LOCKED UP THE CAGE

By Shreya Pendurkar

a fiery itch inside my body,

sweltering like a forest fire.

now i know why we die.

now i know why we die.

the wrath erupts us entirely,

all these organs fall apart.

we die of the temper.

we die of the rage.

we die of the feebleness.

we die locked up the cage.

ABOUT THE POEM: This poem is about the feeling of being trapped, being helpless. When being hurt by those who’re not suppose to hurt you, a feeling of helplessness hovers. Locked up the cage tries to explain that feeling.

ABOUT SHREYA: Shreya is 20 years-old, and pursuing a bachelor’s degree in psychology at the University of Mumbai, India. Diagnosed with clinical depression, generalised anxiety disorder as well as PTSD Shreya has been battling mental illness since childhood - physical abuse has been one of the contributing factors. Hobbies include writing poetry, reading, making mandalas, singing, as well as films.

Instagram: @shreyaapendurkar

You can read Shreya's other poems OPEN WOUND, and ABUSED in the book PTSD.

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THE WOOD CARVER

By Jason Kirk Bartley

The wood carver sat on his porch one day.

A storm was rolling in.

He rocked away.

A piece of chestnut in hand,

He examined the wood.

Turning it gently around,

Corner to corner,

As he sat silently and made not a sound.

Then he sniffed the aroma,

With a deep breath he breathed in.

He began to draw a picture with his ink pen,

of this vision he saw in this old block of wood.

He began to chisel the corners away,

As he jumped to his feet

and stood.

Lightning began to light up the sky like the fourth of July.

Raindrops began to burst on the ground all around.

Nothing destroyed his focus,

he heard not a sound.

He began to rock again.

As he whittled away on that piece of wood on this darkened day.

The thunder sounded off

and he jumped a little.

But his steady hands continued to whittle.

A figure began to appear in the midst of the dark.

No longer was there a piece of chestnut,

Now it had become a bald eagle flying,

Wings outspread with every bit of detail, beak open, holding our American flag in both talons.

He whittled his name on one wing In such a manner.

He could not refrain himself.

Standing on the porch he sang,

“The Star-Spangled Banner.”

Humming and singing,

Tears streamed down his eyes.

His duty long forgotten,

He still holds her up in prayer.

He may have been forgotten,

But his love still lingers there.

The storm had passed him over.

He carved the eagles eyes opened wide.

Memories that could never be forgotten,

He had bottled up inside.

ABOUT JASON: Based in the USA, Jason is a paranoid schizophrenic, and copes with his illness every day. He has a master's degree in ministry, and has been published various times and won a number of awards.

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STUNTED

By Emily Astey

It’s remarkable what I remember,

but more traumatic what I don’t.

How he makes some memories clear

and other times he won’t.

How I can feel the happenings

like I’m going through them now.

All my senses alert but still,

and the devil fulfills his vow.

The hell it is to just recall

a moment that froze time.

How it stunts my every thought,

my motions, and my rhyme.

For what is going on inside

is more than just a war.

It’s the annihilation

of all things in my core.

I can’t lie still amidst the craze.

My mind is going wild.

And then I turn my focus

to the fact that I’m a child.

I never grew much past an age

where I knew of the earth.

Consequently, I’m too young

regardless of my birth.

So naive and gullible.

Too slow to catch the trick.

And I continue to build walls,

and lay them brick by brick.

But, now’s the time to devastate

the house that I have built.

To reject all defiant thoughts,

the horror, and the guilt.

With this resurrection

I will live, yes, I suppose.

But if I’m idle I will think

as the terror only grows.

ABOUT EMILY: Emily lives in Colorado, USA, with her partner of 15 years, and their puppy, and has self-published a book of poetry. Emily enjoys playing mandolin and piano, reading, and writing. Her bouts with PTSD and OCD have made life challenging, but through the grace of writing it has become manageable.

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REFLECTION

By Simon Drake

Just be beneath the surface

Where past traumas lie

Still hot as molten lava

An acid burning tide

Words I speak are poisonous

Hate and rage intertwine

On the very tip of the tongue

Lethal when combined

No empathy resides within

Banished before child became a man

Love and happiness alien

Was this God’s master plan

Incapable of intimacy

Tight lipped and heavily guarded

No one has a chance in hell

Relationships doomed before they started

Destined for isolation

Twos, too many for company

Insisting on self-segregation

Even my reflection hates me

You can read Simon's other poems NIGHTMARE, and BIOGRAPHY in the book PTSD.

