Search

Cat Over Clock

Poetry Saves the World

Two Pigeon Poles

Who holds your feet?
The changeable metal pulled from the weary earth?
I spy her trying to make a column out of schist
And I miss the way
I once saw a corner of her lie still, uninterrupted.
These holes.
The deeper we dig
The greater forces we wake.

Depression and Anxiety Lense

Hello there fellow poem readers, 

So, it’s like I got out my kaleidoscope tonight and can see the world differently after reading three articles.
The first one is honestly hard to stomach, I got a bit defensive but there are two other articles that expand on the seemingly simplified first article. These are from Psychology Today, written by Greg Henriques, Ph.D.
Anxiety and Depression Are Symptoms, Not Diseasesy

Clarifying the Nature of Anxiety and Depression

The Behavioral Shutdown Theory of Depression

My brain is in total awe thinking of depression this way. It’s odd, but I find myself much more likely to be able to consider/define real causes for how I feel…identify scenarios and possibly recognize how to work towards goals. It is work, but I believe this is a map to draw a real path forward.

I feel more hope about depression than ever before.
Yours, beneath silver-lined clouds (instead of just grey ones),

brandy

Basil (with no middle name)

July 26, 2017

I tried to hold your paws,
they were smaller,
the same shape. All of us shrink
when we age
but sometimes we shrink early
from within.
I spent years timing the moments for your dinner,
smelling your breath
and calling you off the squirrels
and the spiders.
A split rail fence was your gymnasium. I touched the way the lines across your chest were fuzzy and those on your back were solid, I’m made from the way I hold you in the morning when we look into the dark or the dawn.
The way you lament summer in Portland or wherever we are
Snow. Rain. It’s wet,
it’s all the same.
This year the bush in the corner is too big to see you under.
I can still entice you in with
the sound of silverware, the bottles clanking in the refrigerator door. You come inside with cricket cat chirp and expect everything to be the same,
but the long stare at your food reminds us that it’s not.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: