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Best Kindness Poems

Below are the all-time best Kindness poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of kindness poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Kindness Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Kindness poems are below this new poems list.

your kindness by alam, ashiq
Contentious Kindness by Dillenbeck, Gerald
DO A DEED OF KINDNESS by Crisci, Andrew
Taking a little bit of kindness by ussery, nicole
Killing with kindness by Das, Nandita
No More Kindness by Kania, Yvonne
Her Kindness - Rondine by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Kindness Doesn't Cost A Thing by Pinet, Emile
BESTOWING KINDNESS by onclaud, nette
Your Kindness by Manassian, Eileen

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The Best Kindness Poems

Details | Kindness Poem | |

God's Kind Of Poetry

I see God in nature, surrounded in the beauty of our earth.
As God may speak with his spark of life dwelling in me,
Expressed though HIS thoughts in my poetic word’s birth. 

“Now all of my children born and reborn in this world,
I will be your parent, grand teacher, and protector.
Know you are part of me as your earthly body is unfurled.

Fragrant flowers should be known as your sister and brother.
Breathe in deeply of the varied glorious tree’s blessed breath;
A gift from me, your omnipotent father and mother.

Each season praises that divine dominion of poetry.
With each season new life emerges with the beginning of spring
Into the warmth of summer across verdant fields and forestry.

Do not fear as I cause autumn season’s winds to blow
In seeming wrath, set upon colorful trees, leaves are freed
To invite winter and the blessings of new fallen snow.

Receive my blessing of light that opens a direct path to me.
Let it shine bright in your life, in all that you say and do.
Share your delight of this blessing through inspired poetry.

Be aware of your words for they embrace the real you.
Others may be hurt by careless words spoken.
Remember, words mean as much as your actions do.

Any kindness you display by reaching out to those in need
Is always a welcome gift and returned to you in kind,
Only in much more abundance to help YOU succeed.

As you question the heavenly stars in their distant galaxies
The answers lie within yourself, if you will be still and meditate.
You may seek the truth in your own mind for life’s realities.

I am near you always, within and without, have no doubt.
I only wish you love and happiness, even though I know
You must experience difficult times to learn what life’s about.

For you are my child and I rejoice in lessons you’ve learned of.
Teach your children to revere and love me, not fear me,
I’m here to guide and protect them, for you see, I am LOVE!”

Please put your trust in me both below and above
For my divine power and glory is centered in love.

© Connie Marcum Wong

For Brian Johnston’s contest: “God’s Kind of Poetry”

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong

More great poems below...

Details | Kindness Poem | |

The Spirit Of Poetry Soup

I see her from a distance as she soars above the skies 
Below her are the poets, they are watching with big eyes 

Some are blowing windpipes to help the wind rescind
Some are pointing fingers and making lots of wind 

Some are leaving nasty notes while others blessing dotes 
Some don’t’ seem to care they are wearing many coats 

I see her from a distance she’s a dove with a broken wing 
Yes we own lyrics/words, and if we want to, we can sing 

Some just want to use you and some they love abuse 
Some write for the passion and some are quite abstruse 

I see her from a distance she lobs and walks with strut 
Sometimes she seems to me like a little wounded mutt

Some are blowing windpipes to help the wind rescind 
Some are blowing kisses to the windmills of the wind 

You can be the Blesser or you can be the Lesser   
You can put a Smile on us or you can be a Stressor  
I have to tell you something, I’m longing for some peace  
I’d rather be a loving dove than be the squawking geese

Some people crash and burn, and some they never learn 
Some people change and better, before they reach the urn 

I see her from a distance flying in the sky 
It’s up to us to keep her there and NOT to make her cry.

Written by: Mystic Rose 
May 4, 2014

I love you all and I am proud to be part of your family 
Please treat each other with kindness  
It’s a tough battle out there, let’s make poetry soup a haven 
And let’s start behaving….

Ps. This poem was not written with anyone in mind, it is not my intention to 
offend anyone just to make you aware of how much this site means to me 
and to all of you.

Copyright © Mystic Rose

Details | Kindness Poem | |

I, Woman

I, woman, love life, so I celebrate every little joy whether spent with my friends, family, or just myself! I follow the Golden Rule, for kindness guides me; also I’ve learned that smiling is the universal language! Written 4/13/2015 For the I, Icon Contest of : Sheri Fresonke Harper

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Kindness Poem | |


An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.

Copyright © Jim Fish

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come here
dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who suffered loss
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy with goals
beyond our reach...beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we hold back all the tears for now

                for, this was my child who suffered loss
                impossible........I can't express it


Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Place In My Heart

The scent of fresh baked cookies filling the air Sounds of Andrea Bocelli ringing in my ear There's a pep in my step and a feeling unfamiliar My heart pounding, craving one night, one taste one look, one touch Words dancing off your pages speaking to my soul entwined in romance etched in my heart tying me in knots My heart has been opened welcoming you in No longer vacant it longs for your warmth your kindness your presence your whole Mind blown. heart owned bringing fantasy into reality walking hand in hand to the beat of the band For tonight in the stars it has been written there is a place for you in my heart

Copyright © Tim Smith

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Hear Oh L-rd

The Festival of Lights, Chanukah has arrived
a hopeful time of praise each year revived. 
The Menorah lit, each home becomes a church.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

Our sister Miriam lights the shamash taper first 
a maiden fair and scholarly her prayers rehearsed
to bring together all that's beautiful, diverse.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

Eight nights we praise the L-rd for gifting us with Light
and pass around small things which bring delight. 
We rejoice. In brotherhood we are immersed.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

May G-d in his greatness light all your days
May family, friends, and foes mend their ways 
for all have needs, let kindness tame their thirsts
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

*Bo-ruch A-toh Ado-noi E-lo-hei-nu Me-lech Ho-olom A-sher Ki-de-sho-nu Be-mitz-vo-sov Ve-tzi-vo-nu Le-had-lik Ner Shel Cha-nu-kah. 
* Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe, who has sanctified us by His commandments, and has commanded us to kindle the lights of Chanukah. 

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Kindness Poem | |


What goes up must come down. 
No colors can define who you are. 
You may own a cart or limousine. 
We'll still reach the end when it is near. 
I may be poor today and eat from trash. 
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash. 
The bed where you lie is soft and wide. 
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp. 
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table 
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able. 
Our destiny isn't written in the stars. 
We work for a living to thrive in this life. 
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun 
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I. 
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round. 
Today you'll be on top, 
I am watching from the ground. 
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds. 
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed. 
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes. 
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life. 

sponsor:FRANK H.

name of 

*5th Place winner

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Love Sleeps, Never Dies

An old man
A Grumpy bitter old man
Bitter face
Red nose
Wrinkled beady eyes
Scruffy clothes his best attire

Life has not been kind
So his bitter words bite those around
He lived alone, inside his madness
Leave me be and go to hell
His favorite expressions

The phone rang one night late
This is the Court sir, your brother’s son and family 
Have been in a terrible accident
Only your niece of four survived
When can you pick her up?

The old man was in a daze
What the hell was he being punished for now
Keeping care of a dam kid
What the bloody hell did he know about that?
"Well sir, we will be expecting you tomorrow, 9am prompt please"

Walking back to his flat, with a 4 year old girl in tow
Well the neighbors gawked to say the least
The poor little girl, tears and teddy, trying to keep up with grumpy
Once inside his flat, he looked at her with disdain
Said "Guess you be expecting some food or some such"

She nodded, as sad as she was, she was indeed hungry
He showed her the cupboard and fridge, milk and cereal in there
Help yourself, and wash the dam dishes afterwards
Don’t got no extra bed, so you sleep here on the couch
She nodded silently, thinking the world truly must have ended

Days, turned into weeks, turned into months
This little girl complained not once
All she could think of was her pain
Mummy and daddy were in heaven where ever that was
Why they left her was truly confusing

Friday was her birthday
She was sad and missing her family
Getting ready, she went to the cupboard for dinner
The old man said what the hell you doing that for?
She shivered in fear, he was always so so so mad

She apologies, sorry uncle Pete
He replied you sit your self down right there
And you be quiet you here?
Then the lights all of sudden went out
Bright tiny candles burned in the night

The old man, said, is your birthday after all
Hope you don’t mind these little cupcakes I got us here
She looked at him with new eyes
He turned, not quite smiling, no miracles just yet
They ate in silence after which, he said good night and happy birthday

The next morning even they really never talked
Other than who does what chores
Or how expensive she was to care for
She asked out of the blue
"Uncle, why do angels have wings?"

