True Psychiatric Therapy

If you believe your ancestors came from a zoo,

Then let it be as mine were formed by a Creator,

And, yet, you ‘love’ to listen to others’ troubles,

Care for them, identify factors and ‘cure’ them,

Funny how you would not make ‘awkward’ noises–

And, yet, your pitiful neurons failed to realise

That their basic function in creating connections

Between he and it needs a start and an end,

But, you see, they do not know nor do you,

For that fact, you have failed to appreciate

The basic purpose of life and gained a degree

In “human medical zoology” if that makes sense.

Now, you know there is a reason for emotions,

Depression does not occur out-of-the-blue,

Rather, non-biological, i.e. behavioural factors

Come into play in the lives of poor individuals,

At the same time, this means nothing if your

Ancestors came from a zoo where inferior skills

Are used to teach rather than a humane talk,

A conversation that involves reasons and proof,

A conversation directed to the Creator for help,

Yes, regretfully, you lack a big gap within yourself,

A gap that forms an abyss that grows in idiots,

Without faith, truly, you are worse than an animal.

Friday, 30^thof March 2012

Mental

Finally, I have understood my own soul and mind,

I appreciate these vague trivial past experiences,

Acknowledging the existence of these reactions,

At last, something to grasp hold of and to heal.

Self-diagnosis is often wrong but here is the thing:

Depression at times and manic episodes at others,

I feel not doing anything and yet I am the president,

I enjoy doing everything but never a completed task.

Though, I am normal from a normal within a normal,

And yet, labelled as ‘mentally ill’ I might or never be,

And to you, my reader, this is but a fascinating story,

Of one’s self reporting about how to rule the world.

Thursday, 22^ndof March 2012

Gathering Data

He woke up from this drown,
Opened the grey wall to eat,
Wrote with watch and flesh,
But, the fire withdraws again,
And to me he decided to jump,
Once again drowned in the bed,
… I guess!

He woke up from this hazard,
With shoes off and sand to hear,
Rain to thunder as him to knot,
Ran on the fish drinking grass,
Smelt roads as he read the light,
No more, to his brain, he gave up,
… I guess!

Thursday, 15th of October 2009

The Art of the Brain

I’ve seen England’s flag when I was a young kid,
But the human brain is just significantly fabulous,
Opening the house’s windows drilling through its vault,
Not gold or money that is stored; rather complex roads,
Highways, intersections, bridges, and extensive tunnels,
Its specialty is fancy express electric rollercoasters,
For their absence you and I are nothing but useless art.

10th of June 2009

This Ruby Flesh

This piece of dancing ruby flesh in my vast chest,
Is restrained in an empty ‘rest in blackness’ cage,
No light can penetrate those enormous white guards,
No dark can escape this inevitable gloomy prison,
Once cherished; now this treasure is to be concealed.

Emotions rush into its deepest caves… dreams shatter.

There, negativity heaves me into fragile crumbles,
There, optimism ignores my pathetic pity presence,
Persisting due to that arrogant chief executive officer,
White and crimson, the means of hierarchy and command,
This electric rollercoaster, from the flesh; isolation in process.

Emotions rush into its furthest bounds… dreams develop.

Lightness blossoms within the limits of endless dreams,
Growing exponentially dispersing every bit of shade,
And within it do children of life battle this ageing war,
Reviving nothing but a dancing piece of ruby flesh,
Idolised in a throne, in my vast ‘rest in brightness’ cage.

——-
Written on the 23rd of June 2009
Modified until the 27th of June 2009