Posts Tagged Mental health

call out the marines

A U.S. Marine rappels from a UH-1N Huey helico...

A U.S. Marine rappels from a UH-1N Huey helicopter. (Photo credit: Official U.S. Navy Imagery)

a poor mentally ill women with a baby in the car
is shot and killed by the capital police
as the national debt heads us towards the cliffs
along the same path as the government of Greece

an unexplained bitter taste is left
so, I move my tongue around in my mouth
then I suddenly have a hacking cough
as if a dry dusty wind is coming up from the south

the sun slowly sets on a far distant horizon
as shadows of nothingness surround and swallow me
and my withered old soul is floating alone and lost
somewhere, in an endless dark blue sea

I am left bewildered and wondering
just what life and all this sadness means
and will we ever come to our senses
in time to call out the marines


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corner of my eye

Corner of My Eye

Corner of My Eye (Photo credit: Dead Air)

I thought I saw a motion
out of the corner of my eye
like long legs quickly moving
with a brief glimpse of shapely thigh

but there was nobody there
for I was in my room all alone
still, just to be sure, I turned around
bravely facing into the unknown

a little shiver went down my back
which is a natural reaction, I suppose
as I wondered if there was another dimension
about which nobody really knows

a world just slightly out of step
but so very close and nearby
always just a little out of focus
hiding out of the corner of my eye



in the blast radius

Blast Radius

Blast Radius (Photo credit: grimescene)

while I hear the rats scurry in the dark
I hope that I’ve safely locked my bedroom door
as I hide in the dark alone and wait
in this private place of gothic horror

I guess that I was caught in the blast radius
but it’s okay, because I don’t feel any pain
instead, I am left totally cold and numb
and feeling lost and disconnected again

a sudden shrieking scream and I would jump
clean out of my skin if I wasn’t all but broken
I suppose that I should probably explain
but perhaps some things are better left unspoken

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ballad of just another fine day

Yard Work

Yard Work (Photo credit: mbgrigby)

it’s late, late at night
and my daughter is singing like a banshee
there’s nothing I can do but turn over in bed
and say ‘oh, woe is me’

I hear her saying ‘I am not the devil’
which is good to know
although, I already live in a place
where it hardly ever snows

and now that my son
and his dear family have moved out
I am rediscovering what fun
doing my yard work is all about

I am sore in muscles and places
of which modern medicine is unaware
as the yard was a little out of control
which is neither here nor there

I’m sure my neighbors are thinking
that ‘it is about time!’
and in the end, I suppose
everything will turn out to be fine

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my new year’s reality

Happy new year

Happy new year (Photo credit: Amodiovalerio Verde)

I hear loud noises and festive shouts outside
to mark the beginning of a happy new year
but I am sitting quietly in my room
sadly thinking of my daughter that isn’t here

she’s in a behavioral health center again
where I know she is getting much needed care
and at this stage it seems quite unlikely
that she even understands that she is there

I think of her Christmas presents unopened downstairs
wishing for a gift that could cure her mental misery
but no such gift exists under this or any tree
and this is the hard facts of my new year’s reality

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the revolving door

Revolving door (base)

Revolving door (base) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

the revolving door
that leaves you
where you started
from the beginning
in the very end
and wherever you go
there you are
which is
not exactly
where you want to be
but it is
where you are anyway



ash tray number 2

Cigarette butts in ash tray.

Cigarette butts in ash tray. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

although, we live in the same house
we are not really in the same home
I live in this harsh physical reality
while you live in some world of your own

will I miss your smoking and the gambling debts
when one sad day I find that you are actually gone?
or will I finally be the lucky one
and be the first to move on?

will I remember the far distant good times?
the time before, when we were as close as one
when we were young and in our world full of promise
back when this now fractured family first begun

long years of separation has left me wondering
how I will respond to the approaching inevitable
will love return and break this old shriveled weary heart
or will the years have left me safe and impenetrable?

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broken promises

Broken Promises?

Broken Promises? (Photo credit: iampeas)

she has a history of broken promises
like the worst kind of politician
if I could only change that fact
I would be some kind of a magician

but I know that it’s not really her fault
and it is better for me to just forgive
for there are real mental illness issues
that together we must overcome to live

still sometimes I can’t help but feel hurt
each time that she has again let me down
and each time it gets a littler harder
to restore my smile from a heart broken frown



the voices

Paul Gauguin: Eve - Don't Listen to the Liar (...

