Poetry Therapy: People Unmask Themselves Through Poetry

Poetry has long existed within civilization as a means for people to express themselves freely and without restrictions. But can this liberation be translated into a remedy? Does poetry therapy help? ReadMore: https://brionkhanks-poetry.com/blog/poetry-therapy/

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It is dark in here

So dark, that I can not see myself

I have spent months in here

This dark place

Where body and mind are conjoined

I feel cramped

Squished together like an origami

I can hardly move my body

These months I have grown

The dark place has been

A small space

Where I have not seen anyone in here

I have not items of the world with me

I have no voice

I have no movement in my body

Yet

I grow

Grow so tall and big that I am starting to hear a sound

It’s deafening after so much silence

I see light

I will reach for the light

I will break through this shell at last

And emerge into the world

But if I get the chance

I will cherish the small dark places again

For I know

I will need to grow

This is going to be my new poetry workshop focused on using poetry as a vehicle for self-discovery. #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #poetrylovers #writingcommunity #poetsofig #poem #poet #selfdiscovery #imagination #healing #poetrytherapy #arttherapy https://www.instagram.com/p/CTBFLbOLWXm/?utm_medium=tumblr

A poem about taking responsibility over your life. "I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost... I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place. But, it isn't my fault. It still takes me a long time to get out. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. It's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately. walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. I walk down another street." - Portia Nelson - - - Share this with someone who is needing a reminder and save for later! ❤️ - - - What comes to your mind when you see this? ❤️ Comment below! 👇 - - - #arttherapy #arttherapie #arteterapia #mentalhealth #arts #psychology #artheals #mindfulart #therapy #drawing #healing #carljung #poetrytherapy #poetry #poem #poetrycommunity #psychologyblog #psychologymemes - - - 🎨: Unknown https://www.instagram.com/p/CNoFYDnnOJR/?igshid=1he93ygdlwx52

I grew up in chaos, with a narcissist for a father (who was away all the time), and a manic depressive mother (who drank far too much wine), which made for a rather lonely home, where the safest place was my bedroom, reading books to escape the screaming, anxiously awaiting my 18th birthday, for on that day, I would finally get away, move out on my own. But as a child, I often thought to myself: if this is what love is, then I would rather spend this life alone. ...Some may disagree and say that the worst thing in life is to end up alone, but it’s not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone. And if you ever find yourself in that situation, remember this: you always have a choice. You can stay or you can leave, but every moment you wait is time you will never get back. And life is too damn short and unpredictable to be in a constant state of torture and heartache. ..... #hallofsidney #sidneyhallpoetry #pillowthoughts #showerthoughts #3amthoughts #sleeplessnight #survivalmode #narcissisticabuse #toxicrelationships #notebooktherapy #poetrytherapy #therapynotes #todayintherapy #poetryofthesoul #theycallmeawanderer #deepthoughtsquotes #spilledinkpoetry #aphorisms #philosophicalquotes #quotesforlife #iwritetobreathe #iwritetoescape #iwritetosurvive #iwritetoheal #iwritetoforget #iwritetofreemyself #yourstorymatters #youmattertoo #iwrotethisforyou #youareenough https://www.instagram.com/p/CN-RnmVltUN/?igshid=jy8a0j52wdqu

I wrote my very first poem at the tender age of 16, shortly after losing my father. My father was a huge beacon of light in my life and the loss was devastating. I was numb and confused. So I decided to grab a pen, a book and get it all out. 22 years later, I am still using it as my way of processing both sadness and happiness. This was my very first poem. It’s about what I imagine it must have felt like for my father to take his last few breaths and what followed after that. In loving memory ~ Michael David Espitalier 1938 - 1998 #rollinginitraw #momentsofchange #poetrytherapy #poetsofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CBIdTdxAoG3/?igshid=1tefg188f7g4z

#ForMothersOnly #subscribe #poetrytherapy #BougiieVibezOnly www.bougiievibez.com https://www.instagram.com/p/B_2jrOMBmhe/?igshid=bzttw7wi0uma

And just like that, the song in my head starts it’s melody.

Slowly drifting, gliding, dancing into its form of becoming.

No necessity of hesitation,

one note after the other as if it preexisted.

Notions seem unwavering,

collapsing, colliding into one entity.

Soothing this sharp pain of reality.

Always discret in its primitive elusion.

Words linger, inflections set.

Memories shown.

The mind can be unyielding when no thoughts are left to burn.

~AH

Happy to reveal that I will be conducting a course on "Poetry as a Therapeutic Aid" for The Poetry School (UK) this fall-winter. Yes, it is available as a digital classroom. 

It’s the facetune

The fact we are afraid of our own faces

It’s the filters

The desire to all look the same

It’s the time spent learning algorithms

The value of a human being is numerical

It’s the staged photos

The fact we stopped living life to take a picture

It’s the candid photos

The lack of real smiles and awe

Its the paid advertisements

The willingness to spread false claims for fortune

It’s the detriment to society

The addiction to social media

“If you were coming in the fall, I'd brush the summer by, With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year, I'd wind the months in balls, And put them each in separate drawers, Until their time befalls.”

— The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

From the poem Invictus Edited for posting Happy Poetry Month❤ #poetryofinstagram #nationalpoetrymonth #poets #poetrycommunity #poetry #createinspirepositivity #createarteveryday #dramartist #arts #poetrylovers #drama #poetrytherapy #artanddrama #inspiration #dramateacher #actor #actress #theatrehealsthesoul #poetryheals https://www.instagram.com/p/BwKOokuFcMG/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1f9ljp9nlrwar

"It I'm running out of breath. I can't believe it's so hard to breathe. My heart's pounding in my chest As I wonder if IT found me. I hide under the covers and pretend I'm invisible. Then I turn around and IT is still there. I scream and pray IT would just go away, I'm running and running, but IT is Right behind me. I've been running from this thing for 5 years now. I stop running and decide to face my fears Once and for all. As I stand face to face to what has caused me So much misery and pain, I stop. I look deeper and deeper into ITs eyes. Then I realize that IT is me." - Kindall Pérez It's so easy for us to run away from ourselves but so difficult to face ourselves, as if we were our biggest fear. What do you think? ❤️ Share with us! Comment below! 👇 🎨: Unknown