Having had the often dramatic invitation to sit and talk with numerous if not hundreds of psychotic people have developed some poetry written just from their voice. Trying to hear, listen and engage with individuals who must deal daily with similar verbal intrusions, pray I’ve come close to their constant barrage of voices that often want to control them. And using my poetic expression ‘Conversations With Psychosis,’ these voices of unreason that are dangerous sometimes, I hope that I have written about a  fraction of the anarchies that are against those stolen human souls and minds.

The Mind, The Last Adventure… We can go to Saturn, Pluto and Jupiter, but we don’t know a humane treatment for psychosis..We have barely touched the tips of their states of minds.

To the schizophrenics, I dedicate this poetry series.

Conversations With Psychosis

Over The Valley and Through The Woods of Brain Matter
Often, I sit held captive to meandering thoughts about life
Questioning and answering these frivolous voices asking
This and that and hearing myself talk and the vocal vibrations
That seem wise and and silly, and they are my closest friends
They correct me, and hear me, answer me, and implore me
Annoy me with their constant asking beginning with, “why.”
We talk about God and children and the animal kingdom
The butterflies and bats and deciduous delicate opinions
Of others who seem to have all that I don’t possess, but yes
Must confess~ Thoughts are no more than human profess
And they wander in and out the dark places of my mind
Weaving to and fro and there they go to be replaced
By another question asking, “how does the world turn
Or isn’t it odd~ that is ~ the pale oval shape of The Moon
Beams that are brilliant and kept me awake~ last night
Fully lit my room, peeping through the window shades
And in the shadows always waiting to ask more questions
Like I know, keeping me alert on my brains tippy-toes
Voices of amusement, voices of wonder, voices voices
Psychosis often confused with man’s ditactic eternal gnosis
God I need hypnosis to rid me of allegorical brainey mitosis
Whimsical metaphors comparable to a quaint cathedral
Holding me captive hyperkinetic clairvoyant attractions
And you think that I don’t understand? I’m silent; but see.

©2017 BJ

Conversations With Psychosis (number 2)

Who are you? I asked the one hiding in the shadows.

What do you want? I hear you and see you but you ~

Are not clear and you whisper to someone else. Those.

Disclose now! I tell you. What would you have of me?

Gleefully you beast you laugh, loose nothing, carefree

Taking advantage of a sick mind, you are lordly, unkind

Gripping minds, gossiping alluring beguiling with signs

Couriers, alerts, commands, urgings and announcements

So innocently requesting mandates and harsh judgements

Tell me again? What did you ask? To cut? So pungent

That voice sounds like God! Shh! Hush! Its Him calling

No misjudgments, yes, no repugnance, how often will ~

You visit me. It’s love; it’s hate, but you’re my only friend

You’re not evil or troubling; you’re an angel condemned

A godsend, yes, your voices, those friends~ I will defend

Hush now! They’re coming! Quiet! They’ll find you out.

My lips are sealed now, but you take over my mouth~

And say the most horrible things and I squat and crouch

Around the corner dressed in white, they come with needles

A team of them, they whom you fear, “I hate you!” Peoples

Think they live under steeples who rid you from mine ears

Letting you go again, but you’ll be back, I have no fears

What? You’re shaking from fright being torn from my body

As the drugs enter into my bloodstream, they embody

My soul, as bad as these voices, why can’t I be free daddy?

©2017 BJ

Poem 3

I started crying before I could finish this one….

Conversations With Psychosis

Drooling and drugged, my eyes glazed

Just a sip of water, please, don’t you understand?

My skin is grey from lack of oxygen

They won’t let me smoke

It’s bad for my sin

You who’ve judged and called me names

Laughed at my face and yelled, YOU’RE INSANE!

I guess that I am, after all, you told me so

Walking around my face flat as a board

No life in these eyes and having facial sores

Half naked my butt shows, you make me dress

What for? Who cares, I’m a disgrace

Angry that, I scream at you

Who stands at my bed eating a shoe

Though never offering juice nor brew

You’re scum. You sit hoping~ I’ll overcome

And then go home and leave me here

Dang it! Wont you bring me a beer!

What do you care if I like whiskey better

Than drugs and drooling and eating paper

Oh go home, you’re like all others

Never vindicated, you’re like my mother

I HATE YOU! YOU BITCH! YOU NASTY MF’ er

AND DRUG ME~ why don’t you?

You son of my brother

I’m left again

Lost, lonely within

Hold my hand

It’s dark in here

These voices have drowned me

I’m overcomed by my tears

©2017 BJ