicted
are evil: but he that is of a merry
heart hath a continual feast.
16 Better is little with the fear
of the Lord than great treasure
and trouble therewith.
17 Better is a dinner of herbs
where love is, than a stalled ox
and hatred therewith.
18 A wrathful man stirreth up
strife: but he that is slow to anger
appeaseth strife.
19 The way of the slothful man
is as an hedge of thorns: but the
way of the righteous is made
plain.
20 A wise son maketh a glad
father: but a foolish man
despiseth his mother.
21 Folly is joy to him that is
destitute of wisdom: but a man of
understanding walketh uprightly.
22 Without counsel purposes
are disappointed: but in the
multitude of counsellors they are
established.
23 A man hath joy by the
answer of his mouth: and a word
spoken in due season, how good
is it!
24 The way of life is above to
the wise, that he may depart from
hell beneath.
25 The Lord will destroy the
house of the proud: but he will
establish the border of the
widow.
26 The thoughts of the wicked
are an abomination to the Lord:
but the words of the pure are
pleasant words.
27 He that is greedy of gain
troubleth his own house; but he
that hateth gifts shall live.
28 The heart of the righteous
studieth to answer: but the
mouth of the wicked poureth out
evil things.
29 The Lord is far from the
wicked: but he heareth the
prayer of the righteous.
30 The light of the eyes rejoiceth
the heart: and a good report
maketh the bones fat.
31 The ear that heareth the
reproof of life abideth among the
wise.
32 He that refuseth instruction
despiseth his own soul: but he
that heareth reproof getteth
understanding.
33 The fear of the Lord is the
instruction of wisdom; and before
honour is humility.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
Dost thou look back on what hath been,
As some divinely gifted man,
Whose life in low estate began
And on a simple village green;
Who breaks his birth's invidious bar,
And grasps the skirts of happy chance,
And ******* the blows of circumstance,
And grapples with his evil star;
Who makes by force his merit known
And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty state's decrees,
And shape the whisper of the throne;
And moving up from high to higher,
Becomes on Fortune's crowning slope
The pillar of a people's hope,
The centre of a world's desire;
Yet feels, as in a pensive dream,
When all his active powers are still,
A distant dearness in the hill,
A secret sweetness in the stream,
The limit of his narrower fate,
While yet beside its vocal springs
He play'd at counsellors and kings,
With one that was his earliest mate;
Who ploughs with pain his native lea
And reaps the labour of his hands,
Or in the furrow musing stands;
'Does my old friend remember me?'
1.2k
I'm sick
I'm sick of it all
The doctors
Counsellors
Psychologists
Psychiatrists
Medication
And
I'm sick
I'm sick of me
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
When my counsellors asked me if i'll be okay without seeing them,
I said yes i'll be okay and i was excited to be okay because saying goodbye is like 'Doctor Who' And in Doctor Who,
People have to say Goodbye at some point for new faces to come along for the adventure..
And they smiled and said
Yes thats correct,
And i guess that's the best goodbye i'll ever get
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
All that man has ever thought
Or what he'll ever be
Transpires through
Documentation
Written
Throughout
History
~~~~~~~~~
Books they are the legacies
Left to all mankind
Past from generation
To the next one left behind
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They are the wisest of all counsellors
The quietest of friends
The most patient of teachers
On whom one can depend
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No comparison
To mans inventions
Regardless of the toil
it took
Even our creator
Left his words
Within a book.........
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
Oh, how do you not worry?
One's sick and overseas,
One's in camp,
One's not replying,
One's out for a dinner,
One hasn't been replying since forever,
One doesn't ever talk...
Oh, the only comfort is that
He's not going but
Still
The thought of travelling is just
Horrifying...
What if I freak out during OBS?
What if I have no friends?
What if no one understands?
What if the counsellors see?
What if I get sent to the counsellor?
What if they all die?
I'd be so
[Alone.]
What if I really go mad?
What if I die before that?
What if I die tomorrow?
How do I tell someone I died
When I'm dead?
What if my friends die?
What if they're already dead so
They can't tell me?
Is that why they don't reply?
I'm not gonna have any friends.
I'm not gonna have any sleep.
I'm not gonna have anything.
I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead,
I'm going crazy, going crazy, going crazy.