In his usual grumpy way, he replied
"So they get the hell away from us as fast as they can is why
This world is no place for happiness or angels get used to that"
She was taken back by his bitterness, still………
She replied, “but I dream on them looking over me uncle"

Well he looked at her, and somewhat softly and with unusual kindness
He answered her "that’s because you are one of them, a sweet little angel"
She ran into his arms and gave him a big hug
This was a very good thing.
For then she could not see the single tear the dropped to the floor

He actually hugged her back and with all of his heart
That day, a day for most people that was a normal day
Was for him and his little charge, a miracle
A small loving child, held that secret key
To opening an old mans heart

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Because He Gave A Single Rose

Her tired old eyes lit up bright.
A thankful tear, she could not hide.
A sweet aroma fills her nose;
because he gave a single rose.

Confined to this dreary nursing home;
having outlived family, she's alone.
Today, with a smile, her face glows;
because he gave a single rose.

He brings them often to his mother.
Today, one extra for another.
Talking, on and on she goes;
because he gave a single rose.

She asked an aid to bring a vase.
By her bed the gift was placed.
Happy and peaceful then she dozed;
because he gave a single rose.

Her final breath tonight was sweet.
Family missed, again to meet.
Her last day joyful, all heaven now knows;
because he gave a single rose.

July 17, 2014
Contest: Random acts is kindness
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi

Copyright © Arlene Smith

Details | Kindness Poem | |

The Library of Trust and Hope

The Library of Trust and Hope
The Bank of Trust and Hope

(Cant decide on title, so feel free to pick or suggest one)

She was all but four years of age
Birthdays were such magical moments
The cake was filled with candles
The balloons still in their package twelve on the table

Daddy daddy, I can not fill these balloons!!
They are not magic like you said!!!!!
Do not fret Maria, its daddy who is magical
I shall help you little one, let me see those balloons

Sure enough daddy blew up twelve white and pink balloons
Maria was in awe at daddy’s magical powers
She knew her daddy would fight dragons to bring her but a smile
Maria knew she was safe in daddy's arms, oh what a birthday this will be

Maria was now ten years older
Fourteen years old and already filled with so many happy memories
On this fall day, home from school
There was grandpa in the back yard as usual

He was tending his garden of roses
When she was younger, he told her they were magical roses
Grandma would speak to him in his magical garden
From the heavens above

Now at eighteen, daydreaming in a coffee shop
A stranger picks up a rose from an empty table
A smile oozing in charm, stares into her eyes
This is for you, beauty for beauty

She was swept off her feet, in a whirlwind romance
They danced and dined, it seemed all on her dime
Until the morning she awoke, completely alone
Both lover and credit cards did abscond

Now twenty one, and wise to the world
Absorbed in her studies, somewhat colder than one should be for that age
A chilly fall day in an empty library
A stranger comes, giving her a drawing of a red rose

Hello he says! I drew this for you!
Oh no she thinks to herself, not another one!
Politely she smiles and replies thank-you, but I am taken
This stranger smiles right back and says, the drawing is for you no matter

The next week, and the weeks after, the same routine
He comes to her with a drawing of another beautiful rose
She politely declines his advances
Maria knows that a rose, has a stem, and that comes with pricks

The twelfth week and here he is again
What is the poor girl to do?
She is curious, and she can not quite help herself
She asks, from what do you draw such beautiful flowers?

