Shorter Poems

Here is a choice selection of shorter but still very cool poems that either have been sent to me or I have chosen.  It will hopefully continue to grow (send yours!) but here’s two to kick us off.

I wanted to include this poem somewhere on the site, I’ve nicked it from my good friends Rufus and Elisabeth’s website http://www.opemindedonline.com which you should take a look at.  The poem is by Tim, who I met a few times and sadly passed away recently.  I’m not sure he would have been described as a metalhead (surrealist clown would fit better) but he was very thoughtful about alternative approaches to mental health and this poem of his really is amazing:

40 ways to get sectioned

By Tim Gibbons

Dancing in the malls to the aisle musak
playing with kids toys when awaiting Doctor Klune
singing ditties in a post office queue on prozac
masturbating in graveyards whilst chanting mantras at the moon.
Turning up at the Reichstag dressed as Herr Chancellor Merckel
arguing with a vicar over proof for God by Leibniz
proposing a suicide club for the Ladies Charity Circle
declaring yourself a citizen of the World at a passport checkout in Biarritz.
Asking the way in gibberish German to the local cine-club
taking all your medication at once or off completely coming
speaking to the psychiatrist in West Indian patois dub
a hair salon in an abattoir running.
Going on holiday to Scarborough with an invisible friend
being a closed ward doctor and releasing the patients en-masse
hearing the voices of the dead saying it’s a proper job you need
memorising the ingredients of frozen lasagne to recite at evening mass.
Having 3 months serious depression, now a criminal offence
without money paying all your bills with ear wax instead
declaring yourself your own mother at the local benefits office
telling your neighbour you`ve raised your pet goldfish from the dead.
Trying to complete with the Halle orchestra with a rendition of the Karma Sutra
announcing your unio mystica at the annual workers do
plastering your bedroom with mathematical symbols predicting an uncertain future
conducting a pistol duel to the death in the local zoo.
Falling in love with a door knob in a town called Kimsky-konnorad
awakening your Kundalini at a pensioner’s bingo night
visiting a secure unit and being mistaken for the mad
going to a posh restaurant and ordering sugar and shite.
Going incognito to your own funeral after faking Hari-Kari
overdosing on Bach flower remedies having visions of Douglas Hird
declaring to your GP a mission for one-world Macrame
being completely and utterly lost in a sub-space of Microsoft Word.
Bringing a stuffed bear to therapy as your alter ego, Peter the Cruel
putting on your job questionnaire Shaman and plasterer
teaching physics to street rappers in an inner city school
not sleeping for 6 weeks after inhaling a camping gas canister.
Singing the national anthem at the ending of a movie
starting a cult based on a face you saw in a fish finger
creating a space/time geometry from the sculptures of Brancusi
dysfunctioning on O.U. maths and letting your mind malinger.
Any combination or variation of these things will do
to have you repeatedly locked up in the human version of a zoo.

Another poem was sent in to me by Jim, who is an industrial metal enthusiast and is fast becoming a good heavy metal therapy roadie.  Nice work (and it’s pretty goth in my opinion!)

 

Impressed

 

By Jim Winn

 

Don’t be impressed
By the things bought to impress
By the pain you inflict to make you feel whole
By the self-loathing you bear that I’m forced to endure
By your scheming and greed and self-centred desires
By the things that you watch that you don’t see at all
By your judgements so false that are so far away
You never grew wise as age took it’s toll
As your body decays with the inner corruption
Open your heart and feel the wind blow
Through that hole in your head where your brain used to grow
Who the fuck are you trying to impress?
Impress yourself first before you try to impress