Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership




Introspection Sympathy Poems | Introspection Poems About Sympathy

These Introspection Sympathy poems are examples of Introspection poems about Sympathy. These are the best examples of Introspection Sympathy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Acrostic | |

Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores. 
I write and wonder who it bores. 
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. 
I see others carrying out my dreams; 
that’s what’s defeated me.
 
I am a coward with open sores. 
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. 
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 




©  2011  ~JSLaM    

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011 

* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
                 
   

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | Blank verse | |

Acceptance

Opened like a morning leaf
exposed beneath the moon,
Resting in the tentacles
of a clouded ink coccoon.
Wringing hands now rest at peace-
the solitude of night,
a lantern in the wilderness
the miracle of flight.
Dancing on the tabletops
or falling from a swing,
is noticing the networking
of every living thing.
Observation is the art
that shows a single frame,
experience will turn to stone
the given and the gained.

Copyright © Nykki Houtkooper

Details | ABC | |

AlphaBet Constructs 3 2 1

Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1

Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees

Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties

Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios

Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires

Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement

Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties

Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities

Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps

Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts

Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers

Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs

Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies

Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules

Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams

Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages

Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions 

Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients

Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions

Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets

Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets

Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias

Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions

White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds

XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms

Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds

Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones 

Copyright © Dave Collins

Details | Free verse | |

The Beauty In Futility

Futility
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn 
and made anew

Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live 
And never touch the sky. 

I have to forget you
I have to reject you 
But I will never love anyone 
like I loved you.....

I heard you whisper 
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes 
But you couldn’t feel it

You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I 
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT. 

I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will. 

Be my dirty little secret 
My very worst-kept secret 
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison 
My infernal and endless attraction 
towards complete and utter self-destruction 

I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....

My addiction 
my confusion
my nightmare
my dream never to come true

Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget 
how you were never there

Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?

I have to face the facts 
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you. 

The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to. 

I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely

It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me

You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
with you. 

Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity

Details | Rhyme | |

Panic Room


Here in this room again 
mind’s racing 
the fan on low…

and I’m not to be trusted 
can’t be left alone here
with shot gun temples 
and a soul full of fear

no worse place than now
I can’t yell it more clearly 
I beg for your attention  
but I can’t stand you near me

contradiction swimming
in the blood of my veins
I’d cut off my hands
to send toxins to drain

I’m gutless
yet I’m too gutsy for action
say that in public
imagine the reaction

I sit in whirl pools
but I’ve always hated heat
and claim to take a stand 
but I’m lazy at my seat

and I’m always on time
as I miss the bus again
I lie in your face 
with a devilish grin

I’m harmless 
and swear I didn’t mean it
I talk about my conscience 
still I’ve never seen it 

in a world of swirling confusions
I’m stuck on the spin cycle
madness,
creating contusions
 
my game’s not over
I need a fresh start
I’m begging for new blood 
cus’ I’ve got a good heart

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | I do not know? | |

Whispers

I once heard a saying,
that the happiest people are the saddest
Shining because they’ve seen the darkest
Like the lotus that grows out of mud
Or the rotting stump that bears a bud..

You never know what troubles the mind
So be careful with words unkind
The glowing person just beside you
Could be a crumbling ruin behind the hairdo
 Most people struggle everyday
Souls burdened with decay..

I guess it takes a lot of courage
To act normal with that damage
Hard to believe that under the surface
Lives a soul with no purpose
A cry for help won’t be any crisper
Listen to the their inner whisper..

Copyright © Master Jones

Details | Rhyme | |

A Sympathy Look

If you are reading this poem after I am dead
My one question for you is, “Why”
I begged you to read these while I was still here
And you hardly even gave it a try

Now that I am no longer alive
You give it a sympathy look
Well, I absolve you of that obligation
You can close the cover of this book

Think about the things you would do for others
Of your loved ones when they are dead
And do those things for them now
While they are still walking around instead

I know it is easier to express your emotions
To somebody buried in the ground
But saying those things while looking in their eyes
Is better for you and them, I’ve found

But, if you are reading this poem after I am dead
Please know that I do forgive you
Because by not reading this poem while I was still alive
You couldn’t know what you were supposed to do

Copyright © Joe Flach

Details | Free verse | |

Why does the will i am hate Mr Jones?

Is it cause youre small minded Mr jones asks the many voices who once had 
repect counting the crows pecking the and gouging out their eyes?
Is it cause you loathe what you dont understand and this revelation is something 
they need to see in themselves?
Is it the fact you carry a heavy load and need a helping hand
was it the opium you down like poison that you Jones for
leaving you to ask who i am?

Whats the will I am saying?
as he steals my spotlight
leaving me here assassinated verbally like a sitting duck
sure im no hippy sniffing daisies
pounding on drums in peace beads begging for sex
with a picket sign saying peace please

Is it because im gay?
Is it because im spiritual?
do we have penis envy?
Have you read the lists?
are you going to pay the tithe?
and before you mash the send button with snide cruel bitter comments
please please
don't think twice

the murder of crows circling
cawing in the blood moon sky
November rains down on this wedding day
and I am forever by your side
why does my will
the will i am hate me?
is it a syndrom of an itchy trigger finger
an itch below the waste
why must everyone pull eachother down
back into the boiling pot
like the crabs we truly are in this amazing race
to lose it all
then fall
and sing and
sway and praise
and humm such blasphemous amazing grace
of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes

oh sweet sugar coatings
and icing on the cake
The will iam
I wonder counting crows
a famous last name with me
Mr jones
why do you hate the will I am

Is it because i read tarot cards?
is it because i'm gay?
is it because i'm amongst favorites?
is it because im controversial?
is it because you have nothing to say?

but who am i flamethrower
i sit here a hack
with a curse gor the harpie you are
and a smile upon my face
i throw this effortless nothing
and never look back

the stone falls into the pool of the abyss
oh will i am
mr jones
why do you loathe what you dont understand?

Copyright © Troy Nelson

Details | Rhyme | |

A Suicidal Thought

What lies behind a conscious mind,
That contemplates on suicide.
What passing fear just won’t subside,
To make them want to stop this ride?

What makes a person feel such pain?
To take a life seems so insane,
For what sole purpose be so vain?
What problem couldn’t time soon wane?

Who knows what lie’s in store for us,
If there’s a hell, then what’s the rush?
And if there’s nothing but death’s touch,
Then how could all your problems hush?

Life often has it’s ups and downs,
Wait long enough and ups come round.
You’ll find that life is quite profound,
It’s lessons leave much to expound.

So, whatever pain and sorrow brings,
It’s not worth cutting life’s short string.
Just focus on the little things -
And watch, you’ll find a song to sing. 

Copyright © Tammy Armstrong

Details | I do not know? | |

If I Died Today

If I died today,
Would your heart fade away?
If I died today,
Would your heart die with me?

If I died today,
Would you regret
Never telling me
How you really felt?

If I died today,
Would you be able to move on?
If I died today,
Who would go to my funeral?

If I died today,
Would you regret
Never telling me
How you really felt?

If I died today,
Would you see me in everything?
If I died today,
Would anyone even care?

If I died today,
Would you regret
Never telling me
How you really felt?

If I died today,
Would anyone cry for me?
If I died today,
How would you grieve for me?

If I died today,
Would you regret
Never telling me
How you really felt?

If I died today......

Copyright © Molly Massey

Details | I do not know? | |

The Forgotten Child

I recognize your faces
You pass me everyday.
Crossing the street to avoid me.
Jeering eyes cut into my soul
My pride died long ago.

While you work I’m working too
Moving from corner to corner
Praying for a miracle to come
Dealing with deafening regrets.
I long to walk with you

For just one day.

As the clock strikes five
You all pass me again
Can you spare some change?
I feel your eyes avoiding mine
I have a family out there
But their eyes avoid me too.

An embarrassment to them.
An embarrassment to you.
I deal with it every day.
I hate what I’ve become
But I’m so very numb now.
I fall asleep with my decisions.

Just as you do.

Good night Society.
If you wake up and I’m not there
Don’t worry.
Wherever I am now, 
Is better than where I was.
If there is a heaven,
I’ll greet you there where
You can see me for what I really am.

As God sees me.

And if not, 
I hope that comfort
Keeps you warm and safe.
Someday death will come
And you’ll have to ask yourself
If you had any regrets.
And you’ll  have to face what I face
Everyday.

Tomorrow.

