<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399159" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Psychiatry or is it not? (parody)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(with apologies to Johan Steyn) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The smiling tribal witchdoctor<br>with his bitter cure has got me under control, <br>everything does not begin and end with me: <br>with something he says he will fix my small thing<br>and I become aware, that I am different<br>but near to being unhappy<br>and aimless I walk back home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The balance I can tell you<br>and now I do not walk the straight way.<br>My friends come to steal my things! <br>my wife is passable and during the day<br>when I whisper to Tristene and Isolde<br>and wake up they glare at me like wide mouth dragons<br>and scream that they do not “alls wille.” (do not want “to do everything.”) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shiver when I can, <br>suddenly feel strange, <br>are unreliable for the slightest thing.<br>If it goes on longer I will probably cry, <br>make a confession to the elder<br>and with my conscience and face clean<br>I might reaffirm my vows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is a bad situation, <br>everything I am striving for, are moving to, <br>is unsafe against my young pen<br>and I have suspicions about every thing<br>(remember I do not talk the language <br>of that witchdoctor fellow) <br>everything does not begin and end with me: <br>and I live without peace and I am loose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My life is now playing off in parts with fun, <br>without the absence of this and that girlfriend<br>and their demands in winter stir me<br>and I am not able to page through Chausson or Thomas.<br>I get time to read Rilke though<br>and in silence with nuances I lie and slobber.<br>Only taking notice of the wind blowing each day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I whistle, after days walk straight past every rubbish bin, <br>know the taste of water from a urinal<br>and in a big jam<br>I am begging to get back my anguish<br>of cleanliness and God fearing virtue.<br>Let every angel that can<br>late at night call me in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Reference: Psigiatrie (Psychiatry) by Johan Steyn.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399159" data-title="Psychiatry or is it not? (parody) de Gert Strydom" data-description="(with apologies to Johan Steyn) The smiling tribal witchdoctor with his bitter cure has got me under control, everything does not begin and end with me: with something he says he will fix my small thing and I become aware, that I am different ..."></div> </div> </div>

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