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Be: A Poem About Self Care and Mental Health

I hope that you enjoy reading these three poems Prey, Bar Cruiser and Tornado about love's less attractive scenarios.

Mental health starts with self care.

Mental health starts with self care.

Be: A Poem About Self Care and Mental Health

Once, I was given a clear instruction

To have fun on purpose each day

No excuses, no exceptions

Happiness and peace lay this way


In the midst of depression I was not sure

You can't be happy and sad at one time

No vacuum in the mind, a positive cure

With Garfield cartoons I began, they chimed


It works, it really does, to pleasure seek

To wander away from this planet of woes

To a private world you can, must retreat

Recall the sunlight and banish the shadows


Even if only for five minutes or an hour

Protect your brain from constant toil

Mental health is within your power

So is the off-switch to senses in turmoil

Anxiety is no fun, you need to find some peace and joy to stay well.

Anxiety is no fun, you need to find some peace and joy to stay well.

Self care is not selfish care, it's essential

For many self care is a luxury, the dream

As to the body beautiful we're reverential

We allow our minds to shudder, to scream


The weight of all life falls off one person's frame

Everyone's problems won't be absorbed, resolved

For some life is harrowing, to others it's a game

We question if the human race has evolved


To look up at the stars, see beyond the darkness

Is not fanciful, those stars will outlive you and I

The sun will rise and set, new life and old in process

The time you spend on your brain health is wise


Go smell a rose, watch wispy clouds pass

Laugh at a meme, a joke, be amused

Listen to music, sing, get up and dance

Read, write, bake a cake, just do you

Seeking serenity in a storm can be difficult.

Seeking serenity in a storm can be difficult.

Humans have brains from pre-stone age

When fight or flight was true life or death

Today, in stress responses we still engage

For the mundane at a pace that catches breath


We forget we weren't designed as machines

Boasting 24-7 availability to all and sundry

Constant performance, memory banks cleaned

Trapped in pressure cycles. Set our minds free


How long would you expect your car to go

With no breaks, no fuel, no love, no thought?

Only you can take time to health seeds sow

Let tired eyes see serenity when it's sought


Take my word for it, when me is lost you quake

We take our brains for granted, forget grace

Before into a million jigsaw pieces you may break

Find sure footing and see recognition in your face


Reconnect with your soul and just be



How often do we think about physical health? Compare that with the lack of attention mental health gets.

How often do we think about physical health? Compare that with the lack of attention mental health gets.

Bonus Poem: Anxiety

This today will soon be yesterday

Let’s make it the best we’ve ever written

For each tomorrow is a chapter away

We often forsake our now for it, bitten or smitten

Try to live in the moment, savor each one

That’s a hard lesson to learn and maintain

But your mind wants to be in the present, having fun

Smell flowers, see sunsets, feel gentle rain

It’s not easy to be in the here and now

There are many invitations to fret, false clues

Tomorrow is a mystery, a tremor or still, for now

It will explain itself soon but it isn’t motivated by the blues

Tomorrow’s blank page betrays invisible ink what if’s and when’s

Willed for answers won’t always be found in our today

Questions unanswered, we take up our mental pens

Where we normally write a far too dramatic play

For when the dreaded tomorrow morphs in to today

Our fears quite often are found to never have in truth lain

Yet for hours, our eyes off course, they’ll have led us astray

A new merry dance for us to review on memory lane

Plus, being human, we flick back to see our faults

Liberally douse our life tomes in inner critic stress

Instead try to live in the moment without thunderbolts

Read each word you write and enjoy the ink blots, they’re heaven blessed.


(Previously published on my old blog and Vocal.)

© 2022 Joanne Hayle

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