POETRY                                        

"Childhood is a Nightmare"
                                    - Sheldon Kopp -

Poetry is about what is deeply felt and essentially unsayable.  Therefore it has potentially relevance in the context of psychotherapy. Reflecting human experiences it reveals meanings and feelings by touching the deepest and often unconscious places in our souls.  It can help make alive and bring to light what otherwise might stay buried in the unconscious. In times of our deepest suffering it can reconcile us to the world.



Here are some that might be of interest:                                                                                                                                     

WHAT I HEARD AT THE DISCOUNT DEPARTMENT STORE

Don’t touch that. And stop your whining too.
Stop it. I mean it. You know I do.
If you don’t stop, I’ll give you fucking something
to cry about right here
and don’t you think I won’t either.

So she did. She slapped him across the face.
And you could hear the snap of flesh against flesh
half-way across the store. Then he wasn’t whining anymore.
Instead, he wept. His little body heaved and shivered and wept.
He was seven or eight. She was maybe thirty.
Above her left breast, the pin said: Nurse’s Aide.

Now they walk hand in hand down the aisle
between the tables piled with tennis shoes
and underpants and plastic bags of socks.

I told you I would. You knew I would.
You can’t get away with shit like that with me,
You know you can’t.
You’re not in school anymore.
You’re with your mother now.
You can get away with fucking murder here,
but you can’t get away with shit like that with me.

Stop that crying now I say
or I’ll give you another little something
like I did before.

That’s better. That’s a whole lot better.
You know you can’t do that with me.
You’re with your mother now.
                                                         David Budbill
 

"Mother"

Mother, you had me but I never had you
I wanted you, you didn't want me
So I, I just gotta tell you
Goodbye, goodbye

Father, you left me but I never left you
I needed you, you didn't need me
So I, I just gotta tell you
Goodbye, goodbye

Children, don't do what I have done
I couldn't walk and I tried to run
So I, I just gotta tell you
Goodbye, goodbye

Mamma, don't go
Daddy, come home
Mamma, don't go
Daddy, come home
Mamma, don't go
Daddy, come home
Mamma, don't go
Daddy, come home

                                John Lennon



This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   
They may not mean to, but they do.   
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,   
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
                                   
                                             Philip Larkin


What is Memory

We met at nine. We met at eight.
I was on time. No, you were late.
....Ah, yes, I remember it well......
                                        GIGI


To Women As Far As I'm Concerned

The feelings I don't have I don't have.
The feeling I don't have, I won't say I have.
The feelings you say you have, you don't have.
The feelings you would like us both to have, we neither of us have.
The feelings people ought to have, they never have.
If people say they've got feelings, you may be pretty sure they haven't got them.
So if you want either of us to feel anything at all
You'd better abandon all ideas of feelings altogether.
                                                                     
                                                            D H Lawrence


Not Waving But Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
                                           
                                           Stevie Smith
 

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