Best Empathic Poems
“My tears are testimony of my devotion to Beloved;
and from those tears white lilies will grow that speak the truth.”
Rumi
I had heard the legend of her tears,
silent drops of sorrow liberating her pain,
flowing upon the tip of her voiceless lips.
Her hopes descending like blossom buds,
drowning in ripples of rampant tides,
dragging her deeper into despair,
as her words suffocated among ignorant waves.
Trials of life had infected her mind,
with a melody of melancholic vapours,
setting her adrift in misplaced uncharted waters.
Immersing further, her cries no longer echoed,
as her heart choked upon confined consciousness.
Upon the depths of concussed misconception,
under electric, earthquake, haunting horizons,
her soul lay in slumber deluded by misjudgement.
Confused between regret and remorse,
trapped within the dilemma of circumstance,
her fears set sail upon satanic seas,
but only crawled into solitary seclusion -
forming eggshell foundations.
I was no hero nor did I have a halo,
but I was born to become a martyr,
in the glory of her martyrdom,
so I unpacked my heart,
ready for the final crusade of my life.
Treading upon a path of cracked glass,
decaying with crumbling concrete,
I wandered towards her speechless screams.
Preparing to feel the personification of her pain.
Empathic nature of my spirit yearned to
rescue her from the illusions of a fathomless abyss,
to release her from her internal crucifixion -
hoping we would merge like ocean and shore.
As I reached the darkness of her door,
like a star falling from heaven,
her truth like stardust, softly sprinkled,
flourishing and nourishing through me.
I placed my heart into her hands,
as light faded out the blackness,
like an abundance of kaleidoscopic petals,
her tears now illuminated like a rainbow.
Overwhelmed in this tranquillity,
shimmering reflections of emotions,
like gentle rain cascading from my soul,
I became tearful as they nurtured my heart's garden.
I remain intoxicated in their enchantment,
kissing her sorrows away for eternity.
Categories:
empathic, appreciation, love,
Form:
Epic
When we search for answers from egotistic minds,
life is full of meaningless questions that lead us nowhere.
You sabotaged the sandman who brought me my dreams,
corrupting and confusing the clarity of my conscience.
In a world of betrayal, I thought you were my
saviour,
but your promises were sworn from a throne of lies -
where you perch as the king of false pretences.
Tired from being a victim of your insecurities,
I am not your mistake nor your abandoned
trauma.
Fate led my empathic sanity into your labyrinth of splintered hollowness,
confining me within a soulless sphere of unfair
madness,
yet, I still remember how you pledged to show me the moon -
falsehoods which led to an eternal eclipse for my eyes.
You stole the silver sewn with perfectly metered syllables,
calming the storm I carry in cacophonous silence,
but now, all I see is a megalomaniac monster, draped in rose tones of synthetic rhodolite, pretending to be an ivory dove in a horizon of vicious vultures,
hiding behind a decaying province of black petunias.
Your synthetic smile veils your cruel character, afraid that the vermilion you paint across your
sunsets,
will reveal the poison you fed my paralyzed soul.
My ink will always portray your true parasite persona,
about your attempts to assassinate my authentic aroma,
as now i blossom in meadows without your
toxic touch.
Categories:
empathic, abuse, angst, anxiety, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
The ignorant ones claim,
I'm full of petty problems,
a slave to the darkness,
but if only they had seen
how I've slaughtered
malicious demonic sea creatures
that slithered along my spine,
undisturbed nor provoked.
You are the singing sunrise
to my sultry sunset,
weaving silver sonnets
from beige ballads
seducing my spirit
into sweet slumber—
igniting nocturnal
Novembers with
crimson showers
upon sepia stems,
because It's no longer
the climatic chaos I fear,
it's the calm you've crafted,
continuing to be
my constant comfort.
Your devotion adds
color and clarity in my once
monochrome existence,
as you've polished
the dimmed stars in my eyes,
they now glitter like
shimmering fireflies,
a reincarnation
of the strength
from Freyja's tears,
after you kissed them
with your silken soft sagas.
When the days begin
to dawn upon dreary dusks
you've aromatized my
universe with summer scents.
Thor's thunder could
not demolish our
kind of spring as
our celestial spirits
float around the nine realms.
A part of you will
forever rhyme as
clusters of couplets
fated to be,
the rest of you flow
like simple stanzas
of empathic free verse.
As my story will make
Odin ashamed, and
Fenrir cry, so when all
the beauty of butterflies
congest my throat,
preventing me from
pouring dreams of
stardusts upon
your selfless quill…
always remember us
for the times we swayed
and enclasped into
our own silhouette,
running from the
stormy disarray of society’s
serpentines,
swimming in Satanic
sapphire seas.
Whilst the debt I owe
for your generosity will drown
me in endless poetry,
floating on metaphors
without blueprints,
keeping the vampires
from Beelzebub's door,
releasing me from the
chains of uncertainty …forevermore.
Categories:
empathic, feelings, miss you, myth,
Form:
Free verse
L o v e, a withering star ~
awakened amidst silence
that swirls through the night sky
like fairy lights,
i l l u m i n a t i n g
the maze of midnight
with kaleidoscopic traces
of what once soared…
But in the chasm of loss and agony,
I found the gossamer essence of hope
from the
glass-winged arms of metamorphosis…
Now I breathe you, organza moonlight,
e c l i p s e d by crimson claws
of condescending constellations,
while faith sleeps within the pale husk
of mythical mists,
drinking pomegranate ambrosia,
from the rose-gold horn
of Persephone’s throne,
as black-magic thickets thrive from
the cursed lips of tendrils ~
harvesting pain,
rustling through the vineyard
of violet orchids
amidst this heart that sings of
evergreen springs,
etched with sins and tears
onto catacomb cellars of wickedness…
Listen to your heartbeat,
there, in the mirroring cadence
of soft-spoken rhymes,
I live and reside ~
wandering through the hallways;
an asylum of metaphors
turning wraiths of words
into wisterias,
whirling in the whimsical wind,
a castle of alliterative archives
emanating empathic embers
that burned capricious chords
to carve calligraphic clemency
with Cleopatra’s gold
seized from the Egyptian deserts…
But it is through the
satanic soul of kohl seas
I found the bluest streak of bliss ~
my Felix Culpa,
sprinkling firefly dust from afar ~
I see you, awaiting the return
of butterflies…
For you and I,
we found L o v e,
inhaling poetic promises,
exhaling toxic tercets ~
with syllables of stressed desire,
you showed me rainbows of sage,
taught me the rhythm of truth,
to silence the thunder
that roars in rage
within the fragile psyche of life,
and in your presence,
I loved and learned ~
to curate colors
from
the ethereal
dreamscape of d u s k…
Categories:
empathic, blessing, devotion,
Form:
Free verse
In times of darkness,
When time is like raging seas,
my mum Is the lighthouse,
illuminating the skies,
guiding me to the shore.
There is an art to motherhood.
A paradise on earth,
with blessings of a priceless prayer.
Anyone can give birth,
but not everyone can be a mother,
I have written so many March musings,
simmering scribbles with alliterative metaphors,
but my mamma is the poem of my soul.
When the Devil would trick with his wicked games,
her angelic voice would bring clarity.
Reminding me that twisted thoughts will
only lead to a maze of uncertainty.
Each time death knocked at my door,
Her empathic energy would ease my pain.
Always told me if I didn't appreciate inner beauty;
the red of a rose would kill my soul.
How I'll be forever collecting thorns,
so I planted an abundance of flowers,
in kaleidoscopic colours, ensuring
Spring smells were soothing.
I remember when burdens became too heavy,
swift changes of life brought only sorrow,
grey clouds followed my every move
with black skies full of soulless stars.
There was a spring with deadly roses,
and countless colourless flowers.
I wondered if my heart would bloom this spring.
you were the perfect remedy,
like the mercy of rain upon petals,
who gave warmth after a cold night.
