"ratched" poems
Annoyance from the brains relased toxins I can't control. Dominance over my mind and soul. Hearing through ears on repeat remembering each peice of food on record. Dieing inside the soul from ratched cycles. ADHD, ADHD, ADHD.
I have it do you?
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
The Grasshopper made the
Ants work through strife
Forcing them to feed him,
While scaring a bug’s life.
Hidden in the large empty locker
Is where you’ll find little kid *****
Trying everyday to conceal himself
From the big school bully.
Fur coats is all she wanted
But puppies she’d carelessly ****
And dogs would cringe
From the voice of Cruella DeVil.
Wizards and witches
All magic the same
Would often speak of him
But not say his name.
Blond hair and blue eyes
Is the only way to go.
Hitler’s the leader
So Aushiwtz you go!
He’ll keep you on the farm
Appearing to work for all
But he’s just like those pigs,
Napoleon and Snowball.
Although a fine nurse
Thought to make good calls,
You, Nurse Ratched,
Are just like them all.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
He frightens me.
McMurphy.
It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt true fear but
He really scares me.
Not him as an individual of course,
In a one-on-one battle of wits or physicality
I would come out on top.
I have the resources.
But I see how he rallies the others,
and that poses a threat to my control.
I like control.
Even more than that though
I crave it, need it.
I must have control over this hospital.
Most people have control over their own lives,
It keeps them sane.
Not me.
It was taken from me long ago.
His name was Paul.
My mom brought him home one night,
calling him my “new daddy”.
I was only eight years old,
Not old enough to know this was more of her crap.
I just trusted.
I figured it out
Soon after he started hitting me.
He wasn’t any sort of father,
But he had just as much control over me.
After that I just remember
an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
Years passed,
more men came and went,
None of it mattered.
My life was no longer my own.
I would never control it again.
When I turned eighteen,
The best part of my life began.
I joined the army.
It changed everything.
No,
I did not regain control of my life.
But I learned a way to cope.
To ease the helplessness.
I learned to take control
Of others.
It was enough
to at least keep me sane
for the remainder of my life.
And then I ended up here.
At this hospital.
An easy way of life,
Controlling the weak.
Society has already worn them down
I just need to keep them that way.
It keeps me as happy as I can ever be.
I won’t let him ruin it.
He will not take away
My last little bit of sanity.
I will have
Control.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
on what side the bed she may fall out of
when 4 pm comes around,
depends , portends which one of her I come
home to.
She may be Happy hilarious good mood
Beatrice, that
is a day I cherish,
or if she falls off the end she may be sultry all go for it
Sadie , with her world of tricks lined up,
their numbers in her hand,
If perchance she never gets out the stove is cold the cats all
fuss, the dog has ****** all
over the house,
and she is comatose Katie,
She one time got off on her knees,
I came home about ten-thirty for lunch to find
a shrine built out of every ring necklace
pearl she could find piled up in a heap
by the fireplace , and her in a sarong
chanting, she said she was Bodhisattva,
a nice day is when she arises with healing thoughts,
dresses in that white dress those hose
the comfy nurse shoes, and greets me at
the door with her stethoscope,
I say Hi, Nurse Ratched!
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC