Writing As A Form Of Therapy

[GonePirate]

mind is racing quickly to one million

and just as quickly back to naught

intangible ungraspable alien

my train of thought

has left the station

i chase along the rails

without hesitation

it never fails

to confound me completely

to lose myself to my imagination

how well it beats me

theres tangents of long passed conversation

mixed with a world of my creation

lyrics poems and in all the rest

get it out i try my best

try as i might it just keeps flowing see

but writing is my form of therapy

[GonePirate]

I dunno just sorta wrote that
might add some more of my shizzz in time

ive been writing for about 4 and a half years

poetry that is

if I can come up with something substantial I shall share it until then

drivvle all the days

[GonePirate]

stars...

ive never seen a million of anything

yet i can see millions of stars

out there in the darkness

linked by invisible black arms

just as a moon orbits a planet

as does a planet orbit its sun

and the sun is a star among billions

and it's still nowhere near being done

our sun is the centre of our solar system

found on the outer arms of the wilky way

there are millions of solar systems out there

orbiting around in our galaxy the exact same way

and the galaxy spins around on an axis

as millions of other galaxies are aswell

and the galaxys are in orbit around in the universe

but so slowly its so hard to tell

and the universe as a whole

is fourteen billion years old

and working as a system like a gigantic clock

and we are the tiniest pin on the littlest gear on a minyute little cog

when all there was was blackness

no time nor space

im talking about long time

billions of years before the dawn of our race

there was nothing to behold

there was nothing and noone to find

but out of this absence of all things

time and space intertwined

and exploded cataclysmically

creating all things with a bang that still sings

this was the birth of a universe

and the dawn of all things

and nine billion years later

a star was born

from a cold dense region of space

a cloud had formed

which collapsed on itself

and became the star we call sol

we orbit one hundred and fifty million kms away

and it gives life to us all

and mankind has been around

for but the wink of an eye

and the universe our galaxy and our sun

we will never see die

but one things for sure

there is one thing we may lose

the planet that we have earth

which we continue to abuse

its almost five billion years old

and will survive after us

shake us off like a bad case of flees

so mess and no fuss

where then does that leave us

the poor human race

extinct and forgotten

a victim of time and space

[Silenus]

@GonePirate

Dude... as always, your writing blows me away
What can I say?
You da man...

[Silenus]

This poem was an attempt for me to work on the filter between my mind and my mouth. So often, caught up in the over-reactions and severity of emotional responses that are a part of bipolar, I would show my emotions through words that unfortunately ended up hurting other people.

Nowadays, I allow the thoughts and emotions to be within me. I observe them from a place of peace, and decide how to act upon them in the world of the Really Real, before just blurting out words through my mouth. I believe that this has made me a better person to be around. Much less conflict, fewer hurt feelings...

Before the Word

Before The Word
There was The Sound
Before The Sound
There was The Silence.
Wisdom is knowing
Which to use when.

[Silenus]

Writing as a form of therapy has been very important to me, primarily for one reason. In talk therapy, the person in therapy is helped. When the therapy takes place in written form on a mental health forum, more than just the person in therapy is helped.

What we write - the things we struggle to understand and express, are often parts of the universal human experience. By writing, we share our life stories and journeys, our successes and failures, things that helped and things that harmed. Others can take from those writings what they choose, and integrate into their own lives.

This poem is a homage to writing as a form of therapy...

The Written Word

Therapy
Therapy
Will you help
To set me free?

Only if
Only if
My resolve
To heal is stiff.

I now face
I now face
Demons here
In my dark place.

Written word
Written word
You can help
To make me heard.

I express
I express
How I am
So sorely pressed.

Others hear
Others hear
How I cope
With my dark fear.

I relate
I relate
To all those
Who say it straight.

When we write
When we write
We can help
Others to fight.

Never stop
Never stop
Our stories
Are great to swap.

[Silenus]

This poem grapples with that feeling of being trapped, and of always trying to find the "secret of life".

The more I travel through this life of mine, the more I find that all of the secrets we need to find are already contained within our selves. We are not trapped. We are free. Free to be our selves. Nobody can take this power from us...

Even broken hearts continue to beat. We have an almost limitless capacity to heal ourselves (and unfortunately also to hurt ourselves). But we are free to choose which whispered secrets to listen to...

Whispered Secrets

It’s like life has this great secret, all ready just for me,
But the secret is something that I whispered to myself one day,
A secret that I forgot to listen to somewhere along the way,
But I realise that following this path could truly set me free.

So now I listen to my random whispers, from one day to the next,
But there’s so much crap out there for me, and what do I know?
I am trying so hard to apply myself, and work so hard to grow,
But no matter what happens, I feel so very lost and vexed.

We each have got our paths to go, and places we like to be
Sometimes we have to go against the flow, reaching for a dream,
And we strengthen ourselves, testing our muscle against the stream,
Only to realise that the greatest strength is to be free.

[eth]

Really love "Before the Word" @Silenus.  A snippet I recorded long ago but remember frequently and try to live by ...

How would we walk our talk

If our Word was our god?

[eth]

Hey @Silenus   and others here - I actually penned something new today!!!

A NEW WAY

Cruising in the middle

Sometimes craving the high

Not missing the anger

Used to rage 'til I cried

Nor down as low 

as I used to go

I still have ups and downs

but much milder now

Appreciating the difference

How far I've come since

Feeling such grattitude

What a change of attitude!

__________________________

It's a start to writing again after a few years hiatus.  Feeling a little critical of form but very happy that I made a start.  Thanks again for this thread.

[Silenus]

That's great, @eth!

More power to you. Hurray for creative reawakenings. It's always there, you know, bubbling under the surface, waiting to rise and create anew... 🙂

Love the poem, by the way.

I'm unmedicated, so I still get the highs, but I have been working very very hard at creating a psychological equivalent of psychiatric medication, using all of my coping mechanisms and wellness strategies to try to aim for that similar stable balanced middle ground that psych meds can provide. I have had mixed results, but I continue to try and improve on it all...

Really chuffed, @eth. I'm glad just one more person got something from this thread. My goal in life is to try and help others as I help myself. Together, we are stronger...

Hugs and happy... ahh, you know the rest... hahaha... 🙂