Paul Gauguin: Eve – Don’t Listen to the Liar (1889, Watecolor and paste) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

she was scared she said
from the voices in her head

I can’t imagine what that is like
with no way to say “go, take a hike”

with no place that I could go
to just listen to the grass grow

to be left without the choice
of not hearing a scary voice

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ballad of the crafty caterwaul

CAT look

CAT look (Photo credit:

the crafty caterwaul was singing at the moon at noon
so I looked at my watch and I knew it was far too soon

she sank into an abyss surrounded by primordial giant cyclops
waiting for aliens to visit while singing along to her ipod

all the house cats looked at me as if it was all my fault
then I looked over my shoulder and was turned into a pillar of salt

the bunny in the backyard outran our little barking dog
while digging holes looking for a way out of this crazy yard

then the caterwaul gave me a fearsome look as if she may have to gut me
and I prayed to the gods of humor to set my chained spirit free

then the solar powered Christmas lights came on without explanation
while the caterwaul said some words which refused google translation

so I crawled into my easy chair attempting to blog my cares away
but for me and the crafty caterwaul, this is just another day

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delete permanently

Dont Panic

Dont Panic (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

the spam comment promised me a cure
for panic attacks that I didn’t even know I ever had
just click here to stop all the panic attacks
that unbeknownst to me must be making me feel so bad

it promised a simple click to a cure
that could stop all my anxiety attacks now
just click here to end all those endless
anxiety attacks that must furrow my heavy brow

so simply, all I had to do was click here
to stop all my unnecessary panicking and anxiety
but instead, I thought it would be more effective
to just click on “delete permanently”

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the serenade of sorrow


Microphone (Photo credit: visual.dichotomy)

last night she serenaded us
singing loudly out of tune all night from her room
I tried to get some sleep but tossed and turned in my bed
fighting off an ever present uneasy sense of gloom

sometimes she goes for days
without coming out of her room or eating
or she briefly peeks out and runs away
without so much as a greeting

now her room is all silent
and we are all left wondering
is she still alive in there or in the quiet
has doom snuck in and come a plundering

there is nothing more for her that is in my power to do
and so sometimes I near the end of my rope
but I guess despite all my unanswered prayers
as long as she is still here, there is always some hope

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lithuim, lamentations and love

English: An American Lady butterfly against a ...

English: An American Lady butterfly against a cloud-filled sky. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I wonder if all our minds are somehow interconnected
by some as yet undetected electromagnetic mental force
so I sit in my room for hours and try to think good thoughts
and hope that for all that is evil, I am not the source

my mom

my mom was called manic-depressive when I grew up
and I remember thinking Lithium was such a miracle
when she began taking that instead of all those tranquilizers
my life became a little bit less satirical

“remember to put the dog in the dishwasher”
she once drowsily mumbled to me after school
I knew she meant to feed the dog and to do the dishes
for my momma didn’t raise no silly fool

imagine a big black and white springer spaniel
with his whole body wagging with love
springing out of a little kitchen dishwasher
and shaking water off like you never dreamed of

my dad told me many years later that mom tried
to take infant me and run out the front door one day
yelling that I was the antichrist or the devil or something
I guess I’m lucky dad was there and didn’t let her have her way

I suppose since my mom said that I’m the antichrist
I’m coming off as something of a disappointment to you
sorry about that, maybe later I’ll figure out
just what evil it was that I was supposed to do

my wife

many years later, sometime after our second child was born
my wife was diagnosed as suffering from bipolar disorder
not sure if the new name for the same old thing helps or not
maybe it does, but that’s really a tall order

and I never saw this mental illness coming
but dad later told me he knew all along
perhaps I was blinded by bipolar love
and I should write that as my life’s theme song

or maybe reincarnation, that’s the ticket
in a past life, I must have been one hell of a heel
must have spent a cruel lifetime working overtime
stacking my future karmic deck with the cards that I must now deal

I got up one day and my wife was crying
she said someone was following her in a white van
wearing a white wig and trying to kill her
which isn’t the kind of thing for which I had any game plan

later they said she also suffered from schizophrenia
that knowledge didn’t really help me much
although they have so many new drugs besides lithium
all the dolls: haldol, risperdal and such

and each drug they tried created an alternative reality
a new woman in my wife’s body that I hadn’t met before
just a little different than the woman that I once knew
and a little scary standing there in my bedroom door

one day the county Sheriff knocked on my door
he found her out bowling in the middle of West Linne Road
he never told me if she struck out or not, he just pointed out
a bowling alley in the street was against the local building code

my daughter

now, my final heartbreak for my daughter also suffers
and the doctors sit and argue whether she is bipolar or schizophrenic
no one can explain why the medicine doesn’t seem to be working
so sometimes I wonder if the whole world is pathogenic

my sweet daughter used to be so close to me
she once gave me a card on a mother’s day
saying that I was both dad and mother to her
now when she sees me she often just runs away

at least she is taking her meds and sometimes is doing ok
but the doctors still don’t really seem to have a clue
so I now I am back where I started
wondering if perhaps I am the source of this sadness, too?

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she’s just browsing

Shopping Mall

Shopping Mall (Photo credit: Ian Junor)

alone pushing a half empty cart
walking from each store front window to the next
touching endless racks and stacks
looking over rows and rows of objects

most of the time, she’s not shopping
she’s just browsing
browsing her way though her life
like the ultimate shopping mall

what is she looking for, I wonder?
today’s deal of the day
or buy one get one free
I only hope someday she finds happiness is on clearance

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