2008-05-13
poetry corner
Some work produced for the MindFreedom Creative Revolution Retreat held July 2007. This in recognition of mental health awareness month.
IN THE ACUPUNCTURE WORKSHOP
WHAT IS HIS AXIS ONE?
WHAT IS HIS AXIS ONE?
The smartly dressed psychiatrist
Practically yelled across the room.
WHAT IS HIS AXIS ONE?
She cried out, the sharp glint in her eyes
almost bouncing light off her
Severe
designer earrings.
WITHOUT KNOWING HIS AXIS ONE
I’m not certain we can treat him
There are, after all, standards for admission
They have to be met!
And if we cannot determine his Axis One
He doesn’t meet the standard.
But we’ll never determine his Axis One
If all he does today during this meeting
is just sit there –
Crying.
EASTERN
When I was a kid
the place where I lived
was a squat cinder block building
they called “the Cottage”.
Inside there was a rubber room
with thickly lined walls
one could slam ones’ self into
without really doing much harm.
I got to spend a bit of time there
when I was bad.
This was nothing like the room they used
the next door over
for the really bad kids.
When a really bad kid went into that room
the Counselors would call the rest of us together
in the hallway, outside the room
where we could look through the window in the door.
Through that window
we could see, four feet above the floor
the brown tinged blocks
as we would watch
a fresh application get added
to the otherwise white walls.
“If you are really bad
You’ll get to go in there too!”
lesson learned.
If you were only partly bad
You get the rubber room.
At least, there, you get to be left alone.
IN THE ACUPUNCTURE WORKSHOP
In the acupuncture workshop
the breeze closes one door
then opens another - literally
Each of us comes seeking healing
for maladies never discussed.
Then we wait.
and participate in the group
wherein we do not speak
yet get connected.
I have no idea if this treatment will work.
If this seems disconcerting I wonder -
How much different is this
from a blind-faith trust in medication
and otherwise invasive procedures
Such as they are.
So many have faith without even knowing
If those procedures work at all
Give me then, instead
The cool breeze that opened the door.
Labels: mental health, poetry, psychiatric survivors
¶ 21:16
