Poetry

[SuziDusk]

I have heard from my key worked that if u are one who likes to write, definitely me if u have seen the length of my posts, but writing poetry or short stories etc is a gr8 help for depression and anxiety. It supposedly makes your brain concentrate on the creativity and you are able to express your feelings in words.
I only found out about this yesterday, so havent had a chance to do anything yet, but I was wondering if anyone else had heard this. There is a class just down the road at the Manx Museum for writing to help anxiety, but because I am agoraphobic the thought of going is just enough to start a panic attack, but if I had some positive feed back about it and I could get someone to come with me, it could well be an excellent help for me and enough to be able to get me there.
So anyone do this to help them, if so, can you let me know so I can maybe see if I can get to the class. Obviously I can write at home anyway, but maybe the fact I am amongst people once I can get used to it will be a help for me.

Looking forward to replies
Suzi xxx :yesyes:

[Magic]

Hi There,
TRY wwwallpoetry.com

[bathtub]

I have always found writing to be theraputic and it played a big part in analysing my childhood in terms of Aspergers. It's a great way to look into your own mind safely (for me). just start at home if you don't want to venture out yet. I write about anything and everything, recipes, dreams, stories, quotations ideas and thoughts.

bathtub

[paula lynne]

My poem.

Nobody likes me....everybody hates me, think Im gonna eat some worms......
Fat ones, skinny ones, tall ones, slimey ones....see them wriggle and squirm.....
Bite their heads off.....slurp....all the juice up, throw their skins away............
Nobody knows how much I love those worms, three times a day......

Gross! I remember singing this in junior school.....must have been 1979....funny what you remember!

Paula x:blush:

[munkeyinblack]

yeh poetry is a huge help for me , i post on www.allpoetry.com/munkeyinblack (http://www.allpoetry.com/munkeyinblack). Bill whose on here alot also writes alot and is very talented. It definatly helps calm you down when u need to focus or relax. I would reccomend it to anyone

[Bill]

Well, I couldn't resist replying to a poetry thread, could I Munkey?!:)

Poetry certainly helped me through my very bad phase. I'm not too sure how the poems actually started but I can remember that often a line or 2 would come to mind and I'd feel compelled to write them down from which the words just flowed. It almost felt like a release as if I was letting out feelings that were causing me to feel anxious or sad.

I was staying with my OH at a hotel specifically for mental health sufferers when one day we noticed a young woman sitting alone looking so tearful and very sad. It almost hurt to see her suffering so much although I never actually found out why she was so low. As I glanced at her though, a beginning of a poem came to mind. I wrote it down and just thought about this poor girl and as I thought about her, a poem came into being. I then decided to take a chance by giving it to her in the hope it would help her smile. The next day we went on an outing on a boat up an estuary so I took the opportunity to present it to her. After reading it, she started crying and I thought oh no, I've upset her even more but she then turned to me and said that it had made her feel happier because no one had written her a poem before. I don't know what happened to her after that but at least poetry made her smile for a moment that day.

Poetry not only helps the sufferer. It can also help others feel better too so after my bad spell I decided to try and share my poems with more people in he hope that they too would find a smile.

This was the poem I wrote for that poor young woman. I so much hope she recovered....



Solitude


She wore a green dress and her eyes were blue,
Someone would speak but she knew not who,
For her mind was confused in a hazy hue,
Like looking through droplets of a morning dew,

Images would appear, strange thoughts would flow,
From where they came she did not know,
She wished she could think clear as a winters snow,
But all she could feel was a constant low,

No one would listen, no one knew how,
But she needed help and she needed it now!
She was in such turmoil and surrounded by fear,
She was afraid to talk, for what people might think,
And her eyes would shed a lonely tear,

But help Was there,
Though she knew not from where,
She talked, they listened, they cared,
They were the only ones who understood, and dared!:hugs:

And Munkey, don't forget to apply those words to YOU....Miss."Very Talented!"

[just-jax]

I definitely believe this is true and have written poetry for as long as I can remember, kind of a chicken and egg thing - I don't know what came first, the depression and anxiety or the writing, both started in my teens and both continue today! It certainly helps to be able to channel your emotions and fears into something creative. I find that using the negative energy to be creative rather than destructive helps me to see things in a different light.
I think the statistics on this kind of thing speak for themselves, many great artists/writers/actors suffer with depression and other mental illness, makes you wonder, what comes first? Are depressive people more artistic or are artistic people more depressive?! :)

[paula lynne]

Heres one my mum wrote. God she was funny and I miss her so x

CAKES BY PAM WILLIS

Im spending my well earned retirement
Not on cruising, or leisurely breaks...
On no not me, for Im still slaving...
In my kitchen, baking cakes

Now these cakes arent what youre thinking
No dainties to treat my old man
These beauties come five tiers high love
Six if i possibly can!

How I wish we could really retire
Go on hols at the drop of a hat.....
But thats not our way my Der will say..
The cakes and dogs will see to that

So as for my well earned retirement.?
I feel I am having it rough
Cos its CAKE everyday.
and I really must say........
I cant even stomach the stuff!