Copyright © Tammy Armstrong

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees

Details | Ballad | |

Broken Dreams

  Do you believe in the things that you've always known,
Can you understand the things you've been shown.
   Is it the visions you see that make you believe,
Or is the feelings you get when you've been deceived.
    The pain you feel a never ending ache ,
Tearing your heart and soul from you every day.
    Time ticks slowly pounding away at you,
Throbbing heart breaking and there's nothing you can do,
    Must I settle for these lost and broken dreams,
Because it has all the signs that what it seems.
    How much should a man endure to find his way,
It cant possibly be like this hard for me every day.
    There is nothing so frustrating as being so confused,
Especially when you've discovered that you've been used.
    I will get through this lonely phase I have no doubts,
But I'm sure there will come a day I'll figure it all out.
    Cautiously I walk the path that's been laid before me,
In faith I will continue for I know he will let me see.
    Life will be thrown at you in so many different ways,
I will be prepared for these things for the rest of my days.
    Broken dreams will be the learning tree for me to grow ,
Living my life with Joy Happiness is what I'll always Know.
tac

Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER

Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Look Away

Look Away


Don't look this way
For I have been burned in the face.
Defeat and captured
Only released by the sound of my breathing.
From dust till dawn
I say look away for I no longer wish for you to see me.
Released the blood from my eyes.
Look away for I have you placed in my heart
I wish you not to see me this way.
Though I be burn ,torn,tattered and fatal wounded 
Shall my breathing keep me sane.
May you memory keep me warm
See these words I speak,hear me breathing so shallow.
Feel the darkness that formed in my eyes
Since this is my mind I may be released.
But forever trapped in a maze that brings 
Me up to drag me down.
Look away for I am burned in the face
As long as you remember your in my heart,
And memory I shall be in yours.
So I shall say look away
For I am burned tattered and torn inside my mind.
Just look away

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes

Details | Epigram | |

Absence Makes the Heart ---

Your absence hurts me,
Like a persistent toothache
Or a pair of too-tight shoes.....
But, worse, your hard face,
When finally we meet,
Leaves me panicked, gasping --
A doomed and thrashing swimmer
Drowning in your indifference.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Free verse | |

Gene, Gene, the Singing Machine

(in memoriam, Eugene Lawler, d. January 29, 2012, aged 83 years)

--- Note:  "The singing machine" is a not so tongue-in-cheek reference to Gene and his penchant for singing whenever and wherever he wished, as well as to his karaoke
equipment and his nickname at bars that featured karaoke nights. ---


You fancied yourself a singer,
and indeed you were.
What songs we heard from you
you had made your own,
and you gave them freely
to all who would listen
(though we were just a few
who were, at times, inattentive.)
Time and remembrance may color
the images you left behind,
and the sentimental songs
you sang (and scribed on silver disks 
for us to hear when, and if, we will)
may prod us to recall
your willful, dour demeanor
which could bloom into benevolence
or darken further in stormy sneers
at tardiness, or at perceived
maltreatment of any sort.
You were your own arbiter of behavior
who kept before you expectations
of what was appropriate, for yourself
and for us, the others of your kind.
We were few (still fewer now),
who flocked together on occasion
to celebrate, in quiet fashion,
whatever anniversary we chose --
perhaps your passing date
will become another to be marked.
And your voice, reproduced mechanically,
amplified, may remind us of our loss,
and of yours.  

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Epigram | |

White Cat

What of this pregnant white cat?
Her dirty fur a smudge
Against the snow's crisp canvas,
She mews at my door for milk.
A stranger to me, she appeared
Without express invitation,
And now, she lingers like a cold.
This cat is an embarrassment.
Like friends whom I feed
Because I lack strength
To turn them away.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