Words lost in a hustle and bustle of silence,
bloomed like lilacs and daffodils,
kissed by the sweetness of morning dew,
as colourful clouds in clementine hues,
greeted the sun in sapphire skies.
I always have regurgitating regrets,
when being strong, I never express enough,
how no woman alive could ever take your place.
In a world where love can be a hallucination,
people lose their affection,
let them change,
but you always stay the same.
Categories:
empathic, mother, mother son, mothers
Form:
Free verse
"Although I'm familiar with the art of poetry,
no one has inspired my muse
to inscribe my own journal. -
so I placed my soul in her hands." Silent One
I used to be a journal,
daily dips of ink dripped
deep into my dilapidated soul.
Supporting sorrows of the one
who wrote with endeavour,
'letting go,' of the blackness,
infested within her veins.
Endless chapters of vents,
tears, fears and misery,
bleeding from ruptured arteries,
etched upon the fresh fibres
of a canvas of compassion.
In times of fantasy,
I was a field full of her
supressed wildflowers.
In reality, I was her diary
of deep, destructive desires.
Now her pen rests,
with a sharp nib pointing at me.
Like a shield, preventing
her ink to reveal the
truths behind metaphors.
I'm an anthology of her emotions,
wondering how the next chapter
will be written - is there more to confess?
But in her mute melancholy,
I can think of reasons to express,
but many more to remain inkless.
Yet no other 'ink-toxication' can fill this void -
I'LL FOREVER REMAIN WORTHLESS
as what purpose do I have
without her words perpetually
nourishing my empathic existence.
In this slumber, I collect dust,
feeling bare, but in her rejection -
hungering for her verses to soothe.
Categories:
empathic, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
In the pantomime of pretend prose,
the moon dances on lonely nights.
Before the lights go out at twilight,
unforgiven ice cold hearts,
remain abandoned, hoping this is the end.
Her eyes like Eve were deceived,
by manipulative sea green serpents.
Stranded on shores where time has no name,
the artistry of dread, breathed in poetic chills,
inhaling life, exhaling pain like dolent daisies.
Concealing metaphors of dying embers,
behind an avalanche of emotions,
she anticipated the rebirth of an artist,
by an art nearing the opposite side of yearnings,
because in the deepest chasm of poetic love,
an alliteration of antithesis attracts affection.
I was not as naive as Adam,
searching for heartbeats from heaven,
knowing that is how you ruin a poet.
An empathic spirit ignites pens full of fire,
burning the strings of poetic puppets -
the greatest gift of entrancement.
Rumi taught me the universe is infinite,
and so am I, so I knew I would meet my muse,
like stars greet the moon in a meadow of miracles.
As roaming romance conjured my dream's horizon.
Her name always echoed in the silence of quiet nights.
An empress without an emperor in a crumbling palace,
yearning to blossom in an epodic flower field.
Her seldom smile was as radiant as the golden orb.
Despite ghosts hiding in the shadow of sunlight,
mystical silver spirits were summoning me to her abode.
Her misspelt phrases accidentally fell on my page.
I found her burying her frozen quill under six feet of snow,
with a withered heart reliving a winter wonder nightmare,
constantly bleeding pearls in a silage of tears,
cursing her tormented tongue.
Her winter kisses were as tender as butterfly snowflakes,
but at first, her rage slashed at my wrists,
drowning me in her obsidian grieving seas,
but my soul is like a seasoned samurai full of scars.
I always believed small steps lead to great places,
and I would kiss her sorrows goodbye.
Upon realisation there's no blood in my veins, only poetry,
together we portrayed pastel coloured sunsets,
illuminating a celestial canopy of light,
sowing trees of forgiveness,
surrounded by colourful petals,
leaving behind the dark long road home.
In our internal garden of Eden,
there is no darkness,
there is no forbidden fruit nor sinning,
only an aura of love personified.
Categories:
empathic, analogy, love, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Her heart was
whirling,
swirling,
twirling
inside the eye
of a
whirlwind,
so I
weaved words
to calm her rage,
because,
like an empathic eagle,
a poet is a
storm chaser,
unafraid of
human hurricanes.