He smiles kindly and replies
How about next week, I show you?
We can have a coffee, and discuss art
Hesitating she just can not say no to this simple gesture of kindness

They are walking along, and surprisingly she finds herself
Quite intrigued with the ease of their conversation
He takes hold of her hand, and says I live over there, the house in red
She has no time to object as he pulls her forward to the backyard

She stares in absolute shock and awe at what appears before her
Why its the most beautiful, wonderful, enchanting English garden she ever saw
You? she stammers, you made this?
He smiles shyly and says; well now you know what inspires my drawings

Now Maria is eighty and filled with both happiness and sadness
Her husband of all these years has passed on
To be with all his precious roses in the heavens waiting
She sits in their garden, remembering a life time of memories

She picks a single rose, and inhales its fragrance
Contemplating the wisdom's of life
I miss you so much my love
You taught me trust is earned and not given
	Your love was my blanket of happiness, wait for me my love, 
		I am yours eternally

Dear Reader

I was lucky in life to have had a good upbringing. My daddy, showered me with love, but most of all he taught me that gifts were not objects, balloons were not magical, nor was he. I learned that what was magical is the time and effort he took to love me, and protect me and those memories I so cherish, but they also he showed me the values I hold dear in myself and those around me. 

Then there was dear old grandpa. His garden was his passion, and I suspect that if I could have had more time to spend with him, it was really grandma’s passion, and after her passing, this was the activity that kept him close to her soul. In that respect, I guess it was truly a magical garden. Whenever he saw me, his eyes would light up, he would pour lemonades and he told me such wonderful stories. Unlike many though, he listened to all my troubles and told me, that in life I had to learn some things the hard way, but that he himself knew for a certainty that I would find the love and happiness, that as a young women, I felt would be lost to me forever.

I re-tell my story for all the people out there that have lost trust in others, or have lost hope in humanity. You may have your heart stolen for awhile, someone can bring you sadness, but never let them steal your soul. Learn that trust is earned, not given, and never punish the rest of the world, for your bad experience, for ultimately it is you who suffers most. Be giving, kind and generous, with a strong will and mind. If someone does not respect you, then they shall never earn your trust, and that’s how it should be. Be wise, be prudent, be safe, but most of all be open to love and kindness

God bless
Maria Sefue

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Kindness Poem | |

She is, or maybe she is not

She found herself
In the shards of who I am
The broken bits
The shadows
The resurrection of yesterday's pauses

I wonder
Was it the happy bits
The quiet contemplations
Or does she exist 
Within the doubts
The abbreviated sentences
The opinions of her own imposters
Those who choose to see her with veiled perceptions
Is she who she wants to be
Or is she in a state of becoming
I try to see past my own limitations

I wade through my wheres
Trying to see where 
Where she has been
Where is she now
Yes I wonder why
Why does she identify with me
I am left to ponder

Who is this woman
With sad happy eyes
Strong in a broken sorta way
Who visits me 
On glowing paper
Graces me with kindness
Chooses to ponder herself
Within my spaces
I will seek her out
For she too
Her notes
Sings her spirit
On pure white

Dedicated to Charmaine after she commented on my "I Am" poem.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Details | Kindness Poem | |

