Poems Needed by Daniel Hanrahan
we have poems
about madness
and poems written
in states of madness
no poems yet about
the guitar amp buzzing
dark electric fuzz
of the madness sparked
coming off psychmeds
we lack poems...
Hard of Hearing by Francis Fernandes
I kept telling her that Carsten Dahl
is not Carson Dyle for the obvious reason
the former doodles Danish bebop
on the piano with a sort of...
Suicide by Nicola Clare
An ode to the ‘failed’ attempts
Suicide.
Even the word is evocative
And provocative
Charged with emotion and energy,
Memories
And thoughts of what was and what could have been
Had...
The Recidivist by Zak Mucha
Owning just one monkey, if it weighs under
30 lbs., is not illegal in Houston where
neighbors saw a little gray face peeking through the
front room...
Time machine by Hussein Hammoud
One day I got so smart that I built my own time machine. Right away I went back and un-kissed the girl who broke...
The degree of love: Six semesters and the Convocation Day by Navratra
What if couples celebrate pose day instead of rose day? Teaching each other how to stand in
front of the camera could be the best...
Wounded Healer by Samantha Irene
I look into the dark pool
I see colors spinning
Inklings
Of what has yet to become
With one prick of my finger
The ripples of change
Cast outwards
Water cannot...
Bedridden by Joey Marino
I can remember certain feelings, but I can’t feel very well.
I can’t hold someone’s hand because my hands over grip. They squeeze very hard....
Dear Doctor (Unsent Letters) by Rose Y.
Dear Doctor,
Can we please rewind,
slip back in time?
To the first time that we spoke.
You say you don’t remember me
It’s no trouble,
Let’s refresh your memory
I’m...
The Day I Became Schizophrenic
Schizophrenia, to me, is nothing more than a word. All it really means is that you experience psychosis on a regular enough basis that it’s a factor in your life. And that you actually do, as the word “schizophrenia” indicates, have a mind that you share with some sort of outside presence.
Side Effects Include by Anonymous
One day it all seems a little brighter, shoulders a little lighter, head a little higher. Was it the rain overnight, the smell of...
Tragic Comedy by Navratra
Whenever I do something good,
my mother says,
I am just like her,
my father says,
I am just like him
They feel so proud on themselves
and start loving...
25 Years of Consciousness, and They Still Haven’t Cured My Suffering by Sarah Myers
After I went to the Association for the Scientific Study of Consciousness conference this weekend, I sat down with all the consciousness researchers to...
Lady Yellow, Lady Blue by Brighid Aime
2am is a bipolar blessing.
On the one hand,
Her clock ticks, waking worlds away.
On the other…
Dreams tattoo pulses of heart,
Maneuvered by her beaten, brush stroking...
A Mad Poem about Mad Poetry (by a Mad Poet)
Verse! Wild!
Let it be wild and uncontrolled!
Consider not whether it passes muster
In the logic-schools,
Or marks time with the monotonous regularity
Of clopping hooves of horses...
How to Be a Mad Poet by Gregory Luce
How to Be a Mad Poet
First, be mad.
Then own it.
Breathe in the anxiety,
use it as fuel.
You might have to lie down
and breathe through the...
Record Keeping by Karen Adler
And if you come to me all innocent and forlorn
all regretful and torn
between the rightery and the wrongery
gathered in your multitudes
in that field of...
October 1st, 2020 by Hannah E
Today I am 27.
I spent many years of my life in a very dark place. I spent many years suffering without truly understanding why....
A Blessing for Those Who Have No Choice by Carlene Hill Byron
Peace to those
who are not safe
whose locked doors do not hold
whose words are given no meaning
but are taken for authority
to smash and enter and...
To Live and (Almost) Die in L.A.: A Survivor’s Tale
After 25 years of chronic emergency, 22 mental hospitalizations, a stint at a “community mental health center,” 13 years in a "board & care," repeated withdrawals from addictions to legal drugs, and a 12-year marriage, I plan to live every last breath out as a survivor, an advocate, and an artist.
So Who’s Mad, Then? by Richard Plowden
Mad Maddy,
I greet you again and say hello
On yet another fine day
In England in mid-December!
May our darling Greta
Be spared such summery sun
Up north in...
On Becoming a Butterfly by Michael Robin
On Becoming a Butterfly
Little did I know,
the end was just the beginning
Like the caterpillar,
I shed my old skin as if I was supposed to...
The centipede (peace on Earth) by Jeremy Nathan Marks
In a basement classroom paid for
by the leftovers from a public budget
an instructor teaches refugees English
she says her first tongue is pidgin
and laughs like...
don’t let another summer by Ivory Kaufman
don’t let the trees bloom green again
while I lie drugged and still in bed
don’t let the world explode with color
while I see only gray...
Suicide is a Poem by Jay E. Valusek
Suicide is a poem,
I say, and pause.
They do not look convinced.
A tragedy, perhaps, reply their faces.
No rhyme or reason. No heroic meter.
A travesty, at...