A wordsmith word weaves
against windstorms,
decorating nebulous skies
with rainbow bridges,
kissing the warm balmy
neon glow of the sun,
softly soothing,
vivid vexations
through
intimate intrinsic artistry,
because,
a cloudless day
is a bandage wrapped...
Too tight.
Only a bard can
affectionately alliterate
the grip of grief,
as poetry can be the cure
to calm tempested trauma.
Ink is the mistress
to butterfly sentiments.
I will not stop the moths
from devouring you,
as long as they feed
on toxic thoughts.
I have made a home on the moon,
where stardust scribbles carry us to freedom.
Categories:
empathic, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Moments pass away as distant church bells dirge;
their widow’s woe in windy waver trembles my tears.
Up the westward hill smoldering neath sunset’s pyre, I carry
the remains of our song in the broken beats of my being, yearning
to yield to burning skies and surrender to spiralling empathic embers.
Susan Ashley
May 24, 2019
~ First Place ~
Contest: May Premier 8 (4 - 5 Lines Max)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
empathic, bereavement, death, heartbroken, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Today, I spent some time alone
to settle down into my bones.
I nestled deep in songs at last,
soothed by the choir of loved ones passed.
Forgotten was the ache of loss,
I meditated on the cross.
My mind was clear of lists and worries.
My soul at peace was in no hurry.
I synchronized breaths with the breeze
and God’s empathic voice with ease.
I never uttered words of prayer,
just listened, in my silence bare.
Oh, how the world washes away
our innocence to love and play!
Our spirits fraught long to seek God,
Heaven’s envoy in His ballade.
Today, I spent some time alone
to feel my soul set free from bone.
Categories:
empathic, faith, introspection, spiritual,
Form:
Couplet
The weighty hand of Death crushes the core of your being,
sending a shiver, slithering up your spine like a cold chill.
And an empathic moon silently slips away,
as darkness conceals the tears pooling in your eyes.
Your heart is numb; you feel nothing:
there is no anger, no hate, no feeling at all:
just an all-consuming emptiness,
where your heart should be.
Abandoned to your worst nightmare:
life has lost its meaning; it just is.
Death has reduced your heart to a hollowed-out
shell, that's falling apart, piece by piece.
Love receded into memory's maze
of bittersweet moments and forever dreams.
And acid tears burn your cheeks like rivers of fire;
corrosive enough to dissolve hope and tarnish your soul.
Crumbling into a fetal position, you hug your knees
and rhythmically rock back and forth;
teetering on the edge of despair.
Your soulmate died, leaving a gaping hole in your heart:
that time will never be able to fill.
Your breathing is erratic as panic wrestles for control:
but you fight back, slowly regaining your faculties.
Yet, your heart harbors pain,
and the tears spontaneously flow once again.
You can't see how you'll continue your life:
there are no more tomorrows to share, only yesterdays to recall.
And you've never felt so helpless and vulnerable:
a part of you died; now grief consumes the rest.
Categories:
empathic, angst, anxiety, betrayal, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
All songs a poet can sing,
All masks a poet can wear,
All seasons a poet can live,
And all wars a poet can fight.
Colorless is the mask of a poet.
Nationless is a true poet.
All borders, a true poet will cross;
For mankind and the ecosystem, poets shall defend.
Poets poet their poems for you and me;
They are humans like all of us.
The same sunlight, we sunbathe,
And we marinade the same rain.
True empathic and sympathetic, poets are;
My language, they speak; yours and theirs, they speak too.
Mother nature’s language, they better master and utter,
Because she taught them how to speak the natural language.
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
Categories:
empathic, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
Wow—is the word!
You are something most surprising
I can feel you boiling in my blood
Waiting, trusting in that torrent
Of psychic union and revelation
You lock eyes with me—
They are blue, love-stricken, wild
I am pleasantly frightened
And comforted all at once!
Somewhere in your stare
You have managed to caress my soul
You have masterfully,
Grabbed hold…
Of all that is me—
This red force of obduration
This imprisoned fool I am…
Fretting at every given moment
In my vulnerability - how is it?
