PROFESSIONAL HELP

psych help 3

Professional Help

*

I told my Psychiatrist the other day

just how much I hated the Human Race.

*

(Present company excluded of course,

oh Faithful Followers and Facebook Friends!)

*

But the rest of Humanity in its Generality

I disposed of in a concise, pithy and

invective-laden statement,

delivered with a passionate intensity derived

from an utter conviction borne

of years of close observation..

*

To my surprise, instead of registering

shock or dismay, he burst out

into great gales

of gut-wrenching laughter.

*

Eventually the Doctor’s mirth subsided somewhat,

and, grinning like a Cheshire Cat,

he asked me for the reasons for my

intense disenchantment.

*

So I attempted to explain my stance

but I could tell he wasn’t really concentrating,

he was still too busy chuckling to himself

over my little Jeremiad.

*

Indeed, the rest of the Session that day

ended up being a total write-off,

due to his periodically breaking down

into ‘inappropriate laughter’

at the recollection of my outburst.

*

Concerned he wasn’t treating my Problem

with the Gravitas it deserved,

I attempted to convince him

of the sincerity of my convictions..

*

“Please Doctor,” I said, “It’s a serious problem!

I tell you, if it wasn’t for the powerful Drugs

I have to take every-single-day, why,

I’d probably be out on the street with a shotgun

right now, blasting away at random strangers,

just to relieve all the awful Pressure

building up in my head.”

*

Oh sure, he nodded and said, “Hmmm”,

in vague agreement, as if he understood,

but I’m not really sure he even heard what I said.

The Doctor was lost, deep in his own thoughts.

*

At this point I started thinking

about terminating our session.

It wasn’t like I particularly needed

to see a psychiatrist today. I wasn’t feeling

that depressed. Really,

I was just there to future-proof my Pension.

(Don’t want anyone getting the misapprehension

that I’m cured or rehabilitated or something.)

*

So I collected my shopping list of prescriptions,

and departed. As I looked back through the door,

I could see that he’d taken off his glasses

to dab at his eyes with a handkerchief,

as he composed himself for his next client.

psych help5

I bought an orange juice to wash down

a couple of the deadly, but legally-approved,

‘scheduled’ narcotic-tablets he gave me

for the terrible pain in my Spleen,

and went and sat down under a tree,

to await my medications’

soothing, soporific waves of calm.

*

A Magpie was singing on a branch above,

a gorgeous, cascading, liquid burble.

I fed the songster bits of cake,

and watched it squabble with a water dragon

over the crumbs.

-Magpie

It was an idyllic scene,

but I found my thoughts repeatedly

turning back to the Doctor.

I felt kind of worried about him.

*

Frankly, I’m still concerned.

I think he may need

Professional Help.

psych help 2

***

roadtripJpigRED

***

*****************************

The KURILPA POETS present;

“COMB THE SKY”

Cathoel Jorss; the Moon and her Priestess

their last Word-Happening for 2014,

2pm Sunday 30th November.

91 Cordelia Street,West End

Feature Poet; Cathoel  Jorss

Mystery Musician;

Matt Barnes

Unsuspected Artist; 

Zel

MC; Reverend Hellfire

OPEN MIC sessions* free food & drink* onsite free parking*

Pay $5 at the door and pay no more

see kurilpapoets.wordpress.com  for details.

Figures ZEL

******************************

***

reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire is a practising Performance Poet,

President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity

and an Ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists

AND the Church of the Universe.

“If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the pulpit.”

***

Advertisements

~ by reverendhellfire on November 23, 2014.

2 Responses to “PROFESSIONAL HELP”

  1. Response:

    I found myself sitting today
    With an empty shotgun in hand
    A sea of bodies across the ground lay
    As the copper tapped his shiny metal band

    “You can’t go killing people” he said
    “It just ain’t right to take another’s life.”
    I checked my empty pockets as up I was fed
    In the hopes I’d missed a shell that would solve my strife

    Alas my gun was empty
    I’d have to do this the old fashioned way
    With words, arguments, intelligence and empathy
    When in reality I’m still only trying to say
    the same thing every day

    “They got no help today
    And you know that it’s always said
    That without a little suffering,
    the meaning of life is empty.”

    The Judge disagreed.

    • Aaah beautiful! I love it. I should set up a serial killer self-help group with a phone-in crisis line…Mass-Murderers Anonymous, perhaps.
      No, on 2nd thoughts, I can just picture all the calls I’d get; “Reverend! I’m afraid I’m going to kill again!”
      Frankly I get enough of those sort of calls already

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: