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On Writing And Words Sympathy Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Sympathy

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Details | Verse | |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart

Copyright © Katrina Salem

Details | Elegy | |

His Legacy

Up into the sky 
he soared 
like an Angel

With us 
down here-- 
at Soupland, watching him as he soared 
like an Angel;

So gentle… 
and brave 
he was,
a strong love he had, sharing it till the end, yet

His breath
could not resist the resounding call 
of Heaven 
and he left, 

Leaving us his poetry, for 
when great storms come in, his laughter 
will dry our tears like rain.


for Tom Bell, a great poet who taught us all-- 
to laugh and to smile…to learn… and to give.    

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Quatrain | |


I have entered many poetry contests
to display my amazing number of sixty or more,
only one of my poems has won first place;
poets are like enduring athletes who fight to the very core! 

One big hurray goes to myself for the first win,
congratulations to the other participants
who are on the top of that list, or have been
awarded Honorable Mentions for their efforts!  

When my poem doesn't make it to the finalists's list,
I don't feel discouraged, I brazen out the doubt and try again;
even Lance Armstrong, with his skills, can't always win his race,
and the trophy must be given to someone else!

I rejoice when some of the chosen poets appear 
on the winners' list; I am happy for their accomplishment,
and into a word-restricted message's box I gladly comment
on their poetry...with the insight of an achiever!

And for those whose names never made it as previously thought,
I honestly tell you, from experience, not to be a bit discouraged...
your time will come when your enthusiasm will require a big shout;
never put the word, " Winner " to rest, write for fun and persist instead! 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Lyric | |

Love Notes

Love notes 
Wordings from the heart
That I’m trying to use 
To cover this scented stationery
With my ball point scribbler, I’m proud 
To match the sensual scent 
Of your lovely and fiery lips
With crimson thoughts, but as I finally come 
To end my writings, after so many pages 
Hooked thrown into a silent bin 
I begin to wonder if it’s better to recite
My love notes to you in person
For this way you would feel 
Much, much better…
The bubbling rhythm 
Of my heart


Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

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 | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

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

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 | 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 | Dramatic monologue | |

Leashed Down

Leashed Down

Bound by my hands
Bound by my legs
Bound by my waist 
Bound by my neck
I can't  hear
I can't  smell
I can't taste
I can't see
I put everything away and only thought of
What brought me joy.Nor do I want to
Cry leaving my captures to smile about
To gloat,to have that unknown brutal power
Over me which is held in one tear.
My  body numb,my heart is stopped,my mind is blank
Is this dying? Why am I paralyzed? Could it be falling a sleep?
These chains are cold but everything is hot.What feeling beside
Pity would become of me?..Be it not grief not sadness not even remorse.
But as I stand up from this seat,I am nothing more then a well mannered
Pup on a tight leash.

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes

Details | Questionku | |


If written by God,
Why lost rhyme, measure?

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa

Details | Elegy | |

The desert was a beach.

I stood by the periphery… 
gracelessly doling derivative remarks 
(all that is rhetorical in rhetoric and blatant in denial) 
upon my comrades, the dust shot Sandinistas of midsummer masochism, 
the caliphs of ‘Baltic Bay’.  
“The armistice laid flowers upon 
the salt seasoned lip of the hatch-backed hawk…” 
Blood fell passively between his heartbroken legs, 
siphoned from each and every available pore; 
the oxygenated irony of pneumatic Gnosticism: 
“The desert was a beach.” 
They say that war is a catalytic catharsis, a palatial reprieve,
without languid logic or porous rationality, 
the emancipation of masculinity, 
castrated by the wire… 
I thought it was hell… I was taught to think otherwise… 
The torrential shards of verbal promiscuity 
stole light unto the fore, 
anxiously negotiating 
the parochial labyrinth of incandescent egotism, 
intrinsically denied.  
Rare, poached howitzers… laden with anxiety 
bore slight from the barbed-wire battalion 
of ill-fitting idiots, 
shuffling their feet, settling their nerves, 
sealing their fate with 
slack pot meandering midst snip sniped surprise.
“The technicality of principalities, dukedoms and deceit, 
tune the tuneless melody and save your soul from hate. “ 
Their calibre unknown, their reasons unfounded… 
the calypso calling cantaloupes of entrepreneurial acumen 
shot black with dusk… slid unto the night. 
Corporal rationale: “Half an hour of ambiguity…” 
Lieutenant liquidation: “Twenty minutes of woe…” 
Collective privacy: “Ten minutes of philistine philanthropy…”
Collective piracy: “Five minutes of... … ….” 
Towel clenched soviets, eager and resentful, 
scape-goaded the photographic horde into meagre submission… 
subverting the course of justice. 
Rented Kalashnikovs rattled ravenous replies… 
once, twice, three times a corpse… 
“Androgyny and xenophiles, the pasteurised provocateur… 
draped in Prada propped dynamics, mechanically aware…”   
Desiccant faeces flew five feet into the air; 
the aluminium gilded lavatories received the short end of the stick, 
figuratively emasculated… 
literally liquidated within (without) the… humdrum humidity. 
Gabriel dictated the proceedings. 
The abortive restraint of sycophantic silencers 
and Hassidic hallucinations, 
graced by a political patriarchy… 
urinating upon the synthetic soil.