[paula lynne]

LOSING IT! by Pam Willis

I lost my virginity, one fine day
Well......I didnt exactly lose it....I sort of..gave it away

Then one day recently my sister said to me
Lets go and look for your virginity!

But though we searched both high and low
We couldnt find it there..
But now Ive lost me libido..
So now i dont really care!

[paula lynne]

Depression by my mum Pam. This is a little hard to read, just found it.

I think Ive got depression
and I know the reason why.
The trouble with depression is,
How much you have to cry

I cry first thing in the morning
I cry last thing at night
I cry sometimes everyday
Even when things are going right.

I cant be bothered to wash my hair
Or even clean my teeth
But I do enjoy a nice hot bath
And could lie there for a week!

Ive lost my sense of humour
Ive forgotten how to smile
Im just a bag of painful bones
A belly full of bile...

Depression? Yes, I know you well
Im a crying selfish wreck
But Im sure I could learn to smile again
Please God-stop this pain in my neck.....

[paula lynne]

Would love to hear any other poems by you tortured creative types! x:D

[munkeyinblack]

ur mum had a talent, i loved them all does she have many more ?

[paula lynne]

About another 20 Munkey...x

[just-jax]

I love your mums way with words, the last one made me cry, she sounds like an amazing lady.
I've posted a few elsewhere on this site but at the risk of whoring my wares I'll re-post a couple here Paula...

It's Dark

by ~just-jax (http://just-jax.deviantart.com/)

Distorted. Twisting sheets of sound.
Past mistakes and doubts arisen.
Barriers of fear and pain
Create the formless, timeless prison.

No physical escape exists,
No safety catch or quick-release.
Through dark and winding consciousness -
A search for fabled inner peace.

Across the vastest, deepest space
The echoes of such things that pass.
Despair, like rain, falls on lost shores
Of tideless tears as still as glass.

No lock or key creates this hold.
No mans hands have placed the chains,
Yet neon lights won't chase the shade,
It's dark. It's dark and it remains.

Beyond My Reach

by ~just-jax (http://just-jax.deviantart.com/)

Like looking through a window
At grass bending in the wind.
Like turning round on an empty road,
To see where I've just been.
Heart rules head, and every time,
I'll stumble and I'll fall.
Back on that empty road again,
And back behind the wall.
Dancing like a firefly,
spins wildly in my hand.
Always just beyond my reach,
Patterns on the sand.
Soft and yet abrasive,
Etch lines on the glass.
It's growing dark and cold out here,
I'm lost and falling fast.

Paradoxically Her

by ~just-jax (http://just-jax.deviantart.com/)

There is no first line.
There is no rhyme.
There is "No".

Passing through me like smoke.
Surrounding me like white noise.


Beautiful yet painful as the sound of breaking glass,
Still these things that come to pass,
They go.


There is no structure.
There is no lesson.
There is "No".


Are these footprints that I walk in yours?
Is the path I have beaten thus far my own?
It is known.


There is no last line.
There is no message.
There is "No".

The Guest List

by ~just-jax (http://just-jax.deviantart.com/)

Yesterday has come and gone,
Tomorrow is at my door.
Washed my hands of feelings past,
Faith lies crying on the floor.
Hope called round whilst you were out
But didn't leave her card.
Says Charity has passed away,
Although he fought so hard.
Anger's waiting on the stairs,
She's been here raising hell,
Might be why Hope couldn't stay,
They don't get on too well.

Writing On A Painters Canvas

by ~just-jax (http://just-jax.deviantart.com/)

I want to paint a picture
Of the things inside my soul.
Of the thoughts and of the feelings,
Little parts that make me whole.
To show you all the colours
And the sounds to make it real,
To put my life on canvas
So you might see how I feel.
Diagrams and patterns of
The tempest that's my brain;
To visually lay out for you
The laughter; love and pain.
To hang up in a gallery
For you, the world, as art -
The passions; fears and turbulence
That rage inside my heart.
The frustrations and the sadness,
the excitement and the joy.
The castles I built in the clouds
And watched myself destroy.
A drawing of the world within -
The dark parts and the light,
The chaos and the calmness
That runs through my head at night.
To tip the balance slightly
So you'd see, instead of read,
The things I hate; the man I love;
the gain; the loss; the need.
I'd like to illustrate my points,
To show you what's inside.
To colour in or pencil out
The faith; the shame; the pride.
I want to paint a picture
Of the things inside my head,
But I'm not that kind of artist -
So I wrote these words instead.

Today And Tomorrow

by ~just-jax (http://just-jax.deviantart.com/)

Turning corners, turning pages, doors slam shut behind.
Burning questions through the ages, answers still to find.
Leaving you believing me, know I'm hung for treason,
Running scared, no where to hide, searching for a reason.
Missing you and losing me, where did I go wrong?
Another line, another fear, pieces of an unsung song.
How can I turn back the time? So many hearts to mend.
Make it work, fix the pain, starting from the end.
So many days, so many tears, lessons I've not learned.
Keep reaching out to touch the flame, fingers long time burned.

I agree with Munkey and I'd love to read more of your mum's poetry if you don't mind posting it Paula. Thank you for taking the time to red some of mine :hugs:

Jackie x