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Healing Poetry

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Posted 15 February 2002 - 09:28 AM

OK, just *one* last one, then i'll leave you all alone!! lol This is my favourite one....... (((more huggles))

                 MY DECLARATION OF SELF-ESTEEM - Virginia Satir  

I am me.

In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. There are persons who have some parts like me, but no one adds up exactly like me. Therefore, everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone choose it.

I own everything about me - my body, including everything it does; my mind, including all my thoughts and ideas; my eyes, including the images of all they behold; my feelings, whatever they might be anger, joy, frustration, love, disappointment, excitement; my mouth, and all the words that come out of it, polite, sweet or rough, correct or incorrect; my voice, loud or soft; and all my actions, whether they be to others or myself.

I own my own fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears.

I own all my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes.

Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with me in all my parts. I can then make it possible for all of me to work in my best interests.

I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know. But as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for the solutions to the puzzles and for ways to find out more about me.

However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is me.

This is authentic and represents where I am at that moment in time.

When I review later how I looked and sounded, what I said and did, and how I thought and felt, some parts may turn out to be unfitting. I can discard that which is unfitting, and keep that which proved fitting, and invent something new for that which I discarded.

I can see, hear, feel, think, say and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me.

I own me, and therefore I can engineer me.

I am me and

                                 I AM OKAY !!!!!!

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Posted 08 March 2002 - 02:30 PM

Missoula Rape poem

There is no difference between being raped
and being pushed down a flight of cement steps
except that the wounds also bleed inside.

There is no difference between being raped
and being run over by a truck
except that afterwards men ask you if you enjoyed it.

There is no difference between being raped
and losing a hand in a mowing machine
except that doctors don't want to get involved,
and police wear a knowing smirk,
and in small towns you become a veteran whore.

There is no difference between being raped
and going head first through a windshield
except that afterwards you are afraid
not of cars
but half the human race.

-Marge Piercy

#3 cubby

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Posted 10 July 2002 - 09:57 AM

I love this poem:

in time of daffodils (who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why, remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so (forgetting seem)

in time of roses (who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if, remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me, remember me

     - e.e. cummings

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Posted 12 October 2002 - 09:35 AM

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 are having,
and want to blame it all on you...
When life calls for new beginnings,
and we fear they re doomed to end,
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.

by Elia Wise

#5 Donna

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Posted 18 February 2003 - 01:54 AM

A good friend of mine sent me this a long time ago...

~ When we live our life, we leave a trail. We can choose if it is a trail of light, or darkness. It is what we leave behind when we are gone. Sometimes we don't see the impact we have on others. That is because we are facing forward and do not see the light left behind us. But we leave an impact, all the same. By seeing our own Light, we see the perfection within us. For we are mirrors for each other. When we see the effect we have on others, we see universal love at work.

Loving oneself is where it all begins. Seeing the beauty within us, reflecting off of those around us, is the first step to seeing our true spirit selves. ~
~ Joan St.John ~

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Posted 01 March 2003 - 08:34 AM

How happily she crys
as she sails the angry seas.
Spreading out the ashes
of things that used to be.
Ready to face the things
that hurt her all these years.
Tired of running from feelings
and deep internal fears.
She'll look to the sunlight
and let it warm her skin.
It's time to end the fight
and find some peace within.

From a 16 year old poet.....

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Posted 15 February 2002 - 09:12 AM

Hey all

A new thread for healing poems. Thanks Cookie for the suggestion.



(Edited by aoife at 3:35 pm on Feb. 15, 2002)

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Posted 15 February 2002 - 09:25 AM

OK, sorry.. here's for #2  :biggrin:

                           When You Feel You Can't Go On

I'm sorry that you're hurting so desperately right now. I know how painful the seconds, and minutes, and days can be, how long the nights are. I understand how very hard hanging on is, and how much courage it takes.

I ask though that you hold onto one day at a time. Just one day, and slowly this despair will pass. The feelings you fear you're trapped in will serve their purpose, and then fade away. Difficult to imagine isn't it? Almost impossible to believe when every cell in your body it seems cries out in agony, desperately in need of comfort. When it feels like the only thing in the whole world that can touch your pain and banish it is beyond your grasp. And after all this time, the assurance that you will heal has become an empty, broken promise.

Just let one tiny cell in your body continue to believe in the promise of healing. Just one. You can surrender every other cell to your despair. Just that one little cell of faith that you can heal and be whole again is enough to keep you going, is enough to lead you through the darkness. Although it can't banish your suffering, it can sustain you until the time comes for you to let your pain go. And the letting go can only occur in it's own time, as much as we would like to push the pain away forever.

Hold on. Hold on to appreciate the beauty of the earth, to feel the songs of the birds in your heart, to learn and to teach, to laugh a genuine laugh, to dance on the beach, to rest peacefully, to experience contentment, to want to be no other place but in the here and now, to trust in yourself, and to trust your life.

Hold on because it's worth the terrible waiting. Hold on because you are worthy. Hold on because the wisdom that will follow you out of this darkness will be a tremendous gift. Hold on because you have so much love and joy waiting to be experienced. Hold on because life is precious, even though it can bring terrible losses. Hold on because there is so much that you can't now imagine waiting ahead on your journey - a destiny that only you can fulfill. Hold on although your exhausted and your grasp is shaky, and you want more than anything to let go sometimes, hold on even though. Please hold on.

