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Therapy Poetry

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olson29
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Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Fri Aug 02, 2013 8:40 pm

This is a place to write anything,
just to get it off your chest, pure poetry therapy.
No wrrries about what it will be worth later or if it represents you.
Everyday, thousands of thoughts go through
our head or less, and this stream, this anything is all us.
O, and how pure how poetry it all is.
Let's stop being afraid to record it.
We're all babies, all adults, all perfectly
anything. But something will come of this,
more divine than all the thoughts saying this is not poetry,
delete it, it's not good enough, or stop us from stopping before we start.
The doubts in a writers mind, wondering if they've lost
it, comparing themselves to other things they've wrote and never
giving themselves a true opportunity to break
free, and just write. Remember how it was,
when no one listened, or it didn't matter.
The most precious things would come, and o, how it helped.
It's flawless, because it's life. I need you,
I'm so lost. Help me find my way poetry,
I know no other way to live than with you.
I must releas ethe fear of not making it or being the best.
I just want to be a writer, and if no one else likes it,
that's ok. There's going to be imperceptible, deleteable
storms, but o, agora, they will help all teh poems.
I've got this huge shoebox full of handwritten poems in cursive
from when I was in prison. All these poems, were pure therapy,
uninhibited, just allowed to be. Where did that go (God, I need to
write freely and not stop myself)? They're all so precious, all
steps to unconditional greatness in this omni-perceptible life we all live
all of us in the human condition, the spinless spin in slow motion.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Agnes » Sat Aug 03, 2013 10:06 am

Nothing matters
except when it does,
and even then
it's just a thought.
Desire makes things,
makes matter, makes
pain and poetry appear.
Look. What do you want?
You can't have both
peace and poetry.

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Cat Sith » Sat Aug 03, 2013 12:45 pm

Peace and poetry,
like love and war,
like sex and gore--
it's everywhere.

It
should
not
be.

Be brave.
Break wind
with goblins
and carry on.

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Sat Aug 03, 2013 5:09 pm

Goodbye my friend turned acquaintance.
It was nearly tragic, nearly beyond all
The beauty imaginable. It's exactly as
It's meant to be. I will allow our river to dry.
I could miss our connection
Yet it's infused with your actions.
Somewhere we will always be making
Music, wondering what could have been.
I look into your eyes for the last time
and see nothing.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Agnes » Sun Aug 04, 2013 1:41 pm

Streaming jism and jazz
in the center of the square,
the wild-eyed man stands
strumming his dick like a little guitar.
His goodbye song an accusation
to those who pass near:
See what you made me do
because you won't love me
the way that I want you to.
No, you'll never love me
the way I want you to.
Why can't you love me
the way that I want you to?

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Cat Sith » Sun Aug 04, 2013 5:30 pm

Bewildered, wide-eyed, she watches
people on the street, some fast,
some slow, some with nowhere to go.
It's a dog-eat dog world, she thinks,
glad that she's a cat. Her whiskers
tingle and twitch as a patron leaves
the local seafood shack. She slips
in quietly, steals a fish,and hides
under the nearest table.

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Mon Aug 05, 2013 1:10 am

I want to excommunicate everyone
including myself. My life is spiraling imperfect
mistakes, doing what it was programmed
to do in this time, place; to let people go.

It hurts, what I've lost, but all I can hear
is let it go. We are all so selfish,
and still i act shocked. We are all united,
and still so illusioned by separation.
I'm going to the forest don't join me,
as I stealthfully burn every bridge along the way.

When in the forest all alone, I'll crave others
and continue to suffer until I evolve enough,
enlightened in unconditional inner-peace.
Supposed to be a guru and role model
but you're catching me before it happens. It's tragic,
losing love, and finding truth after the truth changed.

In one place it was a hurricane, the other
a wildfire for ten thousand miles,
and earthquakes, all at once, until they merged
and ended in the same place (gasp). Everything
was destructed along different ways and
our memories, they were able to do anything. We
communicated again, but for humans, too late comes too soon.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Cat Sith » Mon Aug 05, 2013 11:05 am

Today my house is filled with air,
crisp and rare for summer in this humid
hell. I'm not there. I'm trapped inside
a frigid box complete with locks and chains.
No light. No doors. I suffocate. Search
for escape. My fingers tap, tap, tap--
tap, tap, tap. There it is. My key!
It's made of poetry.

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Agnes » Mon Aug 05, 2013 11:11 am

There is no time, no place,
no soon, no late,
no forest, no trees,
There is no one to let go,
no one to cling to, no you or me.
There is no path to cross,
no path to follow,
no words to strike out,
no Buddha to kill.
There is nothing to consider.

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Cat Sith » Mon Aug 05, 2013 11:48 am

I cling to my tree
like death, swinging
from a knotted rope.
The creek is dry. Rocks
are sinister. I consider
nothing.

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Tue Aug 06, 2013 9:36 am

It's wild when I stop blaming others
and take a look at myself. We were
made to be exactly how we are and
everything made us. We are all hypocrites
and all saying the wrong things
until we decide to believe we're saying
the right things. It's funny this
life, it's tragic that all this time
I didn't hurt because of the things that
were happening, but because I
let myself believe they were hurtful
and all that time my thoughts about...
could have been the opposite of hurtful.
But then that's how it was supposed to be
in this infinite grace amongst the ten thousand
things. I'm not hiding, because here, here,
I feel safe. I'm like you, no need
to express the best when we're comfortable
enough to just breathe and be,
we are family, talking about our pain
and healing, we're writing again,
and can't stop because o, something has inspired
us, and whatever it is, our soul is so thankful.
We're changing, releasing the toxicity inside,
available now to be filled with a little more love,
a little more peace, a little more happiness,
like a new born kitty cat, growing and resting.
you are poetry

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Agnes
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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Agnes » Tue Aug 06, 2013 11:48 am

Nothing I see means anything.

We love the lies we tell ourselves
and live our lives dancing in shadows
with the fear that creates the world.
This darkness does not frighten us.
What we fear is our light.

Nothing I see means anything.






http://ezinearticles.com/?The-Ego-Right ... id=7717692

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olson29
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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Wed Aug 07, 2013 10:10 am

Listening to the intuition can hurt relentlessly.
Perhaps I saved myself from greater hurt an suffering,
But my delivery was all wrong, and the beautiful
Home I built with comfort love and beauty was
Crumbled irrepairably. It hurts so bad, and I'm torn
About whether it feels right, but deep down the voice inside
Says it's for the best. Yet I cannot get over my fatal
Mistakes and want to make up for it, but cannot.

I've been meditating, clearing my mind, finding that
It's merely thoughts that are hurting me, only thoughts.
And as time goes on it will all be forgotten or released
There will be a greater peace. What's consuming me will
Be replaced by something nourishing. Yet, with all
The healing that will happen in the future, all the lessons,
I'm still suffering in the present. I'm sorry had to do it
Have to do this, because this is the way, everything will change.
you are poetry

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olson29
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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Thu Aug 15, 2013 10:06 pm

you are my true sister, unconditionally.
Am so thankful for you and
our laughs, all the support
felt when one of us merely
walks into the same room
or thinks of eachother.
As you go forward in life
with your husband and have children,
know you have a brother,
a true brother who loves you
and supports you and is praying for you.
Your smile is in my smile.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby Cat Sith » Wed Aug 21, 2013 1:26 pm

Today

I stole a shovel
from the garden bench
and stomped
into my head.
I thought --

I thought I'd do a little
digging, look for stones
and roots, bugs or --
or maybe plant
some ideas.

There were an awful
lot of holes, I noticed,
so I filled them up
with feathers
and fluff.

Now my head is full
of nests and I'm sitting
at the window, eyes riveted
on the feeder, waiting
for sparrows.


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