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Healing Poetry

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#46 kittykat

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Posted 15 March 2008 - 05:35 AM

I don't know whether this is classed as poetry but was sent to me at a difficult time. It helped me so I thought I would share it


to live according to my own conscience, not someone else's.

to make my own choices about priorities, and live accordingly.

to make decisions based on my feelings, intuition, values, needs, capabilities or anything I choose to base them on.

to say no to anything that I'm not prepared to do.

to refuse anything that's against my values or feels too dangerous.

to protect myself from threatening behaviour, humiliating attitudes and hurtful words.

not to trust and believe in people and things that don't feel trustworthy or credible.

to say yes to whatever helps my own growth and well-being.

to trust and believe in people and things on whatever grounds I choose to.

to forgive others and myself.

to find and learn to know my inner child.

to feel whatever I feel about my past.

to have all feelings I do, and to express them.

to be disappointed and sad for what I didn't get even though I'd have needed it, or what I got and didn't want to have.

to be angry even at one I love, when (s)he frustrates my needs or violates my rights.

to be fearful, feel unsafe and be careful.

to feel good when someone else feels bad, and vice versa.

to ask for what I feel: closeness, distance, togetherness, privacy, etc.

to take care of myself.

to want, dream of, and long for anything.

have my feelings, needs, values, wants and choices appreciated.

not to assume responsibility and guilt for others' feelings, needs, values, choices or behaviour.

to expect another person to act honestly and justly.

to be different: more healthy, sicker, weaker, stronger, more hung up, less hung up etc. than others.

to be tempted, to fail, to make mistakes and to be imperfect.

to learn, to change and to grow, anytime and all the time.

As I'm not a slave of my rights, I also have the right to give up any right I have, but from now on I'm going to do it out of love -- never out of fear any more.


to respect these as all other people's rights, too.

#47 lyrie

  • Guilt and Peace cannot reside in the same house.

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Posted 08 September 2008 - 08:02 PM

Memory Shouldn't Be...
by Frank Ochberg, MD

and Gift From Within
June, 1993

Shouldn't be
Shards of a broken dream
Secret pain
Shouldn't strain
Breathlessly to scream
I know the where
I know the when
I know the who too well
Believe me or believe me not
I have a truth to tell

But Mother, if you cannot hear
I'll keep your peace
A day, a year. Forever
If you doubt and fear
Convinces me to silence

Your Honor, if the proof you seek
Is rusted, lost
Too old, too weak, forgotten
Then I shall not speak
Dismiss my plea with silence

It matters not who hears the voice
Once I have understood
The thunder of the truth untold
Will echo in the wood
And judges naked in their robes
Will shudder at the gate
How thin the cloth of innocence
Against the chill of hate

Shouldn't be
Shards of a broken dream
Secret pain
Shouldn't strain
Breathlessly to scream
I know the where
I know the when
I know the who too well
Believe me or believe me not
I have a truth to tell

#48 Grown_From_Tears

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Posted 31 December 2008 - 01:41 AM

I wrote this today... its about how everything that i used to be angry at, everything that i used to hate about myself, i now find to be the most wonderful thigns about me. I love that i have the past that i have, it made me who i am today.
i am happy. this poem is how i am telling people that.

Iíve seen this broken sky before:
A golden rod upon the moor;
And up from mountainís fountain springs
Fields of roses, natureís king.

Iíve sat upon this grass at times:
Contemplating ancient rhymes.
Their message sits atop Godís tree,
Like playful goblins, they take flee.

Iíve felt these stinging tears a lot,
Emotions sway from heroís plot.
Their life a battle once before,
Now battered armor on His shore.

Iíve seen the sky, the grass, my tears.
Iíve seen the world through childís fears.
Iíve seen this life in favorís doubt,
I saw it, then I lived without.

Now as I sit upon this life,
A smile spreads like courageís wife.
I will brawl with seven sins,
I will fight, not die, but win.

Iíve seen this broken sky before,
Not once, till now, did I see more.

#49 BrokenGirl

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Posted 31 December 2008 - 03:48 PM

I wrote this myself..

Every lust penatrate the soul
filling up with fear
The silent scream leaves my lips
how could anyone hear?
the silence now that chokes me,
noone could Not fear.....
fingers bloody evidence.
pass through my pounding neck.
through eyes of blinded chaos i see
his true intent..
Seconds drawing closer
against my fighting breath.
Silence so surrounding, save me from this death
black, am i passed out?
dazed mind stop thinking. shredded heart stop beating
helpful eyes glue yourselves shut
pressure growing stronger, more than i can bare; Stronger
Mind can only scream 'how much longer'
every muscle fighting: nothing, not a chance
with one last glance: hair so red, dyed with sweat and blood
Legs of betrayal support the face of evil
Eyes of masked furry
Stop grabbing at my soul
your hands with twisted fingers
are stealing it from its bed.
pain, awake me from this nightmare
heart witness your loves divere
again and again so full and now gone
eyes of masked furry behind each blink with thunder
awaken sweet savior
immortal i stand
With hands of twisted fingers
Ripping fate from its bed

#50 MatthewJ123

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Posted 25 January 2009 - 12:05 AM

Stacey Ann Chin - if only out of vanity. such an awesome awesome AWESOME poet.

If only out of vanity
I have wondered what kind of woman I will be

when I am well past the summer of my raging youth

Will I still be raising revolutionary flags

and making impassioned speeches

that stir up anger in the hearts of pseudo-liberals

dressed in navy-blue conservative wear

In those years when I am grateful

I still have a good sturdy bladder

that does not leak undigested prune juice

onto diapersóno longer adorable

will I be more grateful for that

than for any forward movement in any current political cause

and will it have been worth it then

Will it have been worth the long hours

of not sleeping

that produced little more than reams

of badly written verses that catapulted me into literary spasms

but did not even whet the appetite

of the three Oí clock crowd

in the least respected of the New York poetry cafes

Will I wish then that I had taken that job working at the bank

or the one to watch that old lady drool

all over her soft boiled eggs

as she tells me how she was a raving beauty in the sixties

how she could have had any man she wanted

but she chose the one least likely to succeed

and thatís why when the son of a bitch died

she had to move into this place

because it was government subsidized

Will I tell my young attendant

how slender I was then

and paint for her pictures

of the young me more beautiful than I ever was

if only to make her forget the shriveled paper skin

the stained but even dental plates

and the faint smell of urine that tends to linger

in places built especially for revolutionaries

whose causes have been won

or forgotten

Will I still be lesbian then

or will the church or family finally convince me

to marry some man with a smaller dick

than the one my woman uses to afford me

violent and multiple orgasms

Will the staff smile at me

humor my eccentricities to my face

but laugh at me in their private resting rooms

saying she must have been something in her day

Most days I donít know what I will be like then

but everydayóI know what I want to be now

I want to be that voice that makes Guilani

so scared he hires two (butch) black bodyguards

I want to write the poem

that The New York Times cannot print

because it might start some kind of black or lesbian

or even a white revolution

I want to go to secret meetings and under the guise

of female friendship I want to bed the women

of those young and eager revolutionaries

with too much zeal for their cause

and too little passion for the women

who follow them from city to city

all the while waiting in separate rooms

I want to be forty years old

and weigh three hundred pounds

and ride a motorcycle in the wintertime

with four hell raising children

and a one hundred ten pound female lover

who writes poetry about my life

and my children and loves me

like no one has ever loved me before

I want to be the girl your parents will use

as a bad example of a lady

I want to be the dyke who likes to fuck men

I want to be the politician who never lies

I want to be the girl who never cries

I want to go down in history

in a chapter marked miscellaneous

because the writers could find

no other way to categorize me

In this world where classification is key

I want to erase the straight lines

So I can be me

(i love the last couple of stanzas the most) youtube this woman to hear this poem performed to get a sense of its true amazing nature

#51 healingspirit

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Posted 19 November 2010 - 03:46 PM

This is a poem by Becky Birtha that has helped me a lot:

You are not broken, beautiful child
Nothing about you is wrong
Other people have made their mistakes on you
but you survived.

You are whole
you will heal
you will be all you ever wanted.
you no longer remain the victim of those years.

Your body is yours
you can fill it with joy
your thoughts are in your control
you feelings are as free as the sound of chiming bells.

you are loved,
you are lovable, beautiful child.
you always were
you are forgiven.

While I now don't really agree that the poem should say "you are forgiven" because there is nothing that we need to be forgiven for because we did nothing wrong, when I'm in a dark place I still feel like I need forgiveness and that line helps.

#52 Sammie1987

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Posted 28 April 2011 - 09:17 AM

This was a poem I wrote myself, so would like to share with you all...

Behind Her Eyes - By Sammie RP

A smile can deceive you through night and day,
Not everyone is honest when they say there okay.
Look into the eyes as they can not lie,
Look for the tears she does not cry.

A wish would be helpful if it was to come true,
But she always knows her life without you.
When the nights are dark she's the one alone,
Wishing there was someone else to come home.

You'll grab her by the heart then crush it in a glance,
Attract her with your charm and lie with your dance.
She see's not your game but believes all your lie's,
But only in her heart will you hear her crie's.

She knows nothing better then words un-spoken,
With her carrie's a heart that has been left broken.
But remember always she'll be perfectly Okay,
You can hurt her again on another day.

Don't guide her to the path of hurt tomorrow,
As she is the only one to feel the sorrow.
Give her no pain to feel deep inside,
For her there is no where else to hide.

This girl has nothing left to which she can lose,
Just a Broken heart with a gentle fuse.
So send her more pain and tell her more lie's
Because she'll never allow you the tears she crie's.

She will carry on and pick herself up right,
But she will still be alone on a cold dark night.
So even when she believe's all of your lie's,
Remember there's much more Behind Her Eyes

#53 Sammie1987

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Posted 28 April 2011 - 09:20 AM

This is another poem I wrote based on the abuse I went through as a child, I want to share this with you all as I think you will be able to relate to this...

My Scars Tell A Story - By Sammie RP

When I look in the mirror I do not see just me,
I see a little lost girl the one I use to be.
The girl that hid away the pain throughout the years,
All the hurt and anger covered up with un-cried tears.

The woman who has done that and been there,
A little lonely soul searching for someone to care.
Through many paths I have crossed and walked a while,
All the time I hide the hurt and show the oscar smile.

Betrayal became a friend of mine. Loneliness too,
All the while I waited for someone like you.
Just someone to wipe the tears away when these eyes do cry,
Life can be hard at times and people will always lie.

I choose the way I wanted to live, the person I wanted to be,
See I am no longer a victim anymore I'm simply just me.
So yes I have this past of mine which is no happy ending,
But I choose not to follow it, this heart of mine is mending.

No matter what I do though, these scars I will always wear,
They are not something you can erase an wish they was not there.
Marked by them always, in my heart they dived,
But my scars they tell a story they say that I survived!!!

#54 michaeljoseph

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Posted 04 June 2012 - 02:59 PM

Just Imagine
Imagine a world where children
are free to be who they are.
There is no room for harm or danger,
and they feel safe and secure.

Imagine your life as it is now.
You are an adult and you can stay safe.
There is no room for more pain and hurt.
You need to be safe and secure.

Reach out and touch a life to make it better.
This is part of my hope for a better world.
Together we can make a difference for those
Who are still hurting and being hurt.

Imagine a boy or a girl today being hurt in ways that you were.
Open your arms to all those that are hurting.
There is no time like the present
to make a difference in someone's life.

Imagine a world with only love with no hate.
Where people greet each other with kindness,
and help each other out without a question.
A world full of peace and harmony

Imagine something better than where you are.
I place to feel safe and secure, so you can
be free to find your true self, and share
your new freedom with others who feel as you do.

Just Imagine
and see where it takes you.

