To the Psychriatist

 

To the psychiatrist

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Tell her who is resting on your couch,

A cliché we live

Spread amid the movements of planets,

Satellites and stars.

A cliché to live on and on, long

Without solution.

Her ear never hears such chants of days.

Trivial days of life.

 

There is a lonely road of cold dirt

Somewhere in our heart.

Somewhere a single bud of white flower

Held in a lean hand

Of a boy who sells mundane flowers

To foreign tourists.

Doctor, send her a life with hands

Of friends still to be

Lost in oblivion of fences and

Cartographer’s dreams.

 

 

Reviews

[Lorraine Pearson]

"Tell her who is resting on your couch,
A clich� we live
Spread amid the movements of planets,
Satellites and stars."

These opening lines grabbed me immediately. I really enjoyed this piece. What a creative idea...telling the psychiatrist what to tell someone in for treatment! I appreciated the second half tremendously...it sings of hope in the face of reality. Nice piece!
~Lorraiyne

[Pj]

"Her ear never hears such chants of days.
Trivial days of life" This reminds me of the movie, 'Patch Adams'

I really enjoyed this...it made me think over and over again....and I had to read it over and over again.
Absolutely wonderful!

[Emily B]

In my mind I connect the Doctor with the deity that guides and protects. I find it sad that she cannot find herself; that she must go to someone to obtain an identity. What a thought provoking write!

[Cece]

I have been there
But a couch no
I did my speaking
Sitting up to tell
My dreams, my fears

To tell my anxieties
To lose my fear
I must lose my dreams
A lonely road it is

[maiarusm]

For some reason, I felt undeniably sad upon reading this. I might be wrong in my interpretation of it but it seems rather lonely. As if the 'her' being talked about is lost and the one speaking wants her back with him... with them... It is a great piece. Very beautiful, indeed.

[lori c]

...somewhere a single bud of a white flower... did you ever notice that white flowers seem to bloom where there is no hope of life. or where there has been great sorrow ? way down in the heart there is that bud of hope, of unseen joy, what a great whisper to place in the middle. something we all need to be reminded of. ....cartographer's dream... charting yet to be discovered territories. uplifting. psychiatrists fill heads with their psycho babble jargon, and yet here is the answer... lovely words of encouragement and inspiration.

[R J Askew]

Like the idea of life being a cliche...mine feels increasingly like that as I get older. I don't care that there is no solution though. Really like the first two lines of the secod verse. I think it is true for many, especially perhaps those who think too much about all this life business, that it can't but be a little grim. Also like the idea of cartographer's dreams as life is an unmapped place, as in truth do any of us know what this is all about or where we are in reality? We are all tourists here.

The poem also made me think how ridiculous it is going to a psychiatrist about anything. As if there are any solutions and as if a psychiatrist can cure, say unhappiness or confusion or fear any more than an priest can. They all offer lies to soothe us when it is the truth we really cannot face, whatever it is.

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

An intriquing write to learn the doctor over - some very beautiful and haunting images. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha

[Captain Blackheart (The..]

I'm not even going to pretend what this ia abit, coz I don't.lol A intresting piece, but I guess I loss what was happening along the way.

[JC Fox]

Hmm ya know the whole psychiatrist and the couch thing I wonder why that is such a big thing considering one never goes near a couch. Great poem

[Beautifully Tragic xPoe..]

Interesting topic, I think you pulled it off, you are improving with each piece.


Great Write.