Tag: poems

happy pill depression poem birdie fudge

Happy Pill [a poem]

By Birdie Fudge | Featured Contributor


A while back, I went on medication for the first time for my major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety. I wrote poems every day, starting from the first day I took the pill. I used my poetry to track my mood and the timeline of the medicine taking effect. When I look at the poetry written during the beginning of that journey and compare it to now, it’s as if two different people are speaking. This poem reflects me in the beginning of my journey. My other poem, “I am Grateful,” reflects how I feel today.

***

It’s like suddenly
I took this magic pill 
and I was given the gift of reason 
and all my fears seemed to disappear 
my anxieties subsided 
or at least they were dulled out 
beneath the surface 
the layer of fog 
on top of all my other emotions 
became lifted

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Steven Michael Krystal poem phoebemd

A Small Voice from Within [a poem]

By Steven Michael Krystal | Featured Contributor


I have a friend, so do you, 
We share laughs and smiles all day through, 
For all of my life, telling me what to do, 
A small voice from within, tried and true. 

When we are kids, fun and play, 
Days of bliss, all is okay, 
As we grow up, things don’t go our way, 
Life turns amiss, a steep price to pay. 

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Brittny Woss lee

Still Dreaming [a poem]

By Brittny Lee | Featured Contributor


Trees still grow
Flaming crimsons and candy apple greens

On a street where she loved
and lived and sang with the stars

Her dream consumed her
A temptress all in white

Blush red among alabaster cheeks
becoming love tumbling down hills with her dream
Heart beating vital blood
Tendons stretching and breaths coming out in rasps
She reached her goal

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outpatient poem by judith evans

Outpatient [a poem]

By Judith Evans | Featured Contributor


Heavy steps through the clinic door.
Scores of faces, waiting room eyes
Follow my feet to the check-in desk.
Finally, a space for my face near the water cooler.

18 minutes of freedom, wishing our dog were here.
I dream, screaming silently till I hear my name.

Dead down the hall: sterile chairs, swabs, lidocaine,
Blood draw, raw nerves, tsk tsk near the back of my head.
Are you in pain? As if I were deaf.
No space for my face any more.

Meanwhile, it’s snowing.
Will this freeze cease?

Continue reading “Outpatient [a poem]”