Art, Music, Poetry & Photography : Poems, Poets & Poetry That Help You Through And Through

[ZeroPTSD]

The second thread from AMPP is themed on Poetry.

Feel free to share one of the following...

1. Poems
2. Poetry Books
3. Poets
4. Digital Poetry
5. Multimedia w/Poetic Elements
6. Spoken Word / Performance Poetry

...that have helped you through your PTSD. You can feel free to explain why it helps or helped you as a medium to talk about what happened or how you feel, but you do not have to.

Please feel to post any URLS to any existing poetry or poet websites or site resources (Books, Anthologies etc) related to that topic so that but if they are external then don't actually make it a hyperlink.

One,

The Zero

 

[Hemels]

Hi Zero,

I posted this is the last poetry thread, dunno if it is still here in the forums. :think:

The Lost Child ...

Everyone around the world has a child within them,
But mine is lost, lost deep within my soul,
Trapped inside a memory like a cage,
Deep inside me where I dare not venture,

At night my child cries, screams and wishes to be free,
But no one listens,
No one cares,
No one comes to the rescue of my child,

So she sits and cries and wishes to herself.
No one can help her,
Only she can find the answer to her pain,
Will she listen?

Everyone around the world has a child within them,
But mine is trapped,
Trapped in a memory like a cage ....

Until one day....
When my child FINALLY learns how to forgive ...
Only then Will I Be Free!!!!

Jeni Brown - September 1999.

I written this myself when first suffering alot with my pain. Although back then I was unaware I had PTSD.

Hope you enjoy it :wink:

Hemmy xXx

 

[emmat]

I really find Human Abstract by William Blake very grounding. Not the cheeriest poem, but one that often helps me find perspective when I feel like I'm loosing it.

Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.

And mutual fear brings peace,
Till the selfish loves increase:
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.

He sits down with holy fears,
And waters the grounds with tears;
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot.

Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head;
And the Catterpiller and Fly
Feed on the Mystery.

And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat;
And the Raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade.

The Gods of the earth and sea
Sought thro' Nature to find this Tree;
But their search was all in vain:
There grows one in the Human Brain.

 

[James B.]

I love William Blake. Thanks for posting that poem.

 

[Sterre]

[DLMURL]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51K4cUTuvc0&feature=related[/DLMURL]

In a dream I was a werewolf
My soul was filled with crystal light
Lavender ribbons of rain sang
Ridding my heart of mortal fight

Broken sundown fatherless showdown
Gun hip swollen lip bottle sip, yeah I suck dick
Loose grip on gravity falls sky blinding crumbling walls
River sweep away my memories of
Children's things a young mother's love
Before the yearning song of flesh on flesh
Young hearts burst open wounds bleed fresh
A young brother skinny and tall my older walks
Oceanward and somber, slumber sleeping
Flowers in the water, but I'm just his daughter
Walking down an icy grave leading to my
Schizophrenic father. Weeping willow won't you wallow louder
Searching for my father's power

I'm a shake you off though
Get up on that horse and
Ride into the sunset
Look back with no remorse

He's a black magic wielder some say a witch
Wielded darkness when he was violent, my eyes my arms
And I'm her child and he was the bastard that broke
Up the marriage evil doer doing evil from a baby carriage
And he was born with the same blue eyes
Crystal ships dripping with ice, diamonds coruscate
In the night fireworks electric bright
And now he's got his own two sons
Trys to hide his tears in a world of fun
But loveless bedrooms filled with doom
Bring silent heartache July to June
Swoon over new young heart flame
Mourn the memories later
Laugh now alligator

In a dream my father came to me
And made me swear that I'd keep
What's sacred to me
And if I get the choice to live in his name
I'll pray my way through the rain
Singing oh happy day

I don't mean to close the door
But for the record my heart is sore
You blew through me like bullet holes
Left stains on my sheets and stains on my soul
You left me broke down begging for change
Had to catch a ride with a man who's deranged
He had your hands and my father's face
Another western vampire
Different time same place
I has dreams that brings me sadness
Rain much deeper than a river
Sorrow flow through me
Tiny waves of shivers
Corny movies make me reminisce
They break me down easy on this generic love ship
First kiss frog and princess

I'm a shake you off though
Get up on that horse and
Ride into the sunset
Look back with no remorse

 

[Brontie]

I found this one on the net many years ago.
It had a profound effect on me.


For Children Who Were Broken
it is very hard to mend……

Our pain was rarely spoken
and we hid the truth from friends.

Our parents said they loved us,
but they didn’t act that way.
They broke our hearts
and stole our worth,
with the things that they would say.

We wanted them to love us.
We didn’t know what we did
to make them yell at us
and hit us,
and wish we weren’t their kid.


They’d beat us up and scream at us
and blame us for their lives.
Then they’d hold us close inside their arms
and tell us confusing lies
of how they really loved us –
even though we were BAD,
and how it was OUR fault they hit us,
OUR fault that they were mad.

When days were just beginning
we sometimes prayed for them to end,
and when the pain kept coming,
we learned to just pretend
that we were good
and so were they
and this was just
on of those days …
tomorrow we’d be friends.

We had to believe it so.
We had nowhere else to go.

Each day that we pretended,
we replaced reality
with lies, or dreams,
or angry schemes,
in search of dignity ….
until our lies
got bigger than the truth,
and we had no one real to be

Our bodies were forsaken.
With no safe place to hide,
we learned to stop
hearing and feeling what they did to our outsides.

We tried to make them love us,
till we hated ourselves instead,
and couldn’t see a way out,
and wished that they were dead.
We scared ourselves by thinking that,
and scared ourselves to know,
that we were acting just like them –
and might ever more be so.

To be half the size of a grown-up
and trapped inside their pain….
To every day lose everything
with no savior or refrain…
To wonder how it is possible
that God could so forget
the worthy child you knew you were,
when you had not been damaged yet …
To figure on your fingers
that the years till you’d be grown
enough to leave the torment
and survive away from home,
were more than you could count to,
or more than you could bear,
was the reality we lived in
and we knew it wasn’t fair.

We who grew up broken
are somewhat out of time,
struggling to mend our childhood,
when our peers are in their prime.
Where others find love
and contentment,
we still often have to strive
to remember we are worthy,
and heroes just to be alive.

Some of us are healing.
some are stealing.
Most are passing the anger on.
Some give their lives away to drugs,
or the promise of like beyond.
Some still hide from society.
Some struggle to belong.
But all of us are wishing
the past would not hold on
so long.

There’s a lot of digging down to do
to find the child within,
to love away the ugly pain
and feel innocence again.
There is forgiveness
worthy of angel’s wings
for remembering those at all,
who abused our sacred childhood
and programmed us to fall.
To seek to understand them,
and how their pain became our own,
is to risk the ground we stand on
to climb the mountain home.

The journey is not so lonely
as in the past it s been …
More of us are strong enough
to let the growth begin.
But while we’re trekking
up the mountain
we need everything we’ve got,
to face the adults we have become,
and all that we are not.

So when you see us weary
from the day’s internal climb …
When we find fault
with your best efforts,
or treat imperfection
as purposeful crime …
When you see our quick defenses,
our efforts to control,
our readiness to form a plan
of unrealistic goals …
When we run into a conflict
and fight to the bitter end,
remember …
We think that winning means
we won’t be hurt again.

When we abandon OUR thoughts
and feelings,
to be what we believe YOU
want us to,
or look at trouble we re having,
and want to blame it all on you…
When life calls for new beginnings,
and we fear they re doomed to end,
remember…
Wounded trust is like a wounded knee–
It is very hard to bend.

Please remember this
when we are out of sorts.
Tell us the truth, and be our friend.
For children who were broken…
it is very hard to mend.