How is it that you know,
That you know our future is strong?
You just know,
This fiery….greed,
These flaws that shame me
Somehow you know this fear in me!
And everything you know,
You will see
You will acceptingly see
You first doused me with glittery lust
Steam and gleam in your keen pupils
In your gaping lips,
In your smooth-trodden truths,
I weaken in your words
You flow me out of my element,
As you pin me to the bed of dreams
You are an opulent ocean
Deep depths I know not!
I am merely a sliver of light
Becoming something solid in your grasp
Crystalline nerves melting in your knowing hands
Where is your surrender?
You ask me, in silence
I am your ball of glowing fervor
About to burst in your psychedelic waves
You are turning and turning
You are feeling me
You are feeling all my feelings!
That I try so desperately to conceal
Dissatisfaction and longing you recognize
In my volcanic hindrance
Your waters heave patience
You calm—you tear up
My fears hold me back,
And you want me to free them
This struggle is our beauty—
Is part of our art
And in you, in your rest
You salvage all the love we can muster
You remember all our moments
Fueling your empathic currents
Holding me close to your heaving tides
In a heartfelt flood of understanding
Categories:
empathic, confusion, deep, desire, faith,
Form:
Ode
Heaven ...
I have imagined a wondrous place
a realm of joy and peace and comfort, eternal
where those we've lost
gather us to their care and fellowship
in a purview of empathic resonance and mirth
where light finds every corner
and warmth embraces our hearts and marrow
where pain and struggle and sorrow
are no longer even a memory
but silent seeds for a garden of blessings
and vessels filled with the breadth of life, anew
where we no longer trouble ourselves
with the restrictions of the flesh
or the concerns of individuality and introspection
but exist in a glorious state of oneness with the Universe
and mutual assimilation of spirituality
amidst the glory of God's providence around us.
But ...
it is JUST that ... an imagination
for I can not know what awaits me
on the OTHER side ...
still, in reality, I DO know what Heaven is ...
it is the life I have NOW -
it is to sing and dream and experience nature
it is to love and feel and wonder ...
it is to know the breath of a summer breeze, and the touch of a lover ...
it is to see the sparkle of spirit in a pet's gaze ...
it is to command the voice of an instrument
or weave words into verse ...
it is to ache with the longing for a soulmate ...
it is to touch and taste and become ...
it is to dance with the rain, or tunnel toes in the sand ...
it is to squeeze the hand of a loved one as they let go their suffering ...
it is to feel the burn of bright sun on my cheek
or discover exquisite beauty in the deepest darkness ...
it is to hold a hummingbird on my finger
or watch a winter moon glisten on the snow
it is to know the blessing of a sacrifice
and the weight of a weary brow ...
it is to birth a giggle
or kiss away a tear ...
but mostly, Heaven is truly THIS:
to hold my beloved children in my arms ...
and weep with unimaginable JOY!
~ 4th Place ~ in the "Heaven" Poetry Contest, Regina Riddle, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
empathic, heaven,
Form:
Free verse
A Animals other than my kind are
B Beautiful, loving souls; empathic to their
C Core and full of absolute
D Devotion
E Expressed compassionately, to their
F Family members.
G Generous to a fault are their hearts and souls;
H Holding no malice for wrong deeds done to them, they
I Insist on being there strictly for you.
J Just revel in the delight and warmth;
K Kick back and let them give their
L Love.
M Mutts, cats, birds or even rats have affection,
N None are exempt from God’s love.
O One moment spent with a loving pet is so
P Precious; the rewards of such
Q Quality time with omniscient love
R Reduces
S Stress causing you to
T Transcend this mortal realm.
U Ultimate happiness is a pet;
V Vanquishing all tension and tears of the day.
W Walk your dog, play with your cat, they can help
X Xenophobia, depression and anxiety and
Y You can live with
Z Zest, once again.
2-12-2020
ABECEDARIAN CONTEST Poetry Contest
Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
empathic, animal, nature, pets, poems,
Form:
Abecedarian