Copyright © William Ward

Details | Free verse | |


Thinking of you always
Every second interludes 
A past a future when always we
are interrupted by a bitter sweet mention
Of you my love why do we question
all rhetorical for you, for me
love baits good interludes 
the all agonizing ecstasy 
can not dissipate a week a year
for love is longer than our time
while life is short as bread
why in love do we feast
on the bitter tears we are fed	
to find within a love long and true
though at times bare and brass
cowardly, does not recede
			straight or bow kneed
					this love must proceed

Copyright © sylvanwillow leaf

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry About Poetry

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Copyright © Justin Robbins

Details | Ballad | |

Better Than Grace

how can we pretend that everything is okay
when the world is soon to turn to grey
I've took this life and its treasures in vane
when you'd easily trade with me any day

you're amazing better than grace
so amazing just can't turn the page
amazing can't find the strength
to gaze at your face and not look away
look what we've done, coming undone
slowly fading away, so amazing
better than grace

you say they gave you less than six months
never thought it could hurt this much
I'd give anything just to save you
oh what can i do, just say because

you're amazing better than grace
so amazing just can't turn the page
amazing can't find the strength
to gaze at your face and not look away
look what we've done, coming undone
slowly fading away, so amazing
better than grace

with every breath we take, just another test today
don't walk away before it's too late
we should all be ashamed of ourselves because

he's amazing better than grace
so amazing just can't turn the page
amazing can't find the strength
to gaze at your face and not look away
look what we've done, coming undone
slowly fading away, so amazing
better than grace

Copyright © William Boyd

Details | Bio | |

from father to son-

insurance policies 
laboured unto birth… 
the mythic glance 
of gentile gratification; 
the populist pariah 
sheathed sternly under glass… 
exhibited ad nauseam; 
pardoned upon the 
tandem bicycle, 
midst the callous cyclic queue…
from father to son…

Copyright © William Ward

Details | Free verse | |

Scent Of A Korean Tea

See this not as a flattery
Thou, we both know that 
We met, only, yesterday
But truth is I am missing 
You, every night and day

You and only you
I think of no other, as
I spell out 
These words of mine 
My arts, from the heart

You told me 
To gaze the stars
Whilst I begged you 
To ask the birds
How to fly

I remember that night
It’s something, I’ll not forget
The scent of a Korean tea
Brewed, delicately, with love
To sanctify me

It was already two a. m. when I 
Walked home, from your place
Guided by the sleepy moon 
I found out, we passionately speak
Nature’s own language

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Classicism | |

twenty four hours O'raisin deter-:

Senseless sensibility, 
they eolith dualist monopolies all too sudden… 
a true contradition; sentries of, 
as already sated… 
senseless sensibility… municipally… 
you-will-seize… day after deign… 
night after umberellian echoes… 
aversely cyclic… 
for if the wakean lent voice o’er hop itself, 
dost veer cane tray nether realm as well? 
Neigh… endomorphic; anthropaedophilic lust… 
steadily endures romantic inflammations… 
a rash once fought… 
until the moral ambiguity slides back 
unto tenuous tense and marathon… 
as if the end was already soon, or had passed…? 
For that as it seems is all too rhetorical in rhetoric, 
and misconstrued by puncture floundered fallacappy… 
gently top-plead due to intrinsartistic licensing… 
twenty four hour raffles, tambala sable… 
twenty four hours O’raisin deter…:

Copyright © William Ward

Details | Acrostic | |

Love's Reverence, a cover of ''A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky''

Chivalrist of pure intent
Honoured by the ears that lent
A tale recounted to content

Resplendant wonders brought to ear
Laments that draw an unseen tear
Evasion of the heart's deep fear

Soft young mind and placid eyes
Lucid to the tale's disguise
Unseeing the truth behind the lies

There upon the golden water
Wimsically listening to the lauder
Inclines the middle Liddell daughter

Days have come and years have passed
Golden evenings couldn't last
Erosionary time has swept too fast