A Dark Fairy-tale

A Dark Fairytale

As I was chained, I breathe in.
As I was burned, I breathe out.
As I was cut, I looked down.
As I was broken, I looked up.
As I was destroyed, I closed away.
I had killed myself damaging beyond any repair.
To keep myself closed I chain, cut, burned, and destroyed what was within me, isolation my fear around me. But suddenly as I had nearly been kindled to a shivering light, something braver and stronger then I appeared and took me and held me and once again I was fixed and this is what happened; 
Suddenly I breathed in as I was unchained.
Suddenly I breathed out as my burns disappeared.
Suddenly I looked up as my broken body mended.
Suddenly I looked down as my cuts faded.
Suddenly I was opened up and my destruction was nothing more then a dream
As my knight, you entered that shadow and held me now I grow with a unprofaned radiance.
I was held once more, and my soul emerged.
I was spoken to once more, and my mind went blank.
I was kissed and my body reacted without a second hesitation.
And before I could run away once more, I was trapped.
Unlike my prison I lived in a fairytale, in were I don’t want to live this place anytime soon. What happened then and what happening now are so fair apart it hilarious.
 I’ve forgiven the past, not forgotten it. Prove never to make the same mistakes or else be locked back inside that tower I call my mind. 
Let me in brave knight, into your mysterious ways.
Let me in brave knight let me have secret passages into that world of yours. 
Let me in brave knight so I can truly capture you. 
I was as cold as ice even more then winters hail, but you with a ridged past that icier then I could have imagined is as warm as the summer sun and sweet like spring air.
For saving me, for taking my heart, for releasing me, I’ll become everything you want and then more, I’ll stand by your side and hold you like you held me and I shall be everything you need.
My sweet Knight.






Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Senryu | |

Innovation Invigorates Inspiration: Tribute To Michael Jackson

My main man Michael Where you’re is where you’re, J Keep shining like stars ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~ © Joseph Spence, Sr., 6/28/09 © All Rights Reserved ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~ Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine; Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran. ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Free verse | |

Judge and Jury

Should I disregard
what other people think or,
balanced on the brink, maintain
a thin-veneered façade?
Where shall I store,
how shall I keep,
the poetry I must write
but cannot show--
that which smolders deep
and threatens to erupt?
Must I lock it all
securely in a box,
store it high upon a shelf
where none are wont to go?
Would it be likely to corrupt
the innocently unaware?
Should I, at least,
pretend to care?
Might not I plunge into the mob,
joining others of this ilk...
should it be my job
to preach, now the day
has finally been reached --
to walk alone in open air,
free from fear of full disclosure?
Would my revelations stir
those who taunt, who hate?
Might not their spate of hurtful words,
and worse, prompt my avoidance of 
the fate they threaten,
encourage my reluctance to unmask?
And may I be moved, instead,
in surly tones, to ask
who made them my judge and jury?

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Rhyme | |

Bukowski

Was it said before? Sure.
Was it said this way? I doubt it.
Perspective is in no way obscure,
And his works are nothing without it.

His motivation’s observed in daily life,
Misery, not just some vague inspiration.
He begs for reason, some way to lessen strife;
His words reflect a resounding desperation.

There seems a need at times to clarify, 
But that’s allowed in his terms only;
So many thoughts seem somewhat ‘rarefied’,
Fed his fire, but made him lonely.

No ‘underachiever’, not just another fool,
But still seeking solace by the glass;
Tempering his stagger and his drool 
With just a bit of ‘kiss my ass.’ 

But, usually, genius ‘sots’ come to ground,
Lucid moments - on the square;
Their driving ‘bolts’ of genius, word or sound,
Only written because they dare.

Yes, you can feel the written “heart”,
But few of us can realize that sort of pain;
No isolated misery… of many lives a part,
Each begs an answer... “Who’ll stop the rain?”

Yes, he’s lived it, seen it, and told it well;
But Timing is the Master of one’s Fate.
Is the timing right?  Funny…only time will tell…
Will you will be a whining sot or dare to be great?

One success can be lucky, we’ve seen that before.
One book, one song, then quietly fade away.
But six novels later, we should know the score;
He must have had something to say.

So, at the perfect time, someone heard.
Someone who was “someone” took someone under wing.
And to those with interest and empathy, they sold his words;
Saying they “are genius” and with “ugly truth” they ring.

But did he create any redeeming changes or impacts?
Yes, what singular influence did all his artful whining bring?
None... just a relentless, repetitive diatribe of sad facts.
Oh, yes…..and a little “ching ching”.