Michael Joseph

#55 michaeljoseph

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Posted 04 June 2012 - 03:07 PM

Do Not Shadow the Good Stuff

Looking back at yesterday
do not shadow the good stuff!
sometimes the pain and hurt may stay
and the flower you picked is thrown away

Was Monday so bad?
Did you see the smile she gave you?
sometimes the pain and hurt hide
what good we feel deep inside

Did Tuesday provide something swell?
Or did you only see the decay inside?
sometimes it is hard to see
the good in things like friends like me!

Did Wednesday show any sunshine?
was there someone to hold you?
sometimes a stanger can be the light
that makes your week turn out bright!

By Thursday was there a glimmer of hope?
The kind old man that listened so well?
sometimes it takes the bad to see all the good
and finally to know that someone understood!

On Friday was it just the end of the work week?
Or did someone remind you of some wonderful thought?
sometimes a kind word is all you need
to clean up your garden of one bad weed!

Itís Saturday and rest is swell
a smile works wonders while with a friend
sometimes happiness shows up like a gift
and behold a wonderful new life shift!

Sunday I hope the week brought some life
surrounding you with sunshine and joy
sometimes you need to breathe deep and see
all the wonderful things life brings to thee.

Each day, week, and year brings so many feelings
choose a beautiful song for the scrapbook in your mind
sometimes we need to sense some pleasure
wonderful memories become your treasure.

By Michael Joseph

#56 ShawnCrane

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Posted 06 January 2013 - 08:42 PM

Apart of Me by ShawnCrane (October 31, 2012)

What you see on the surface is kosher
Tranquil, just like a sedative
I keep the lid sealed on the exposure
Holding back all the negative
Never letting it see the light of day
In this shell, I hide away
These masks camoflauge and disguise my face
Even if I try to escape
This rage will be there wherever I go
Turning me into a psycho
A destructive twisting, spinning cyclone
Raining down, reflecting my soul
Its a mirror image looking at me
And we're both the catastrophe
Living hell where the screams are maddening
Everyday is a tragedy
So I close my eyes praying it will end
But my mind won't let me pretend
It shows me the same sequence once again
Painted the color of bloodshed
Everything's dead, fading into darkness
And nothing's left except carnage
Going back to where it started
An option long since departed
I open my eyes, its gone in a flash
I'm still here and safe from the past
I wonder how long these memories last
Next thing I know, it all went black

#57 ray1986

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Posted 09 January 2013 - 07:15 AM

Dive by SLAM poet Andrea Gibson

i often repeat myself
and the second time's a lie

i love you
i love you
see what i mean i don't
...and i do

and i'm not talking about a girl i might be kissing on
i'm talking about this world i'm blissing on
and hating
at the exact same time
see life---doesn't rhyme

it's bullets...and wind chimes
it's lynchings...and birthday parties
it's the rope that ties the noose
and the rope that hangs the backyard swing
it's a boy about to take his life
and with the knife to his wrist
he's thinking of only two things
his father's fist
and his mother's kiss
and he can't stop crying

it's wanting tonight to speak
the most honest poem i've ever spoken in my life
not knowing if that poem should bring you closer
to living or dying
drowning of flying
cause life doesn't rhyme

last night i prayed myself to sleep
woke this morning
to find god's obituary scrolled in tears on my sheets
then walked outside to hear my neighbor
erasing ten thousand years of hard labor
with a single note of his violin
and the sound of the traffic rang like a hymn
as the holiest leaf of autumn fell from a plastic tree limb
beautiful ---and ugly

like right now
i'm needing nothing more than for you to hug me
and if you do
i'm gonna scream like a caged bird
see...life doesn't rhyme

sometimes love is a vulgar word
sometimes hate calls itself peace on the nightly news
i've heard saints preaching truths
that would have burned me at the stake
i've heard poets tellin lies that made me believe in heaven

sometimes i picture hitler at seven years old
a paint brush in his hand at school
thinkin what color should i paint my soul

