Too often I have rued, lamented, the fact that I am so demented. I wonder what the reasons are that cause me to be so bizarre. While other people act quite sane I do strange things that are inane. Against my plight I’ve raged and railed; I’ve grieved, protested, shrieked and wailed. I’ve searched for…
Why do I have these wild relapses? I blame them on my sick synapses. My brain lacks neural density resulting in sub par plasticity. With neurons frayed, flawed, and deficient my coping skills are insufficient. That’s why I want to kiss and hug the doc who gives me some new drug each month and blithely…
Although I think that I’m just fine my friends claim that I’m borderline. Each time I rant and rave a bit they say that I have had a fit. They diagnose me as a nut and then they try to drug me but I know that God is on my side and that I’ll soon…
by Tom Greening QUACK I could lose my license for offering this experimental treatment unproven by clinical trials and double-blind studies. No glossy brochures or stylish advertising with testimonials tout its benefits and safety. Still I go on peddling my home brew to those who suffer, and hope someday scientists will find a way…
A poem about how various family members abuse one member in the family, and then make that person out to be the mentally ill one because of how s/he reacts to their abuse. What’s Wrong With Bess? Author: Liz Purcell What’s Wrong with Bess? What’swrongwith Bess? They like to say. She seldom ever. Wants to . . . play. Or have her hair. Done up in curls. As is the way. Of normal . . . girls. What’s wrong with Bess? She sure is queer. It’s good the rest of…
A poem about the hypocrisy of people who abuse someone, then criticize that person for showing the effects of their abuse. Respect* You verbally, physically, and sexually . . . abuse me. And, of being nuts—and a slut—falsely accuse me. Then hide . . . behind your crosses. Your wealth and . . . your gold rings. And your titles. And your land. And your fancy clothes and things. And all o’ your other . . . so-called signs . . . of respectability. I’ll…
A poem about the psychiatric drugging of children. Tommy Doesn’t Play Much* Tommy doesn’t play much . . . any more. He doesn’t care . . . to . . . explore. He has no thoughts . . . of his own. He spends most of his time . . . alone. Tommy listens to his teacher. He’s a good little boy. He’s his parents’ . . . pride . . . and joy. Though when the firebell sounds, it don’t appear . . . Tom . . . can hear. Tommy don’t ask: “Where?” Or “When?” Since his shrink . . . gave him Ritalin.† He’s never a pain. He’s a good little boy. His parents’ drugged . . . pride . . . and joy. Tommy’s easy to…
Info Mad poems by Liz Purcell Liz Purcell is a freelance writer, psychiatric survivor, and longtime sober alcoholic. She is also the author of Seeds of Sobriety: Practical Daily Readings for Alcoholics and Addicts (Outskirts Press, 2006). Seeds of Sobriety: Practical Daily Readings for Alcoholics and Addicts A nonreligious daily reading book for alcoholics and…
Info Tom Greening poetry to change the mental health system Tom Greening has written many humorous poems challenging the current mental health system, and what is called ‘normal,’ which he decidedly is not. Poem “Drug Effects” by Tom Greening A poem by Tom Greening. Poem: “Whose Fault” by Tom Greening Poem: “My Snyapses” by…
Info While institutionalized for three years as an adolescent in the early 1960s, Dorothy was labeled a “schizophrenic” and forced to undergo 40 combined insulin coma-electroshock “treatments.” She experienced and witnessed many atrocities and believes that luck, determination, her own anger, and one compassionate advocate were here best friends on the road to her survival.…