Mental Health Poetry

Three Poems for August

Life has been busy, but I've decided to share three short poems for the month of August. They're short and simple, I want to try and express my day-to-day life and show ordinary events in down-to-earth and accessible ways. I'm not sure if this style is what most people would define as poetry or poetic, but it's how I'm expressing myself for now. Please offer feedback if you have any. Read More

Life has been busy, but I’ve decided to share three short poems for the month of August. They’re short and simple, I want to try and express my day-to-day life and show ordinary events in down-to-earth and accessible ways. I’m not sure if this style is what most people would define as poetry or poetic, but it’s how I’m expressing myself for now. Please offer feedback if you have any.

Lunch

It was a cloudy Sunday
He and I got lunch
at a place called
Two Birds Café.

It was nice to see him
without the work hat and
work uniform.
He looked good in shorts.
It was nice to see him
smile.

He got a Salmon BLT with fries.
I got pancakes, bacon, and biscuit with
strawberry jam and butter,
coffee too.

We talked and had a good time,
the café was crowded but
all the people around us seemed
to fade away, they only
made it hard to hear him.

We talked about our shitty job
and he said he wanted to quit.
I did too.
He mentioned that he hadn’t
smoked for a week but
the urge was strong.

It was so refreshingly ordinary.
We got lunch,
We shared our problems, interests and
dreams.
We laughed and we smiled.

And when he drove away after
bringing me back to my apartment
I already wanted to see him again…
He looked damn good in those shorts.

Thunderstorms

3:00p.m.
There was supposed to be a
severe thunderstorm, there was
and 80% chance.
It’s sunny and not raining.

I feel disappointed.
Sometimes when I’m feeling
depressed, a beautiful day
seems to mock me. I feel
an obligation to go outside.

When the sky is blue, and
the birds are chirping, and
when it’s over 70ºF,
I feel like I’ve wasted my day
if I nap it away.
But when it’s raining, when
the weather is shit, no one
blames you for staying in bed.

6:00p.m.
It started to rain and
thunder growls in the distance.

Makin’ Burgers

On weekday mornings, around 8:30a.m.
there’s a portly, white haired, elderly man
who comes in the store and gets a 24oz cup
of hazelnut coffee.

Most days when he comes in,
his eyes light up behind his glasses,
with a warm and cheerful voice he shouts,
“G’mornin! Makin’ Burgers?”
I always smile and say “Yes.”
Even though I’m making breakfast sandwiches.

He and his wife have been married for 50 years,
Diagnosed with breast cancer, she lays dying
in a hospital bed.
Somehow, for the short moments I see this man,
I’m able to make him smile.

Latest posts by Mark Nyman (see all)