Therapy Poems - Poems about Therapy

At a certain point You just learn Not to take The cheese....

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His hands are trembling, his gait a shuffle, sometimes his voice is no more than a muffle. His balance is off, he’s had many falls, sometimes to begin walking, there’s several stalls. Some days are good, others are fair; some days it seems like his mind is hardly there. He’s so optimistic, despite his condition; to help him...

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though many men, (especially former Norwegian bachelor farmers from Lake Woebegone, - but one presently wedded to another female for not quite thirty orbitz around Mister sun) seek a booty call compliments of Facebook (Meta) Messenger yours truly (me - a married Neanderthal - who just learned how to walk erect this morning) does fumfer and forestall profusely groveling and figuratively backpedaling when upbraided, interrogated, and accused of spouting...

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In the quiet of my mind, a river flows, Not from here, nor there, just where creation knows. With every stroke, I find my way, A voice emerging in the light of day. This is who I am, a writer’s soul lay bare upon pages to be, Ink of truth and dreams that make me. Just be yourself, it whispers in...

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Therapy again. Every week. All over. Like pollen. Falls onto my shirt. Brushing my sleeve. Empty brushing. Then burning up, toxic burning. My therapist asks about next week. Shaking a bit. Next week, I have a different appointment on Tuesday. Wednesday is all the same. I’m doing as horrible as ever. Has anyone ever wondered...

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I leave the sun-dappled autumn sidewalk, entering the office The empty chair there lingers. dark tendrils coiling in my mind— my blind rage pleading for quiet healing. flashbacks clash like striking thunder opening buried treasures of truth. and in that final brand searing cry My heart reborn, mindlessly adrift in spectral mist. I gladly depart as sleet glazes, streets so slick….. ...

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Therapist releases patient...

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Chiropractor not the only one who yanks and pulls...

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Miami International Airport has something most airports do not they have trained therapy dogs ready for hugs and cuddles I am unsure how I can find one but if I get to Miami, I will be looking for one....

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Four minutes before therapy. The waiting room. A painting of flowers. I check the time. Three minutes before therapy. My therapist is getting a drink and she’s tired today. Flipping through a magazine. Before therapy. There is one minute. I’ve already thought of everything. We could try, we could try… The painting that watches me every week. It doesn’t have eyes, just flowers that look like...

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An open window. My hands tapping on the windowsill. We don’t have so many wasps. That sting. The breeze comes in. Words come in. Strangers can walk by all they want. When fall starts, they stop caring. All we care about are donuts and apple cider. That’s fall. That’s September. A leaf can stick to my shoe. A...

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I went to my car dealer, I hoped to save the planet The saleslady told me EVs were cheap, and to call her Janet She said we've got so many subsidies, and they're a great deal I bought a F-150 Lightning truck, thought it was a steal Janet waved as I drove off, then drank some champagne Her staff slapped...

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I’m taking control, making changes. Some for the worst, others for the best. I don’t like to evade or retreat. My secrets are inconsequential. I’m taking things into my own hands - I kissed my therapist. On the lips. Life is but a game of ‘Smash or pass’ and I hate waiting for ice cream. “I like the way you move,” he said,...

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Somehow my deepest desire, Is just a walk in the rain, A break from the monotonous routine, What has made life so mundane, Company not a necessity, Being alone is no longer foreign, Yesterday history, tomorrow mystery, Yet present in itself feels jarring, Persistent bickering, A constant hunger for a way out, Happiness surrounding me, Yet sorrow engulfs like a drought, Birds chirping, And the clouds start to...

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I saw two eastern tiger swallowtails today. I watched as they flickered, fluttered, and frolicked, rising and dipping. A calm breeze gently passed my way. In the distance, a boy mirthfully turned and flipped. A sanguine sun coyly peeked through tall pines and sweet gums. Then a gentle voice came and caressed my ears. I savored sweet breaths...

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