The Devil Is In This Tale

Her insecurity would not let her see, I wanted her! I thought she knew, my heart was opened. I should've asked. She walked on a thread, fourteen stories high to cross from her building to mine. The devil at her side, he cut her angel wings, watched her drop, caught her in his wicked trap. She was weak from years of abuse. I heard her yell. "Promise me this, what I sign affects me and only me." The devil answered, "I promise!" No he did not lie. Still for he It was Goodbye. She signed his contract blind. It was me she had dealt for. Afraid to believe. Scared to accept, what she knew, what she felt. Her sense of trust for anyone long ago expired! The man with the black blood ignored me! I felt him; his chill was in the air. Punished to live forever cold. Even his pit of endless fire barely took the edge off. ”My misery of doubt is at an end!" she said. He lowered his head in shame. That too was his curse, he still felt remorse No matter how briefly. She had to have me unconditionally. If only she had known, she already owned me. Her depth and strength impresses me yet I know she could not stop what she had started. She signed in blood, signed to guarantee she would never again be alone, never again be without love! I knew he was at our wedding, I heard the chatter of his teeth. When I said I do it was Lucifer who stood there him who heard my truth. Without changing a thing, his contract he fulfilled. I could only smile. How cold he is, the pain he sustains for the decision he had made, when he left heaven's gate! She hugged him on his way out. I believe now, as I did then, as I always will for a brief moment, his teeth stopped. For just seconds while in her arms he felt warm. I wonder what he thought. Let the celebration begin she owns me, it's off to our room to be alone and in bed. In what we did, we felt as if we were walking innocently along a beach on the Caribbean Sea I am the town she grew up in, her friend her partner, and yes I am her lover. For that her soul she traded. She had her man. My soul she saved, my human form hers, her kindness I return in something I know though still in my youth my card would fall early from the deck. Yes he knew it too my time was short. I have only ten years left. I held my wife all that time, made with her children from paradise! He could not strike a deal in which he did not cheat. He thought, ten years was for him a good deal. The final laugh is mine, with my Angel on my side I strike a deal, trade my soul for my wife’s. The devil acts unattached. I beat him. He'll feel colder now, that's the deal. His warmth he seeks, in any soul he can deceive. Now her soul he'll never have. It is I who wins. I who is eternally damned. In my death my love, a woman of substance knows how dearly I worshiped her, knows her true worth. She will live into her nineties happy in the knowledge she was loved for who she was - we were always one. My Angel through my coffin explains to me no soul is damned, when an act is selfless. My wife and I will meet again! So our story ends, but not before we hear a sound, the echo of teeth that chatter. Chatter louder than ever. It is literally A Cold Day In Hell!
02~12~2014 Sponsor: Justin Bordner Contest Name: Death Shadow

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Kindness Poem | |

I Saw You

I saw you in that toothless smile of the down on his luck stranger when I offered him my juicy pinkish ripe peach left over from my afternoon lunch oh how his smile shined so I saw you in that twinkle in my daughter's eye as I chased her around the park climbing up and down the slides across the wavering bridges through the tubes and tunnels playing a simple game of tag oh how those eyes twinkled with love I saw you in that couple walking on the sandy beach hand in hand under the setting sky the rich hues of yellow, orange, and red floating in the clouds up high oh how their passion radiated I saw you in that first lily of the spring opening up so fresh and new brightening up my garden each tepal trumpeting a treasured song oh how magnificent was it's sight I see you in all that's around in nature's beauty abound in kindness, in love, in angelic faces I see you in all of God's good graces I see you

Copyright © Tim Smith

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Your Heart's Song

You are uniquely you; your words set you apart 
You transform words into works of art
Your gift shines through again and again
Enchantment pours from your soul through your pen

Your stanzas, they unfold into a symphony
Your love and kindness create such harmony
Swaying with the rhythm to the tune of assent
Your life is nicely tranquil and your heart is content

Acceptance is all most of us want and need
And it’s true, being honest sometimes serves to impede
So you hum to yourself within your silent melody
And use only careful words to create your poetry  

But there are times when your voice needs to be heard 
Don’t let anyone tell you your opinions should be deferred 
Somehow we’ve been conditioned to never speak our minds
Sometimes we need to leave those inhibitions behind

Because, in reality, holding back because of fear
Will silence your song, and then no one will hear 
So don’t let hopelessness begin to settle in
Don’t let discouragement win the battle once again

Speak up, when you feel that you have something to say
You can make this world better, in your own special way  
You can make a difference, when you stop trying to hide 
Those thoughts that you’re struggling so hard to keep inside

Opinions can be shared while still conveying love
When we step up, we show others how they too can rise above 
So don’t be afraid to shout when you need to 
Be courageous, and stand up for the ones who need you 

You are already special, now be bold and impressive 
Don’t be afraid to let loose and sing something expressive 
You already have the melody to which you hum along
Now let your voice be heard ~ Time to sing your heart’s song