Dreary dawns and bitter nights
Overcame the muse's might
Dead and gone, that fragile light

Greiving when his heart was tore
Secreted to land of lore
On through Wonderland he'll soar

Now to dream forevermore

Copyright © Marchioness Of Mock Turtles

Details | Couplet | |

The Monster

The monster became a living, walking nightmare
my dive into insanity, no longer perfect, containing a blank stare

I should resist, the monster will find me, run away with me
Pretend to hear my meager complaints, force me to see what I'm afraid to see

Blame and guilt, volleying right and left, up and down
It's crashing me closer, with every step, I'm falling to the ground

It's all a game, just play along, play the game, play it well
Brimming confidence, dissolved in thoughts, of what? I won’t tell

Demons, devil born souls, run quick, run fast, stand my ground
No sense of fear, n sense of foreboding, not even a slight sound

High speed, pursuit of hell, bent on going, bent on crashing
Giving into the power, life's faster, lights flashing

Crash and torment me again, my eyes close after all
The beginning of the end for me, feeling numb after the fall

Is there a way out? I'm different, distant and moved on
Listen to the water, calling, coaxing into death, I'm gone

Endless, empty cloud; dreamless oblivion; oxygen, exhalation
Am I dead? Still alive? Broken into pieces, I need motivation

Reality closes in, walls me in; until there’s nothing there
Death comes behind me, containing a blank stare.

Copyright © Candice Vega

Details | Rhyme | |

Scary Feeling

I feel like sl-lit,
i wanna flip.
Let my words rip,
come take a sip.

My phone keeps on ringing,
its chesney hawkins singing.
I get this scary feeling,
she's gönnä nail me for stealing.

I look at the sealing,
wish i knew what was the meaning.
I must start to pray,
every single day.

I'm smoking myself to death,
i need to take a deep breath.
Please don't make me fall,
i don't wanna end it all.

Copyright © Kobus Bekker

Details | Ode | |

Prayer To My Self

Walking away might be the most hardest things for a man to do, you cant even imagine what that feeling can do to you. Falling flat on your face would be better than to look shameful, even walking around naked around the streets would be cool. But like any story in life goes, there is always that one person that will help you get back on your feet and walk again. No matter how much you fall, no matter how much you stumble upon a struggle, that person will be there with you till the end. Give love and thanks to this person who never leaves your side and helps you put a smile on your face everyday. When the day comes to an end and you know that the person has to go, all you can wish is for your special person to stay. Mine has walked away on me, I was so blind that i couldn't see. She wanted everything for her self, for me to change and be what she wanted me to be, but i had to let her go and never see this person again, cause it would only be worse in the end. Writing this is more painful than getting your body tattooed, writing this is more painful than getting over screwed. Writing this is more painful than words, writing this is more painful than razor sharp swords. No matter how much you try to let it out it just wouldn't come out, the pain is way to deep and its almost like its tattooed on your bodies gout. haven't i been hurt enough in this world, i just don't understand why i am being treated like this, is it cause i am better than you and have nothing to look forward too but my blue and black handkerchief? The cut was way to deep my dear, you just cant imagine, i have been cut and bruised for the last time, i can promise you that. No one will ever touch this body or hurt this soul ever again, if you wish to try so, go ahead and check it, but before that go ahead and get yourself a casket.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin

Details | Haiku | |

The End

The End
Nothing left to say;
journey has been completed,
all is finished now.

Copyright © Marie Harrison

Details | Rhyme | |

Dawn of Misfortune

You’re the dawn of despair and gloominess
You’re the sunset that discards my gladness
You deceived me…you made me trek the road of calamity
You grieve for me…you yearn for my sympathy… but I overlook your pity

Horror strikes me, scorching away my destiny
My confidence has slowly departed from me…so what should I do?
Terror swallows me alive, now I’m begging to flee!
My self-reliance has disregarded and fled from thee…now I’m crammed with woe

Digest the emptiness that I feel deep inside
Heed to what I’m about to announce to you…
Digest the affliction that I brushed aside
Hear what I’m about to warn you about…it’s all true

You deserted me…melt the isolation that has filled us with woe
You brainwashed me…you tarnished my bliss
You captivated me…now I have nowhere to go
You terrorized me…you singed up my happiness

You’re the dawn of anguish and shame
You’re the midnight stars that burn with fame
You betrayed me…you made me cut down my garden…shedding fertility
You mourn for me…you long for my forgiveness… so I’m ready to accept your plea
What is the code that will animate your presence?
What is the code that will liquefy the ice of silence?