So much in life can be difficult, even impossible to understand. I know, I know... So many of us have cried in despair, why? why? why? and still the answers and the comfort failed to show. Survival can be a long and lonely road, in spite of all those who've stumbled down the path before you. And it can be a treacherous, torturous journey - so easy to get lost, and yet impossible to avoid even one painful step.

And the light, the light at the end of the dark tunnel for so long cannot be seen, although eventually you'll begin to feel its' warmth as you move forward. And forward you must move in order to get through the #### of remembering, of despair, of rage, of grief. Keep looking forward please. Rest if you must, doubt your ability to survive the journey if you have to, but never let go of the guide ropes, although when you close your fingers around them, your hands feel empty, they are there. Please trust me, they are there.

When you're exhausted, when all you have to count on is a weakened, weary faith, hold on. When you think you want to die, hold on until you recognize that it's not death you seek, but for the pain to go away. Hold on, because this darkness will surely fade away. Hold on. Please hold on.

Tammie Byram Fowles, LISW, Ph.D

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Posted 15 February 2002 - 11:34 AM

This is a poem that I keep with me in my planner at all times and that I have stuck to my bulletin board next to my computer.  

The Friend in your Mirror

Speak Gently to youself.
    Speak Freely
in praise of all you are.
    Speak Clearly
with pride in all you've been.
    Speak Bravely
with hope for all you may become.
    Find in yourself
the powers that only you possess,
    the pains
that only you can oversome,
    the promises
that only you can keep.
    Look Deeply
into the mirror of your life
 and discover the very special person
    that only you can be.
Edward Cunningham

This poem was writen by a very close friend of mine.  It just came out in the end of an online conversation.

I am with you tonight
willing your peaceful sleep,
lulling your tired spirit into rest,
relaxing every muscle.
Release worry nightmare and darkness.
Breathe in calm and peace.
Let tonight be the beginning of sound sleep.
Remember this as you drift off.
Give away you dreams to me.
I will hold them for you.

They both mean alot to me and remind me of a lot of my friends here.

Take Care all

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Posted 15 February 2002 - 12:24 PM

sorry..have to add another one...im an english major and i love poetry....

Alone by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhoods hour I have not been
As others were-- I have not sseen
As others saw-- I could not bring
My passions from a comman spring-
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow-- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone--
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone--
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still--
From the torrent, or the fountain--
From the red cliff of the mountain--
From the sun that round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold--
From the lightening in the sky
As it pass'd me fly ing by--
From the thunder, and the storm--
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

i had never read a poem that got my emotions down so perfectly.  maybe i'm maudlin, but i love the dreary stuff...

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Posted 14 March 2002 - 10:38 PM

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

"Still I Rise"

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

(Edited by alex0228 at 11:48 pm on Mar. 14, 2002)

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Posted 27 March 2002 - 06:09 PM

Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It's in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

One of my all time favorites, and one of the first that helped me begin to accept myself as MYSELF, without the need to change outwardly.

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Posted 05 July 2002 - 01:05 PM

i just wrote this an hour ago...:sad:

Broken spirits
Full of shame
Full of sorrow
Full of pain
All these questions
All our cries
Eat away and drown us
Again the beauty within us dies
Why does filthiness still tend
To fill us with sorrow
When will it finally end?
When will You hold us ?
When will you heal us?
When will all our wounds finally mend?
Do You see us?
Do You see?
Do you hear us cry out in agony?
I'm trying to believe
I'm trying to trust
But, I see all my my effort
Turn into dust
I'm trying to believe You
I'm trying so hard to see
I'm trying to trust that You do care for me
I'm told that You cried
When you saw what he did
But why did You let happen?
Why didn't you protect me?
Oh, Jesus sweet Jesus
I'm sorry for this doubt
Please help me Lord, Jesus
Please cast this pain out

#14 Donna

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Posted 10 July 2002 - 07:54 PM

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

~Robert Frost

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Posted 16 September 2002 - 01:45 PM

A child's heart should never be broken...

I want so much to get out
to get away from my thoughts and fears
of the outside world
How do I expect to live a life
if I'm sitting in my room everyday
and all my chances go forward
while I continue to move backward
in confusion?
I don't understand my fear
what am I afraid of anyway?  - January 18,1999

I can smell you on my skin
throughout the day
what is that smell?
burning flesh
eating away at my bones
teraing apart my soul
do you see
what you have done?
You have destroyed my existence
my life
my bery being
I WILL FIND YOU  -August 21,2001

Catastrophic tendencies
flow through my hand
onto this paper
and all you can do
is sit there and read my words
but do you have any idea
what they mean?
do you have any clue
as to how I got here
how I can write such terrible things
and think such terrible thoughts
you have no clue
no idea
no excuse for me
to tell to anyone
and all I hear is laughter
and see your eyes
staring blankly back at mine
the wind caresses your skin
can you feel the fingers
cruising over your body
doesn't that frighten you
make you want to scream out
in the dead of night
wake you from your dream
and wish it was
don't laugh
don't laugh
my ears bleed from the sound
of your breath
heavy and hot against my neck
rough skin
rough movements
doesn't that feel good?
do you remember it
do you remember last night
I came into your room
you don't remember
but it was so good
I remember it
maybe I can tell you later
or even show you again
don't tell
it's a secret
blinding lights from the ceiling
imprints from the seat
try to take them off
they won't come off
can't get rid of them
of the lines
the thoughts
the pressure
I can't breathe
I'm going to sleep
see you in my dreams   -sometime in 2001

These are my own poems I wrote from my own experiences..I had a counselor tell me once, "if it wasn't for your poems, you'd be dead." i was suicidal at the time....

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