Members’ Creativity

DBSA Boston Community Showcase

The DBSA Boston community includes artists of many genres. Here we are showcasing visual arts and poetry.

Visual Arts

Watercolors by Barbara Stahler

Woven Basket by Rachel Freundenberg

Self-Acceptance by Barbara Stahler-Sholk

English translation of the original Spanish poem

Self-Acceptance
I long to release myself from my illusions of my own unfulfilled expectations.
I long to release myself from my intense anger, jealousy, bitterness and attitude of victimization.
Perhaps by doing so, I will fly into my own affectionate arms of self-acceptance and discover new avenues of joy.

Self Portrait & Trees by Arthur Stead

Backlit White Lily & Backlit Blue Lily by Leah H.

Painted Snowman Stone & Painted Hope Stone by Amanda Grant

Poetry

 Poetry and Photo by Caitlin Walsh

Boston State
They bring you in
Roughly without explanation
A shock to the system
Like hydro and electro therapy 
in the days of old
 
The farm disappeared. 
They needed the land
to cram you in
Layer upon layer
Room upon room
 
They want you hidden
Pushed aside out of the way
Day in day out, static
Not worth the effort 
officially Incurable
We know, always have known
How they work
a symptom gets a diagnosis gets a pill 
a side effect gets another 
It’s pills all the way down
Until there’s nothing left of you 
 
White coats testing the mind like
Farmers tilling the land
With a row of brick houses on the edge of campus 
The keepers of the land
are so close yet far away 
holding you at arms length 
 
Slowly the asylum came down around us
You emptied out, destined to drift, not ready
pushed out as violently as they pulled you in
 
We are still here, twelve of us now
Return and look up 
take refuge in the shade. 
If not for a tiny black and white photo 
history would be lost 
 
We stand tall as witnesses. 
Our trunks are cannonball strong
Our roots entrenched in the earth
We take your stories on as our own
Absorbed from our depths to the tips of our leaves
Your secrets are safe with us 
to the end of our time

.Poetry and Photo copyright Caitlin Walsh 2024

 Poetry by Dana-Zoe Gest

…and when i cross-over,
When i know i am gone,
From you – my blue and gold,
Finding my words had to be left behind, i ask.
I ask – for the coin to make my journey,
For the oceans’s arms to nudge me onward,
For the singer of songs and marker of days keep singing and keep marking,
So i know how far i go.
I ask – all lights to shine bright
And string tied to my waist
I can still turn to look as the dark grows around the ever smaller orb of my life.
I ask – that the drum becomes the chimes, and the long cello note set my pace so i not wander nor become lost in the next new void.
Because i will need some time for my eyes to adjust, time to cover great distance, time to raise a voice to form the new words i now speak with and their toungue to taste new air with.
I will arrive and the turning shows no more that a dot i think i imagine, it’s ledge a doorway i had to stand on first and take the leap.
And then – i will know, i can untie my past and send it out like a star whose twinkle i see is the light from before the sun.
Now, i beam out too, and away.
My talk full of swans alighting
To the sky, of bear leaving footprints in the deep mud of the boundless.
I become more than all of me put together; i am that note that makes the seventh, the key that makes the minor,
The note that makes diminshed.
I am the bloom from a star

Copyright #danazoegest 2015

Revision (Nov 2023) 
Photo and Poetry by Caitlin Walsh

Two Blocks of Missing Chelsea
Poetry by Dana-Zoe Gest

 I live in a city now.
A tall building with lots of large tall windows.
Lots of light and overlooking a cemetery.
I see lots of green from my window.

My building was built during Covid.
It even has its own name
After the large theatre across the street
Now empty as a symbol of times gone by.

There is a flock of pigeons and sparrows.
That flies past my windows at high speed
All to get there on another rooftop.
Or the tall trees along the Avenue

I pardon myself as I confide in you
That I turn my lights off from 6-11am
During migration I have heard more
Than one bird strike on my windows.

I walk the two blocks of trees and birds
Noisy nests and fresh seedlings all around
Green and greener gated gardens
Poking my iPhone thru the fences to steal photos

Walking as slow as my back warrants
Inhaling in the newly minted exchange of air
Without AI sound input I hear a lot naturally
Folding into myself I create poems in my ear

Looking for the right words for the right sounds
The right crush underfoot from Spring
Letting it blossom past the butterfly bushes.
Past the small little library box.

I look inside Everytime I go past
Hoping it will change and I will learn
In whose memory it was founded.
And I spot a novel by George R. R. Martin

One more block the spell breaks
All the dogs out with their owners
All the car doors open for a good air out
Suddenly a walking garden trimmer

Up next the cars, buses and L stops
Coffee shop as a refuge to preserve
The illusion I am not in a city
But there you have it. I am struggling.

I miss my small town and everyone
Knowing each other and their dreams
The hopes of parents and wishful children
Panting dogs and poetry readings

Not that they don’t have it here
But I am a stranger here- I am still
Holding on the trees and parks of home.
So it’s home again away from home.

© Dana-Zoe Gest 2024

The Four Seasons

By Frank Qu

Spring
The Sun Rise Shining
As Seeds Grow in The Wet Dirt
Life Reborn Once More

Summer
The Sun Radiates
Birds Are Chirping Bittersweet
Flowers Are Blooming

Autumn
Brown Leaves Are Falling
Fruits Are Ready To Be Picked
The Sun Grows Darker

Winter
A Bitter Cold Day
Bells Ring As The Sunlight Fades
Passing. A Year’s End

A Safe Place by JMD

A place we can be free.
A place just to be.
Someone’s kind heart.
The love we know from the start.

The walls of hate torn down.
Getting rid of that old frown.
The love of life.
Getting rid of the strife.

Lending a hand.
Meditating on your favorite band.
It puts a smile on your face.
Yes, that is a safe place.

Read more…

• “Whispered Secrets,” Joy Galloway Shen… Read poem
• “Solace,” Anonymous… Read poem
• “A Mother’s Love,” Kelley S…. Read Poem
• “When Autumn Comes,” Joy S…. Read Poem
• “Elegy for Arthur Stead,” Dennis H. …Read Elegy
• “Psych Meds,” Dan S. …Read Poem
• “Resurfacing,” Dan S. …Read poem
• “In Time: An Elegy for Lesley Porter,” Dennis H. …Read elegy
• “To the Core,” Lesley P. …Read poem
• “The Wind,” Anonymous …Read poem
• “Elegy for Deb Mann,” Dennis H. …Read poem

Submissions

Please email your submissions to news@dbsaboston.org, including your name, email address, and phone number in case the editor has questions. Author/artist name will be withheld from publication upon request.