Ptsd poetry anyone?

[mumstheword]

Art therapy - share your work here

I hope you don't mind me linking to a poem I wrote on site last year.
Feel free to ask me to delete if this isn't ok.

 

[TruthSeeker]

Here is a poem inspired by another controlling person at the workplace. I recently found out that others who are his subordinates have named him the Burger King (you know the picture of the Burger King- the big headed guy, cheesy smile, and the big crown).

Beware of the Burger King

There once was a grand Burger King,
Who beneath was a crazy 'ol ding,
So tense, full of drama,
Compensates for his mama,
"I'm so wonderful" we'd hear him sing.

Burger King must be the best of the best,
Ordering others, he puts to the test.
Tons of stress he creates,
And simple problems he inflates,
Resulting in subordinates feeling so stressed!

Control is the name of his game,
His smile and his platitudes so lame,
Grandiose, he must win,
While situations he'll spin,
Making drama, situations he'll inflame.

So be cautious of the grand BK,
Out of nowhere he'll ruin your day,
Stick together, unite.
His behavior's not right,
He will hurt you to get his own way.

 

[TruthSeeker]

Oh Where, Oh Where Do I Belong?

Oh where, oh where do I belong?
Still searching for happiness and me,
To my own family, I'm a nobody,
Never really belonging, all along.

Oh where, oh where do I belong?
Their contempt and hurt seem to follow me,
I just need to break away, and be free.
My kin have done me wrong.

Oh where, oh where do I belong?
Walk away, head held high, and don't look back,
Into color, away from black,
To a place where I'm not always wrong.

Oh where, oh where do I belong?
With open arms and trusting souls,
Away from degrading insidious controls.
Where people get along.

Oh where, oh where do I belong?
I keep yearning for my place,
Without malice and disgrace,
I keep searching... I must stay strong.

Oh where, oh where do I belong?
Over the rainbow, near the sun,
In a beautiful world so full of fun,
Where people hold hands in loving song.
This is where I belong.

 

[TruthSeeker]

Sunday morning poetry for procrastination (It is cleaning day). One last poem.....hopefully funny.

Cleaning really isn't my style,
It certainly doesn't bring on a smile,
Biding time, with poetry,
In the name of therapy!
Putting things off can be good once in a while!

 

[Changing4Best]

Cleaning Ain't No Fun

Yup, I can agree
a cleaning spree
is not my idea
of how to be happy!

Scrubbing bubbles
scouring pans
is something
that can ruins plans.

SpiritSong

 

[TruthSeeker]

A Struggle to Clean My Kitchen Today

Today was very tough,
And my kitchen looked so rough,
Piled with dirty pots and pans,
And mildewed tomato cans.

This brought stress and disgrace,
Frustrated, there was no counter space,
The stovetop was all greasy grimy,
And in the sink, a black crockpot so very slimy.

No forks or spoons, I kid you not,
And I'd used every single plate and pot,
Two weeks I'd let it really go,
Now I'd wished I'd had a kitchen backhoe!

But from the depths, and deep within,
I knew I had to just begin,
With musicians arriving at here at 1:30,
The kitchen just couldn't be that dirty.

Tucked in bed, I said a'bitchen
"I must go straight into the kitchen,
clean it up, don't be a disgrace,
My kitchen I must face."

So resolved I started to clean,
I worked for hours like a scouring machine,
Finally, all done and so proud,
And now I was ready for my crowd!

(And music was exceptionally great!)

 

[TruthSeeker]

Cleaning Ain't No Fun

Yup, I can agree
a cleaning spree...

Very cute poem.....made me think about my kitchen, and my struggle today to clean it up...I procrastinate so.....I responded with another cleaning poem. ;)

 

[Changing4Best]

Yes, the depression that having been through traumas and triggers sometimes makes it impossible to clean. I know that feeling. I am just too heavy to move and yet I must do so somehow. It is an awful heavy heave to get going when one is in this frame of mind and physical shape. After a winter of being indoors and no real pleasurable exercise, one is so out of shape. That is what I have been going through this weekend, when I tried to clean.

Whirlwind Vacuum

Every hair I lost
for the last week
is tangled in the vac
which starts to creak

SpiritSong

 

[TruthSeeker]

Ok, so since we really don't enjoy cleaning, let's reframe as something positive....for fun. ;)

A New Perspective on Cleaning (A personification of cleaning)

Cleaning, cleaning I can’t wait!
Next week, we’ll have a cleaning date.
Cleaning, cleaning oh such fun!
I’ll feel much better when you’re done!

Cleaning, cleaning it’s good for me,
Improves my house hygienically,
Cleaning, cleaning a fine delight,
When my place is shiny, I feel just right!

Cleaning, cleaning I love you so,
My face is shining.... all aglow.
Time spent with you, now you’re my friend,
We could be together..... without end.

Now every day, we have a clean-up date.
I show up early, I’m never late!
With my best friend, Ms. Pristine Spotless,
I have fallen in love with the cleaning process.

:wacky:

 

[AllisonStern]

What a talented group! I'm seriously blown away by this poetry. I wrote this PTSD poem awhile back (on a family roadtrip, fun fun). It's not about cleaning, but it'll do ;)

Curved Road
I'm chained naked to a table
My head forced forward to watch
Men in white coats busy themselves around the room
A tv screen is lit on the ceiling
A dull hum as I lay here
Showing pictures of the past on repeat
Everything I've loved and lost
Or things I wish to forget
The interrogators bring steel rods
And heat them with the spark of my mind
And prod my bare skin with each painful memory
Again and again as memories flash past
Pink welts form and I cringe against my restraints
Screams and moans rack my body
"Shh, that's no way to behave."
"How old are you?"
"What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?"
"Here let me hug you."
I tense away from the gesture knowing another prod is soon to come
And I mustn't scream with them there
That's not appropriate.
I watch the image of a dark winding road;
A girl standing over me in a treehouse;
Asking the time from the boy I've kissed to hear "f*cking c*nt";
Putting headphones in to ignore mom getting called a whore;
A cigarette is lit in my mouth
My head feels fuzzy
A finger invades my vagina
"This feels good right?" A drugged protest escapes my lips
"I don't know...."
Dirty hands smooth down my stomach
A man cleans his hands in my hair
The picture of a boy stroking my chin flashes past
Fists connect painfully with my skull
I push against my restraints again
Another series of prods burns my skin
My mind's flame flares
The tv plays on
Men in white coats jot down notes
Distant voices drone
The door closes.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm fine. Go away."

 

[Angrylittlebird]

I get a lot out of reading and writing poetry. I wrote this today......anyone else got a poem, some lin...

YOUR POEM REMINDS ME OF ONE OF MINE ABOUT BEING ALL ALONE AND ABLE TO TRUST NOONE. I’M A GRANDMOTHER TOO.
RAW:
My eyes are raw
My sight restored
The glint you see
My heart abhorred

Experience past
Alone and broken
No comfort had
The child, sins' token

Truth forbidden
Lips seared shut
The horrors hidden
Lonely pain, unjust

My protectors rendered
Shamed, conquered
My comforters
Their love surrendered

To afflicted self
In deepest grief
My own; their affliction,
There was no relief

Alone! Alone!
Pain and fear
Alone! Alone!
There's noone dear

Raw my eyes
Raw my heart
Raw my senses
My loves depart

Left to the child
Wounds untold
To cripple heart
In fear, alone

And I am RAW.

 

[Angrylittlebird]

Ok, so since we really don't enjoy cleaning, let's reframe as something positive....for fun. ;)

A N...

I tried to hit like, I REALLY did! But my stomach lurched and my eyes dared my finger to tap that liar (the “like” button)!!!