Copyright © Becca Teagan

Details | Kindness Poem | |

It Is The Scent Of Your Soul

In my arms secure I delicately brush back your hair, Touch your skin almost imperceptibly   Your eyes vanish into mine. I feel miraculously lost in your splendor... but... it is the scent of your soul... In my arms guarded you graze my lips with slender fingers Kiss my body, soothingly knead my shoulders, you inhale my gaze, steal me, lead me to your dominion but... it is the scent of your soul... Fusion of companions luscious in the air Voices that harmonize in the sounds of pleasure Willingly unconscious in a flurry of delight On an adult merry-go-round of fervent assimilation  but... it is the scent of your soul... your beauty unmatched violet colored eyes, sun embraced hair, an unblemished china white complexion, lips that dance in sync with spring, but... it is the scent of your soul... your primal allure unparalleled that bedroom draw that you possess  your fragrant heat that screams a man's desire those womanly parts, a body perfect entices... but... but, still there is no measure. The strength of your kindness, your giving nature, your nurse like instincts, the pure drive of your convictions. I would sacrifice all else nothing matters more... it is the scent of your soul that owns me.
12~10~2014 Sponsor: Anthony Slausen Contest Name: The Scent of Your Soul

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Sharon Weimer

Though we’ve never met 
I comprehend your beautiful words
I feel your pleasant persona
Never a mean word to be said
I ache from your kindness 
Making others feel ten feet tall 
Picking me up when I may fall 
Talent beyond compare 
Are you brunette or fair?
But that wouldn’t matter to me 
If I never had the chance to see you face to face 
Your wonderful personality I could never forget 
You’ve help build a community of friends 
Steady and true
I wish you peaceful skies of cobalt blue 
Fields of flowers brushed in rainbow colors 
I pray for love from God above 
For you and your family beloved 
Know that you touched lives that may not have been touched 
You changed someone 
And brought me a new reason to write 
You’re an inspiration and a friend 
And you’ve touched my heart polite 
Gratitude pours forth  

Written for and about Sharon Weimer !

Copyright © Laura Mckenzie

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Poet Convention 2014

Poet Convention

Lost in a poets convention, 
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'--- 
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears 
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line, 
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years 

Today's Convention, 
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned

I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.  

I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,  
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us, 
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind 
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance

This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style

Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again 
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen 
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects 
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside

I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side 
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement

Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie, 
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly. 
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--  
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."

Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show 
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words

Scribe ML., where are you my friend? 
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!

Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan, 
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words

Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,  
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.

Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M., 
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY 

Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry, 
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community

Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix

Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M. 
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.

Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget

Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.

Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you, 
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.

Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't.... 
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong

Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best 
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships

Before I forget, 
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:) 
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"

As you know my kindness is my weakness 
Now it's time to be strong and move on 
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup

The Poet Destroyer

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Mother is Dove

Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.

Black woman proud woman
Your pride is not haughty
But a humble pride of eaglets;
Your black eyes are so glittering
As the eyes of our dark rivers
Filled with messages of peace
That banish the broody turmoil
From those panting hearts
Of your foreigned offsprings.

Gentle mother diligent mother
Your kindness kindles the fires
Of my heart –
Your dexterity dresses
The table of our ageless history
And the thought of your being
– Oh kind mother! –
Makes the most delicious menu 
For my heart.

I remember your naked feet
Fast and fair as a pigeon’s limbs
Treading the invisible paths
Almost covered by shrubs
Small shrubs misted by the prime mist.

I remember the wood from the wood 
The water from the water 
And manifold items from jungle alleys 
Borne by your delicate hands
And upon your soft black-haired head.

I remember the constant match 
To markets and to farms
And your bright face smeared with 
The ash dust
Making you more beautiful
Than any woman whose feet
Ever touched the naked earth.

I remember those burdens
Upon your cheerful kin-souls 
And babies strapped to your backs
Babes full of unspoken words
To unborn others in patient wombs
Waiting in an endless turn –
Indeed, mother is dove!
A black dove and a dark huntress
A hunter’s gift from the maker?

Mother is like a weaver-bird
Building a big foot-like nest
Filled with corn and warmth
A bundle of eagle-flight
Mother is dove
And the hunter calls her
The clan’s eternal dove.