Oh, how do you not
Worry?
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 8:49 AM UTC
The smiles on my face hardly show whats inside
The laugh
The grin
The slowly fading smile
They show the happiness that i do not possess
This happiness
Created
Morphed
Twisted for the good and satisfaction of others
But inside
The pain and sadness are uncontrollable
Yeah,
I can control the outside
I've learnt that trick
So teachers and friends stop the questions
The reflective comments
Which lead me into a world of pain and sadness
The world where my inside comes out
The world where shrinks and counsellors analyse
Debate
And break the vows of privacy, which they swear to, for our own safety
I'd rather be hurting in silence anyway
I'd rather that than complain
Bringing others down
No need
No point
No reason to upset the people of today
With the problems
Struggles
Battles of my heart and mind
But sooner or later
It always shows
The true feelings of mine
Hidden on a daily basis
Hidden for the protection of others
But eventually they take breathe
Like a drowning whale after a long deep swim
When i'm alone
When i have time to think
And no-one to help me stop
Thats when the pains show themselves
To me
To anyone around that cares
So, to no-one else
Because no-one cares
And so,
Like a prophesied event,
A prophesied lifestyle of choice and regret,
The pain of love
The ever known 'rhetorical'
Just simply wins again
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
This is my apology –
To my parents,
my best friends,
my psychiatrist,
my psychologist,
my counsellors,
my doctor,
and everyone else I’m too forgetful or ungrateful to mention
The apology is not from a dry throat and a shaky, fragile voice,
or words sloppily scrawled on tear-stained paper,
for
“I’m sorry”
is not enough
Thus, I have concluded that I will not say “I’m sorry” anymore;
Instead I will say
“Goodbye”
and I hope that is enough
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
Come Here Dear, Let Me Tell You The Story, From Whence You Came
Years Ago, They Met, Love at First Sight, Hug And Kisses, Cuddles And More
Night After Night, Day After Day, Love Filled Nights, Hate Filled Days
Hospitals And Test, Tears Did Fall, But Wait Child There Is More
Blood Was Taken, Hormones Rose, Friendships Shattered, So Much More
Counsellors Did Talk, At, Not Too, Weeping At Night, Hugs Were Few
She Has A Friend, Queer As Can Be, He Loved Her Alot, Together She's Free
He Wanted To Make Her Laugh, Thoughts Were Heavy, She Needed To ****
So I Thought To My Self, What My Own Talents Were, And I Wrote These, I Concur
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
If I close my eyes,
I can still feel his breath against my neck.
And the way he said
"You're beautiful"
Like a promise.
His words crawled under my skin,
Made a home in the caverns of self hate and desire to be wanted.
His hands roamed the planes of my body,
Crawling over them like speed bumps on a road.
Slowly but without care,
Caution was never his strong point.
I can see the way you looked at me,
That day in the guidance counsellors office,
Tears streaking down your face.
I can picture you saying
With the heartbreaking sincerity
"I really like him".
I held your hand and stroked your hair,
And then crawled into his bed for the first time
Two weeks later.
Your friendship was the promise I should have kept,
Not the empty ones that he whispered against my skin.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
Try it,
I highly recommend it,
Just open your mouth to say,
I hurt,
I am in pain,
I feel low,
I can't,
And hey presto!
Abracadabra!
You will be flooded with a long list from advisors and counsellors with:
Motivational quotes,
Wise sayings,
Home made remedies,
You have been witched,
A list of remedies from Google,
A list of their personal experiences.
Famous of all:
Be young at heart,
Have a positive attitude,
Don't be a cry baby.
Do they understand your pain,
Your feelings,
Your hurt,
If only one would say,
I understand,
I know what you are going through,
I care.
So next time my advise is to,
Keep mum!
Go to a doctor,
Or best go to a priest and say,
"Father I have sinned."
At least he will pray for you.
God always forgives and your ills can be halved.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 12:45 AM UTC
A young man from Srinagar,
Was born with anger,
Which was a part of his manner.
He would flare up suddenly,
Vent his anger violently,
Fume and seethe at everyone,
Friends he had none.
His parents were worried,
To many counsellors they scurried,
But with little avail,
In torment they could only wail.
One day an old sage came to town,
He was well known
To cure people with anger and demon.