Entered in the "Idiot or Genius" contest 27 March 2014

not so genius

 

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Free verse | |

Murderapolis Streets, Claim Two More Young Heartbeats

Native, Liteskin, sun kissed
smiles
sit, talk, get to know me 
a while
for I am not my skin and 
even though the tan pigment
runs deep
I am my heart, thoughts
and actions,reflection of
company
I keep
A car accident took
my Homies brother this morning
and as we sit and talk to him
now, through faded room mourning
Young man, stole pop’s keys
from sleeping pockets
joy riding with friends
headlights beaming, MN
summer star sky gleaming
Dad's unaware, boy & friends left
 till woke, by early morn’ meeting
God opened the skies and took
two good ones away
I felt it rained, clouds crying briefly
for them today
70 miles an hour, Murderapolis streets
took two good homies heartbeats
jus’ a mile away, a close
friend heard the tires screech
Driver yells to him, “get a knife & cut me out!”
Neighbor, like doe eyes in headlights
filled with doubt
ends up dying after all
at the hospital
down 29th Ave and McKinley St.
Two of the Five Souls involved
God, now, does keep
I recall seeing the drivers smile
less than one week ago
why Mista Watkins & White Jr.
was it yo’ time to go
your loved ones may never know
We don’t always understand
the Lords plan
but He surely knows
heartache and sorrow
is how July fourteenth does go
two significant young Southside sons 
at 3:30 am, drove into a utility pole
crushed glass ridden streets
two homies, with us no mo’
I pray Jesus be with them
and theirs
as they grieve, and friends
surround them with the love
they need
car accidents & tragedies
like these
close to home to you
tend to place things in perspective
defrost a persons mind
set it into view
cuz’ its not about the color, of
your skin, or where you came from
it’s the way you impact the world
in the end, who you’ve grown to
become
the lives lost, were good peoples
Stood for good values like Church steeples
vibrant athletic youths of the future
barely 14 & 17, gone too soon
I hear the sad, cry, lonely night of our
Loon
Murderapolis streets, claim
two more young heartbeats
you will forever be remembered
and loved, keep an eye on us
from above, we know you’re
in a better place, were all running
an impossible to win race
for we all have a time card to punch
under the Lords undying grace
your Influence and charm, young men
is locked within us
Safe
and we shall all party again
in the Kingdom of Heaven
our final resting Place

7/15/2010: R.I.P.- Patrick Watkins (17) & Duane White Jr. (14)- South Side, Minneapolis, MN
you are forever loved and missed, but not forgotten, watch us from Heaven, Amen

Copyright © Heather Hill

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Narrative | |

Una Visita con Mama -- A Visit With Mama

We walk the rocky shore
and you lean heavily on me,
Mother, bruising my balky arm --
muttering "Ay, Hijo!";
a few steps and, breathless,
we are both exhausted.
Your once-brown eyes, gone gray,
are like concentric rings
rippling from a random stone
thrown into a polluted pond
in winter: eyes as flat
as the latex paint that
coats a cheerless rented room.
Cataracts circle your lenses;
they have a ruptured look --
purple, jellied -- like the eyes
of a dead fish, which I poke,
perversely fascinated.
It is puffed and rotten.
Your eyes are puffed, too, red-rimmed,
moist with tears that brim over
though you try to blink them back.
That you love me and I you,
and that we wish to extend
our time together, is clear --
as clear as the black water
in the pond, as clear as your
cataract-clouded eyes,
as clear as my conscience
when I drop you at the Home,
cleverly inventing an important
meeting, to which I will hastily fly.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.



Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen

Details | Rhyme | |

I'm a Muslim I'm not a Terrorist

I am a Muslim, I’m not a “terrorist”.
How can I be a terrorist
when I’m against all kinds of injustice.

I’m against every act of sin and evil.
I hate all kinds of crime and even loathe
what Adolf did to the innocent Jewish people.

I hate what God hates; He (Allah) hates oppression.
I’m against stealing, against taking away
people’s loved ones and belongings for no reason.

I’m against suicide bombings,
against racism, against ignorance,
against self-harm and even derision.

What God hates I hate and God (Allah) hates
oppression. I hate it too when people fight
for foolish nationalistic reasons.

I’m a Muslim; I follow the true religion
of mercy from Allah the Most Merciful
Who simply wants us to answer His Call
to believe in Just One -Just One God of all.

So don’t call me a “terrorist” when I clearly
don’t have a ‘mass destruction’ weapon
and my goal in life is to
be with our God (Allah) in Heaven.

Copyright © Mariam Mababaya