Author Unknown

 

[Brontie]

Sometimes

Sometimes I feel like I can't go on.
Storm clouds move in and hide the dawn.
Sometimes shadows are all I can see.
It seems the whole world has abandoned me.
Sometimes my path isn't so clear.
There is only confusion and despair.
Sometimes the struggle is more than I can stand.
Then he reaches out and takes my hand.
Sometimes the world isn't such a bad place.
I think I can make it now, with your grace.

 

[Reclusive]

[DLMURL]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GREC7Ir212o[/DLMURL]
Acquainted with the Night
Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost - The Road Not Taken

 

[mysihba]

Gpaw's Quick Shots 5-20-10 (mysihba) (C) 5/20/10 1.
If God asked you to go fishing.......:
Would you bait His hook ?
The last time I spoke with Him,
He said he ran out of nets,
And since he hasn't been here on earth,
in a physical form for a long time,
He wanted me to go fishing with Him:
Out of the boat.
If He asked you to go fishing,
Would you run, hide or smile ?.....
or say "Thanks for asking"
Cause it's been a long time,
Since I've been fishing with,
my very best Friend.
----------
I haven't seen my last best friend
since I set fire while camping
To my old camping Tent.
No great loss I guess,
It really wasn't my fault.
I was roasting marshmallows,
over the fire on a stick,
I wasn't doing it for me,
I was doing it for him,
my former best friend,
when I got them too close to the fire,
they exploded in Flame.
In an effort to save them....
for my former best friend,
I waved the sticks madly,
to put out the fire,
but the flaming marshmallows,
Just flew off the end,
Flew thru the air, and landed on top
of that old favorite tent.
I flew thru the air,
then tripped on my friend,
then flew thru the air...again
in an effort to put out the flames,
that were now high in the air.
I tried to beat out the flames,
with a sleeping bag,
not yet in the tent.
But the bag caught on fire
and all that I tried,
just made the flames higher,
then promptly went out,
about the time I was melting...
the burning sleeping bag on my head,
I made a dive for the lake
that was close by,
Instead ran over my former best friend.
It's hard to see where one's going
when covered in fire,
Was his fault : him laughing at me
while sitting in a chair,
while I was playing hero,
trying to save the day(and the tent)
He grew very unhappy
when I landed on his lap...
this flaming inferno
that used to be me.
I said "Help...."
Get this thing off of me.
He flung the thing off
and over his head.
I felt a sense of relief....
ahhh, cool night air....
the only thing left on fire,
was his used to be, beard.
And a fierce glow in his eyes
Lots of words I can't mention,
were coming from him,
As I inspected the frame,
of my used to be, tent.
I thought it best not to mention,
while he chased me in circles,
while screaming some...threats,
trying to beat out the fire
on his face and his chin....
that if he moved really quick,
He might move his old pickup
the one now in flames....
Seems the on fire sleeping bag,
landed in the brush
maybe...too close to his old pickup truck
I made a great fire break,
by beating down a wide trail,
in the form of a circle,
around the old pickup truck.
Since he wouldn't stop running,
while screaming those threats,
I figured I'd just run in circles.
Since I had to run in circles,
or risk getting caught....
I ran circles on purpose,
around the old pickup truck,
hoping the fire would burn itself out.
I heard threats of shooting,
saw rocks in the air,
so I jumped in his boat,
paddled like mad, way out in the lake,
thinking he will surely cool off,
about then his boat sunk.
Seems there was a drain plug,
he didn't put in.
I tread water for hours,
until finally I heard,
Sounds of crying from,
our former, camp site.
I swam to the shore,
thinkin' now it was safe,
now I could try,
to calm the old guy down.
I said "all is not lost"
let me cook a marshmallow
over the small fire that remains,
of your used to be, pick up truck,
and we still have bait,
don't need a boat to catch fish
He just stared into space,
and ran down the road,
headed for town
at least in that direction,
according to the dust.
That was the end,
of that former best friend.
I just don't know,
why he took it so hard,
Maybe in part,
I forgot, my tent I burned down,
I borrowed from him,
I still think he is making a big deal,
out of roasting a marshmallow,
during a trip between friends,
Not my fault,
that it got too hot,
I couldn't put it out,
and the beard caught on fire....
and he left the plug out.....
and he didn't put the fire out....
in his sleeping bag, made too hot by.....
trying to roast His marshmallow,
Parking his used to be, pickup truck,
too close to, a soon to be fire.....
GEES, this was just,
a normal fishing trip,
in My book.
I just make poor choices,
in picking, used to be, friends.
Truth be told this was the second tent,
I burned on a trip,
That one belonged to my other former best Friend
So I'm going fishing with God,
A really true Friend,
Who will stick with me,
when I make tiny mistakes,
or even not so tiny mistakes.
Even if I burn down his tent.
( I will try to spare the beard)
I even saved the bait from my last fishing trip.

( I just never know what comes out when I start writing,
but it is a semi-true story...or I will swear that...I thought it was)

 

[Cheshire]

Really great thread. I have a fairly extensive list of songs, books, poetry, music, art etc that help me with things. Different things associating with different moods and different needs.

On the subject of William Blake though, Auguries of Innocence is one that is constantly with me, specifically:

A robin redbreast in a cage
puts all heaven in a rage

Those lines have carried me through a lot of things, the most important thing involving finally making the decision and then putting into action the plan to leave my abusive ex.

Will post more later as I remember them, I think.

 

[Amy Jo]

"my selves dissolving, old whore petticoats" Sylvia Plath, Fever 103

"What's madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?...I know the purity of despair, my shadow pinned against the sweating wall...the edge is what I have...A man goes far to find out what he is--death of the self is a long, tearless night, all natural shapes blazing unnatural light...Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire, my soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly, keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I? A fallen man, I climb out of my fear. The mind enters itself, and God the mind, and one is One, free in the tearing wind." Theodore Roethke "In a Dark Time"

"...And within the brief cirlce in which I live, truth
is a star in orbit
traversing my wounded
body..." Francisco Matos Paoli "The Profound Truth"

"And so you have become a foreigner because your soul could not endure the pain of memory." --Francisco Matos Paoli

"It's only in darkness you
can see the light, only
from emptiness that things start to fill." --Charles Wright from Looking Around

"I need
more of the night before I open
eyes and heart
to illumination. I must still
grow in the dark like a root
not ready, not ready at all." --Denise Levertove "Eye Mask"

"Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing...
Not this troublous
wringing of hands, this dark
ceiling without a star." Plath, "Child"

"First an ego, and then pain, and then the singing." Robert Hass, "Faint Music"

"...This is the hour of lead.
Remembered, if outlived,
as freezing persons recollect the snow.
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go." Emily dickinson "After Great Pain, A Formal feeling Comes"

"To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and
sings,
and is travelled by dark feet and dark wings." Wendell Berry "To Know the Dark"

"...Yet she grows smaller, wrinkling
like a potatoe, parched as dung;
it cramps her like a fist.
Ask no one why the chest has no knobs. Betray
no least suspicion
the necessities within
could vanish at her
will. Try not to think
that as she feeds, gains
specific gravity,
she shrinks, light-
less as the world's
hard core
and the per-
spective drains
in her.
Finally, above all,
you must not ever see,
or let slip one hint you can see,
on the others side, the girl's
cuffs, like cordovan restraints;
forget her bony, tentative wrist,
the half-fed, worrying eyes, and how
she backs out, bows, and tries to bow
out of the scene, grows too ethereal
to make shape inside her dress
and the dress itself is beginning already
to sublime itself away like a vapor
that merges into the emty twinkling
of the air and of the bright wallpaper."
--W. D. Snodgrass "Vuillard: 'The Mother and Sister of the Artist"

*It is not ever an emptiness but a numbed, sacred ache that
will never know grace
or relief
but grief
for all that was taken when we were young.

Got any quotes/favorite lines from poetry?

 

[OKRADLAK]

"Victory shifts from man to man." Homer, Iliad.