sometimes i remember myself
with track marks on my tongue
from shooting up convictions
that would have hung innocent men from trees
have you ever seen a mother falling to her knees
the day her son dies in a war she voted for

can you imagine how many gay teen-age lives were saved
the day matthew shepherd died

could there have been anything louder
than the noise inside his father's head
when he begged the jury
please don't take the lives of the men
who turned my son's skull to powder
and i know nothing would make my family prouder
than giving up everything i believe in
still nothing keeps me believing
like the sound of my mother breathing

life doesn't rhyme

it's tasting your rapist's breath
on the neck of a woman who loves you more
than anyone has loved you before
then feeling holy as jesus
beneath the hands of a one night stand
who's calling somebody else's name

it's you never feelin more greedy
than when you're handing out dollars to the needy
it's my not eating meat for the last seven years
then seeing the kindest eyes i've ever seen in my life
on the face of a man with a branding iron in his hand
and a beat down baby calf wailing at his feet

it's choking on your beliefs
it's your worst sin saving your fucking life
it's the devil's knife carving holes into you soul
so angels will have a place to make their way inside

life doesn't rhyme

life is poetry --- not math
all the world's a stage
but the stage is a meditation mat

you tilt your head back

you breathe
when your heart is broken you plant seeds in the cracks
and you pray for rain

and you teach your sons and daughters
there are sharks in the water

but the only way to survive
is to breathe deep

and dive

#58 michaeljoseph

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Posted 24 December 2013 - 12:39 PM

a child's heart should never ever be broken

#59 afriendinspirit

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Posted 05 August 2014 - 01:55 PM

Theres a side 2 rape, thats not spoken.
Where Friendships are lost & Families are broken.
Theres a side 2 rape, that Touches Lives.
Where theres cultural silence, rape survives.
Theres a side of rape that blames for sure.
At times it's taught, their now unpure.
Theres a side 2 rape, when you just hear.
That can fill your thoughts with pain & fear.
Theres a side 2 rape, depending on whose involved.
If it's investigated or if it's solved.
Theres a side of rape if viewed by others.
More tend to become, lustul brothers.
Theres a side of rape, depending on whom.
If the Seed of Truth is Allowed To Bloom.
Theres a side of rape, even at war.
Thats not okay, thats' for Sure.
Theres a side of rape, all really should know.
When culturals deal with it, rape can't grow.
Theres a side of rape, many don't feel.
Most times were blamed, thats for real.
Theres a side 2 rape ,when we can not provide.
In the wave of flashbacks, in Lifes tide.
Theres a side of rape, even with the eyes.
Theres lack of Respect, where Honor flies.
Theres a side of rape, depending on how many times.
How Wounded we become, from rape & crimes.
Theres a side of rape, that breaks the Bond of Trust.
Lots of times it's not talked about, uncontrolled lust.
Theres a side of rape, the guys gossip to.
And were are preyed on more, by a few.
Theres a side of rape, GOD Knows All.
And any type.... is against GOD'S Law !
Theres a side of rape , if its Us or a Friend.
That Wounds Our Soul, if Justice is pretend.
Theres a side of rape, if it's our Child.
In the Field of Life, where trust grows wild.
Theres a side of rape, when none care, if we tell.
Its alot more difficult, 4 us 2 get well.
Theres a side of rape, if we can't turn the page.
It effects Our Growth, in Lifes stage.
Theres a side of rape, that effects our trust.
Though it's not our fault, uncontrolled lust.
Theres a side of rape, if they have connections.
Our Friends will scatter, Our Past Protections
Theres a side of rape, that all should know.
If not dealt with Properly, the rapes will grow.
Theres a side of rape, that must be written & said.
When men seek to control their lust, rapes not fed.
Theres a side of rape, that can be a Good Thing 2.
Raise them Right, & the rapes will be few.
Theres a side of rape, Where We Can Relate To Others.
Mothers, Daughters, Friends.......Sisters, Brothers !

4 all those silent voices, really not heard.
Because in some societys, rapes a bad word.

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