Oh, mother loving woman 
Gentle as our black horizon
To you we humbly come
From these far and lonely lands
Hoping to grace our love and beauty
Before that jealous grave
Makes her temporary feast.

Copyright © Canny Amah

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Smile Of A Thousand Songs

A spirit is what it is,
sharing yet selfish, starving yet sated,
a humble sky that can erupt into a hurricane,
can be an avalanche on the mountain of confidence,
it will be a maternal calm in a moment of marbled mania,
or shatter the laughter of happiness with the pompous scorn of suspicion,

This element of unapologetic adrenaline is magnetic,
tickles our tastes like a feather of silky sweetness,
shapes the clay of a body's cunning with lust lost in a thirsty lick,
bestows bravery on Jealousy and can make a fool of Devotion,
Destiny is the web of it's dance, Fate the funeral of it's expectations,

Designs dreams and shares tears with Death,
weddings and wars, crimes and kindness are famiar family,
Joy, the breakfast of it's youth,
Determination, the dragon of it's desire,
walks like weather too cool for sunshine
breathes like butter burnin in a salty simmer,
the only force known
to be capable of creation and destruction with equal ease,
Love is the name, Life is the game,
cinnamon on the breath of suspense -


Copyright © Justin Bordner

Details | Kindness Poem | |


this is the hour resting on the basin of a sacred chalice awakened by crowns of stars peeping then, swelling blue yellow... this is the hour, the hour of dusk filtering the shape of a world kneeling on wooden pews and candles; the winds touching the valley that knows this is the hour… when the homage of many an outstretched arms surrender to the blazing wisps of a godly dawn, of a late twilight's hour as this is the hour, lightened by stroked peace till the vessel of light drifts along rivers, and earthen clay, shadow to light ,light to shadow reaching the final call as on this the hour, a scented air bestows chaste stillness… this is the hour for the gentle lamb of holiness to pass through an arched moment while kindness of eyes bows unto this hour. Verlena Walker's Holy Is The Lamb 10/4/2014

Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Wind Rider

An old man sits peacefully in deep thought
Missing teeth, milky eyes . . .  leathery skin
Wind Rider his name  – a shaman 

The young man seethes in anger
Strong, excitable . . . limbs in constant motion 
Standing Bear his name  – dangerous and violent 

Smoke curls lightly into the sky
A sacred moment upon the plain
Old to the young – a story

The soft voice rises . . .  catches the wind 
There is a battle that rages within each of us
. . .  two wolfs circle each other

One is evil . . .  it’s spirit is angry filled with
jealousy, sorrow, greed, arrogance, guilt
resentment, inferiority, lies . . .  ego

The other wolf is good --- it’s spirit is filled with
joy, peace love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy
generosity, truth, compassion . . .  faith

Each wolf is strong and howls into the night wind 
Yellow-red eyes flair, deep throated-growls, bared fangs
Breathing hard they attack

Wind Rider lifts his heavy head
Feels the sun . . .     waits

Standing Bear thinking  . . .  finally asks
Who will win?

Wind Rider smiles 
The one you feed

       \ /
       / \

David Meade
Live Generously

Copyright © David Meade

Details | Kindness Poem | |

One Year Ago

Well, it has been one year since I joined Poetry Soup.
I smile now, because I have met this wonderfully diverse group.

August 7th, 2013 was a day that would change my life.
I finally found the place where I could express my cares and strife.

I know that I say this often, and yet it is still not enough.
Thank you all for bringing me happiness on days that were rough.

To Linda, The "Poet Destroyer" and her sister SKAT.
You both welcomed me warmly and I will never forget that.

To Chan Hurst, who is much more than "Just That Archaic Poet".
We will always be friends to the end, and you know it.

To Nature Boy, .... well ..... what more can I say?
You have helped and inspired me to blossom in every way.

To Gail Angel Doyle, Debbie Duncan, Cheryl Dunn, and Michael Clarke.
Thank you for knowing that good things can come from the dark.