Copyright © J. W. Earnings

Details | Tyburn | |


Not fake acting feeling from my part
But, true wording singing of my heart 

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Acrostic | |


Life is a right, to which everyone should have,
Independently it is the most valuable possession of each living being
Verifying the fact that we only have one chance in this world to make a difference
Even if we see ourselves as a sap that can’t change the mood in our area and that we

Lower our standards to say that even dirt is too good for us
Irrationally stating that we have a miserable life and we need to change it
Forgetting the blessings and the joy that God gave us in our current life
Eventually with remorse he’ll forget all of these things and start over again

To test his strength and will power to continue so that he can
Overcome the odds to achieve a pleasant life

This just states that if we work hard we might have a better chance of being content
However living with this in mind we might think that life is about work.
Everything in this world should be earned by working but what is work compared to

Fun, having fun always makes our work more worthwhile because we now 
Use our energy to enjoy ourselves while working and earning things that we desire and
Losing the old gloomy feeling about work and the world
Letting new and much more pleasant things happen to us and letting us
Escape to the happiness that we might have missed when we’re not content in our life
Surprisingly this is the most common problem in the world today so keep this as a
Thought in mind live everything in a way you might be pleased life is precious 

Copyright © Russell Dominic Go

Details | Free verse | |

Never Sympathy

Looking up at all the lights that you can't appreciate
Among the city life I wonder:
What's out there; who's out there for me?
From what I do the thoughts remain in constant circulation.
From what I write will my life be revered or will it be viewed
As a man who struggled to persevere. The outlets in which
I drain my power are far from self-sustaining, and although
Straining, they jolt along. The truth behind his words
Is an authors saddest and most powerful story. His life; in relation
To all that surrounds him. His light; in all that's growing dim. 
The complex written in small words as a reminder, not of spite,
But to remember life and what has been survived. An outward
Expression to set yourself free; hoping for understanding but never sympathy.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs

Details | Narrative | |

Beauty and the Unpublished Author

Far away in a little town tucked in the corner of a map
Lives the girl who ruined his heart
And broke his life

While with him she would smile and laugh so sweet
Tender as only she could be
In his heart she lit even the corners so deep

With time she became his definition of life
In all he did he had her in mind
Life wasn’t life without him seeing her smile

As moments grew into weeks
The flower of his heart started to reveal its wilt
In her eyes no longer was the sparkle he was used to seeing

Winds carried awful odour of their disorder
Tales went round of her illicit exploits behind the counter
The man with the shop at the corner savoured all the honey she offered

At first he dismissed the whispers with laughter
But soon he discovered he was the only one on the other side of reality’s border
Yes indeed, another prince had taken over

Trouble was how sincerely he loved her
Problem was that even she had only love to offer
Issue was he hadn’t yet sold a dime of the books he authored

Copyright © Wiseton Prins

Details | Free verse | |

What may it take to reply

A Page of apology

A Cake or chocolate

A Poetry of smiles

A Bouquet of flowers

A Shower of reminders

Or just a thought that

I remembered You

What may it take to reply

Copyright © azim mohammed

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

A Letter to Sir John Heck

To You, My Dear John

I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind
Passing, quietly, across the gentle seas of the gods.

I am a poet, not ‘cause I was born a poet, but I am 
A poet by sole virtue of what my aging brain sees.

And it controls me more often, than my contrite heart.
Is it pretty good or not, the mind first before the heart?

I have been sitting on this board for a year or two
And I have laid my emotions on forms: if not all,
On some of them. Oh by the way, I mastered none.
I managed though, to stand on the first step of the ladder

Of poetry, yet still, I err musing on foreign tongue I loved:
The wording, the punctuation, the grammar, to list a few.

As you read this, my contrite heart bleeds---
For I will never make it to the pinnacle of my passion.

Surely, I wrote to you, not because I am whining
Or maybe I am, but one thing I do certainly know

Is that I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind
Passing, quietly, across the seas of the gentle gods

To ask you, Sir John, the kind-hearted god of soup whisperers
Am I doing the right thing or I am just wasting my time?
Lastly, do you think to have come this far is an achievement?

Your avid fan, across the gentle seas of the gods 

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Rhyme | |


Delicate one
Gossomer glass
We hoped without knowledge
that this too would pass

(For somewhere a rainbow
whispers your words
Bending and stretching
to hear and be heard)

Delicate one
Candle in wisps
Breath to the sky
in a circling kiss

(Shadows were heavy
and troubles were nigh,
and now, without knowledge,
we tenderly cry...)

This is for Brandon Basson, who, I have learned, passed away the morning of June 20th.

Copyright © Tatyana Carney