ABOUT SIMON: Simon is a Qualified Gestalt Counsellor and a huge supporter and advocate for mental health awareness for all those out there suffering in silence. Simon’s poetic journey started in January 2022, since then he has had works published in numerous anthologies, along with his own collection Triggers, A Student Counsellor’s Poetic Journey. A rising star on the spoken word scene in London, headlining and hosting at prestigious venues, Simon has had radio show and podcast interviews both in the UK and the USA, on the back of his unique and unmistakably powerful poetry.

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UNTITLED

By Harriet Coppard

It doesn't always haunt as memories or feelings, sometimes it sits as numbness within you that resists any effort to shift. 

The non feeling has become you. You know the events ... they are acknowledged and accepted ... even expressed. Yet a protection has surrounded you, comforting yet grey. It's less a wall than a mist ... beautiful and tempting.

A mist we walk in as we do on winter mornings, leading us on to distractions and dark humour. It covers us in slightly faked smiles and a certain silence different to all others.

Yet we know this, we willingly walk on and survive things that others cannot understand. We don't need them to, we're wanderers in what was, but also what is still to be. 

Sometimes we wave our hands or we shout and the mists clear ... but they are welcomed back.

Like us they are beautifully imperfect ... which is in itself perfect.

ABOUT HARRIET: Harriet has learned to see life in a whole different way - she's now comfortable with the dark - it inspires her.

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CANDY, CANDY

By Jasmeet Gabrie

Candy, candy.

A child’s delight.

Do we hand smiles out like candy?

A child doesn’t judge.

A silly face, A silly noise.

Pay Attention To Me!

A child looks to be cared for.

Smiles hoping you would care.

How will you spoil me?

No:

How Will You Love Me?

They want to say that.

ABOUT THE POEM:"I love psychology and wanted to incorporate what the fear of abandonment looks like in a child."

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SLIVERS OF TIME, COMING INTO FOCUS AND MERGING

By Diana Spore

Memories of experiences faced were triggered,

Revealing themselves like strands of snapshots,

Different places and timeframes, 

Flashbacks making time stand still, with me becoming immersed.

Abuse – emotional and psychological – had tinged my life course,

Discoloring childhood encounters especially, not comprehending the meanings.

Ongoing onslaught of unhealthy social relationships in teenage and adult years.

Ironically, as an older adult, Ireceived a diagnosis that was unexpected, at least to me

Despite an array of issues and symptoms -- post-traumatic stress disorder,

Bestowed by a primary care physician rather than a psychiatrist.

And now ...

The inner and outer landscapes merged – emotional numbness, distancing,

Except with my beloved emotional support dog, my only true connection.

A checkered, crystalized mosaic formed.

Grounded in reality rather than a motley of delusions.

Ongoing trauma.

ABOUT DIANA: Diana is a writer/poetess, social gerontologist, and older adult. She received her MGS from Miami University, Ohio, USA, and earned her PhD in Human Development and Family Studies, with a concentration in Ageing, from Penn State. Diana received postdoctoral training at Brown University. Her research efforts, work experiences, and writing endeavors have focused on mental health and ageing. She developed expertise in creative writing, advocacy writing, legacy writing, and writing for recovery. Diana believes in the promise of writing poetry as a mechanism for healing and advocacy.

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THE DANCE OF ARTEMIS AND DIONYSUS

By Kelly Maida

Look over there in the soft rain

They take to flight on this sleepless night

Artemis and Dionysus

Dance in the night

Or maybe it’s a fight

Two wrongs don’t make a right

Dionysus pours out his wine

Trying to tempt Artemis

But Artemis takes out his bow

He won’t back down

And he says no

I think everyone has this dance with Artemis and Dionysus

Until you heal

This dance will continue and it is very real

You can read Kelly's other poems SERAPHIM ANGELS, CINNAMON SWIRLS, ALCHEMICAL MERGE, SERPENTS AND THE TREE OF LIFE and MYSTERY SCHOOL in the book PTSD.

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SOFTEN YOUR HEART

By Zoe Scott

Soften your heart sweet child, soften your heart.

I know the pain has put up walls around you

but soften your heart sweet child, soften your heart. 

There will always be a risk of more hurt, 

but you have such a kindness within you.

Please soften your heart sweet child, soften your heart.

ABOUT ZOE: Zoe is a self taught poet and mixed media artist, as well as a Creative Arts Practitioner from the UK. She lives with C-PTSD and diabetes. She has found creativity and poetry a real benefit for her own wellbeing. She uses poetry to portray her own experiences with mental and physical health issues, and to highlight her love and the peace she gains from nature.

Instagram: @zoescreativecabin

You can read Zoe's other poems IVY, I NEED MY TRAUMA TO HAVE NOT BEEN IN VAIN, and THE EMPTY STARE, in the book PTSD.

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