To John "Jake" Posey, who mentioned Poetry Soup while on another site.
You were actually the first person to tell me that I could write.

To Isaiah Zerbst, with whom my first collaboration would be.
Thank you so much for seeing the poetic potential in me.

To Mustapha Mohammed, a true "partner-in-rhyme".
Thank you for allowing my poetry to take up some of your time.

To Peter and Vera Duggan, Liam McDaid and Carolyn D.
Your kindness and friendship always meant so much to me.

To Bindu Vijayan, Johnny Rhinem, Yasmin Khan and Becca L.
Thank you for truly understanding my words so well.

To Andrea Dietrich, Nette Onclaud, Debbie Guzzi and Giorgio A.V.
I truly appreciate the encouragement that you've given to me.

To F.J. Thomas, Mystic Rose, Richard L., and Anne-Lise A.
Meeting kind-hearted people like you has made me want to stay.

To Thomas Simunsen, Karen Anglesey, Dr, Ram Mehta and Drake E.
I think you have read almost every poem ever written by me.

To Matthew Anish, Charmaine C., Shadow H., and Dave Wood.
Thank you for making me smile more than anyone ever could.

To Robin Davis, Danesh Morgan, Roger H., Litan D., and Sara K.
I appreciate all of you visiting me nearly every single day.

To Christopher Thor Britt, Carrie C., Justin Bordner, and Craig C.
None of your written words have ever failed to inspire me.

To Casarah N., Robert Lindley, Paul Callus and Arthur V.
Thank you all for just being so friendly to me.

We all share a common passion through the writing of a poem.
I am so lucky to have found a place that feels like home.

There are many friends that I have met along the way.
So, thank you all for brightening up the last 365 days.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Kindness Poem | |


as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear!

being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees
means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on sleaze).
if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies,
WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees.

yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!)
for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves,
and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves,
thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves.

though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more,
peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door,
still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score
else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore.

when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too
for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo!
soon OUR fortunes  redouble, rebound and accrue –
since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu.

’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues
or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!),
they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues
... while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues.

whether heros or hoboes, like spiders and lice
they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise,
but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice,
spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price).

if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault,
are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt,
or retarded or helpless, it’s all their own fault – 
just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt!

protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty
some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty.
they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty)
impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI.

if they’ve got clashing colors  (or shades in between)
or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen, 
well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen,
for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene?

WE promote many methods to keep ’em in chains –
daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns
“to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains,
“you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”.

OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball
(they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol,
and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) –
if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all.

down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone 
– WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone –
since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone
(while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne).

politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore,
attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore
how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) –
well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war!

ah! OUR wars are.... well, just...... just a thing of the past
........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last!
if they frown as they gaze (armageddon!) aghast,
then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed.

useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad),
leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!).
WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad
if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad.

as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain,
they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain
if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane –
for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain.

yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace,
keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace.   
but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace –
for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face.

WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST,
and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed –
WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust 
and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must).

but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE
and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye.
since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply,
they must feast on the crumbs that may fall from the sky.

though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt,
yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt –
salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?)
thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt.

yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus)
’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss?
all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus),
to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust).

while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools
(being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools),
the ol’ school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”,
building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’.

and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail)
WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail
(civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!)
and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail!

WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown
(like deciding design and decor of OUR thrones...
whether diamonds or rubies... to ivory WE’re prone) –
when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em some bones.

now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails,
– like preparing foreclosures, evictions  and sales –
but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails,
’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales
(with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails)
sipping daiquiri sours, champagne, ginger ales...

Copyright © Terry O'Leary

Details | Kindness Poem | |

Always and Forever Happy Mother's Day

A gentle caring feeling grows with age 
always precious heart of gold each and every year 

Sings in your love undying devotion holds Heaven on wings 
golden treasure the sun shining deep warmness 

An angel inside a breath of unconditional kindness 
within my mothers voice loving you true forever one song rings

Copyright © liam mcdaid