He looked deep into the boy's
Anger filled eyes.
I see no demon,
Only anger venom.
He recited some tantric words a bit,
Young man, take this amulet,
Wear it day and night.
Throw out of the window disparity,
Learn to do charity,
See how others suffer,
With no one their sorrow to buffer.
Go for yoga and meditation,
To control your anger addiction.
That's my advice,
For good overcomes the vice.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 5:03 AM UTC
when counsellors did tantrums
I stood there
watching sun and moon getting divided
thought they were inseparable as moon loved sun more than the mist of holy sins ,
but then I got numb when I saw them going away into this whole lot of darkness on separate ways.
that day I learned that love is ivy poison it spares the none .
when it goes , soul burns.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
am I the monster?
pitiful, broken boy. vile creature. twisted soul.
it all feels a bit trite now. I used to fill pages upon pages with that. a ceaseless wave of self-loathing. I wanted to do that tonight. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to tear myself to pieces. just like the old days: endless tirades into whatever abyss presented itself. notes and poems, blogs and songs.
I even carved it into my skin.
"MONSTER" "PERVERT" "FREAK" "EVIL"
if you look closely you can still see the faint outlines of names I gave myself from my hips to my thighs.
but scars fade.
wounds heal.
tablets work (and stop working), counsellors work (and stops working), friends leave (and stop leaving),
nothing stands still. that once constant hum fades into the distance.
a new song takes its place.
just look at all the hope left in its wake...
all the friendships maintained. all the relationships built. all the late night calls and car rides to the beach. all the conversations and arguments. all the half-baked ideas and plans to change the world. all the cups of tea and petrol station tray bakes. all the last minute events. all the bickering and creating. all the faces glowing. all the plane, train, bus, and bike journeys. all the phone calls answered. all the wounds bandaged. all the ambulance trips and hospital visits. all the falling outs and friend drama. all the heartbreak and bellyache. all the pain and confusion. all the *** and prayer. all the tears and laughter. all the board games and secret shames. all the friends lost and friends gained.
there are lives worth living, and people worth loving.
my life did not end at 16, when I committed a crime and shattered the world.
no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I bled, I could not change what I had done.
but it is done.
all of it.
and many, many years later, I think I can finally begin close a chapter of my life.
after all, hope grows in the cracks.
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 12:25 AM UTC
Blood oozes down the wall
Or if you find a large puddle of it on the floor
When your kid vomits green & their head spins right around
Or when they levitate above their bed & you can’t get them down
In your dreams, creepy girls sing disturbing rhymes
Or you wake up with deep cuts from a guy with finger knives
Toothless, ***** rednecks look at you with glee
Or when you walk into a house and it tells you to leave
At camp the young, half-naked counsellors turn up dead
Or worse without their head
When the scary tree outside your window tries to eat you
And the closet eats your sister too
Or when her new best friend is the beast
Also coffins start popping up, expelling the deceased
A shark isn’t looking for food anymore, just to ****
Or when its friends seek revenge on your family, people don't believe you & think you’re mentally ill
You’re vulnerable in space, thinking you’re blessed to be on this quest
And suddenly get these aliens that rip through your chest
You see a big guy with a chainsaw and wearing someone else’s face
Or worse makes a full skin body one to wear, seriously what a nutcase
What to do when you know you’re in trouble
Grab a gun, crucifix and holy water in a double
Skip the country and pray you’ll survive
But know deep down inside you may very well die.
Mar 6, 2025
Mar 6, 2025 at 11:26 AM UTC
Everyone knows the book about the king
his power, the counsellors and the grand
palace with all its inner gardens
full of wonderfully scented flowers
but I describe what I have learned
from experienced men, Horsehead
and Goldnavel, about pleasures
in the dark, behind the corners
where shadows cast secrets
of concealed doors to the corridors
through the silent basement maze
where desires are fulfilled
by round beds and soft
women who cover you with sun –
their backs wave and groan
as my nails write immortality
in their skin and their breath
hops like a hare or sighs
like a crescent moon with hairs
that rustle when they lie down
in the wake of my hand
I just let other people
work and rather feast
upon love, night and day
Jan 20, 2020
Jan 20, 2020 at 3:40 AM UTC