Best Empathise Poems
Blessed in abundance that manifests in our
stressed daily interaction with our fellow man, and the sincerest
form of our inner wellbeing is the outpour of laughter.
Dormant in the face of adversity, while we empathise with
modern populace at large and try to bring some
modicum of humanity and relief of the pain.
We’d all experience this from time to time and this is
seed of essence in our reality that is forever fraught.
Felled by ulterior motives – punished like Sisyphus by our
fellow peers – as the dulcet tones of compliments, the sweetest
wrung encouragement that soothed our souls like songs
sung at our cradle; the melodies now forgotten. They are
symbols indelibly edged into our subconscious and those
cymbals that tend to want to drown us out so that
we spin in the vortex, but vector us towards the stories to tell.
Be it to explain the tumultuous emotions raging beneath the surface of
our designer exterior – this is by far the saddest
hour and we, eventually, rather opt for the dilatory thought.
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Percy Bysshe Shelly – To a Skylark
As along our long life journey we sail
We all do encounter belied expectations
Feeling of deep hurt results from betrayal
Our shrivelled heart writhing in contractions
The hurt needs healing so we go to a healer
Who examines blotches in our aura field
Looking grave is this wheeler dealer
As his magic wand he does wield
Half who visit healed, the others not
For he simply invokes the placebo effect
Opening up our mind beyond its fearful slots
The faith healer does nothing yet no one suspects
With this comic interlude over with let us examine
The root cause of our pain needing healing
We negate not potency of toxic poison
Simply look at origin of so feeling
The aspect of us hurt is our identity
Plunged into dark gloom owing to its loss
Recognising not that in world of ephemerality
Attachment to fleeting images of pain is the cause
In monk mode detached thus free from pain and sorrow
Lower mind vaporised, we abide in blissful joy
No expectations or desires for the morrow
Mind illumined we recognise ego ploys
Acceptance of others just as they are
Knowing that maya oft causes misalignment
Acts of others be as they may leaves then no scar
We empathise with one and all resting in blissful contentment
We then are our own best faith healer having faith in love divine
Offering no niche within for rancour to anchor onto our being
Knowing that in timeless time with love all souls will align
We nonchalantly breeze through life ever celebrating
29-November-2020
The only soup, which blends the flavors from every nook of the world.
I too am an ingredient and I feel proud.
Not a pro, still today I count my writes.
I thankyou all for this wonderful platform:)
To my surprise,
No family member ever admires,
What I write and how I describe.
Neither I am an English student.
Nor am I a professional versifier.
Nah! I don’t even know the genre and type.
It is just Poetry Soup, which strives to hone,
My every thought, expression and song!
Every time I open to see how many views, how many likes.
I feel glad when my mentors cherish and recognise!
Yes, they are always by my side!
It’s not for fun that I write,
Poetry teaches me how to appreciate and empathise.
Let’s me share my laughs and hide my cries!
Helps to express during lows and highs!
Feel and sense the unseen,
Gather courage to express and mean,
From vocabulary to character, poetry adds a beautiful sheen.
Quotes…Stories….Blog…..Poetry; choose as per your forte!
A beautiful fragrant bouquet.
An ambiance which positively motivates.
Poetry soup deserves encomiums and accolades.
Shower of autumn leaves and acorns,
And rustling sound as I stroll.
Those mesmerising bubbles all-round,
As I dive in the pool.
And also, when, looking into his eyes,
Silently, I can walk thousand miles.
Yes! This is the poetry to me.
The power to see the unseen!
A lady dressed in pink, in my sight.
With complementing accessory soaked in glittery white.
And my heart fondly admires,
Wow! That blushing pink charmer!
Just like an innocent pearl in an oyster.
Adorning beautiful pearl in white,
Gracefully gleaming bright!
And also, when I see those young, tanned lads,
Completely soaked in mud.
And, scaring me, with their thud.
Then, smiling broadly to show their set of teeth.
Oh! I love them, they are all sweet!
Yes! This is the poetry to me.
It definitely beautifies my thoughts!
When I see my friend upset.
Without even a word, I know his mindset.
Slipping quietly my hand on her hand.
I can feel her with my inner strength.
Yes! This is the poetry to me.
It teaches me to empathise.
When I am low
Poetry raises me back, to glow!
When my confidence begins to retire.
Poetry gives me the strength to fight like fire!
Yes! This is the poetry to me.
Always by my side to support me.
Poetry hones in me, a better orator,
As it makes me, a better expresser.
Yes! It helps me to build my character.
My poetry is me!
23/2/19
Sponsor: Silent One
Contest Name: Poetry and ME
An entity of beauty the essence of my kind
I respond with beats and thoroughly empathise.
Love and faith, food for my soul
ablaze with intense fire is my whole.
Distinctive scents trace my sprightly steps
exultant roses recognized in depths.
Tough and thorny is my very land
my heart touched by the divine God's Hand.
With wondrous souls my words amaze
their light on my path of life I appraise.
Myself, my heart, human defined
to win a soul I pick the gems I find.
Nameless, undefined what is hidden inside
carefully concealed from a flaming mind.
Fate walks off with one precious jewel
a mysterious strength arises ready to rule.
A woman on a journey of intuitive capability
dips her pen into the world of words to honour Humanity.
August 1st, 2018
Think I need a husband
Perhaps you empathise
A miracle may happen…
The sun each day will rise.
Dreams and wishes do come true;
One day they will for me
Wish I had a husband now
To make a pot of tea.
I think I need a husband
To rock me off to sleep
I think I need a husband
And one which I can keep.
I think I need a husband
may buy him from a shop
I’d like to have a husband;
One which will not flop.
You know now what I’m thinking
For words I here do write
Be great to have a husband
For everyday and night!
From sky he may come falling;
May have a little crash
Then he’d know he’d need a wife-
To bandaid up his gash.
Bring me a cup of Java, honey, and put some coffee in the water, will you?...
Whoa there! Bet you can feel the withering sarcasm in that simple phrase...
People, I welcome you to the world of crime novels by James Hadley Chase...
With cryptic titles like I'll Bury My Dead, it's a crime novel befitting even the dead...
The protagonists in every novel, Mr Chase humanized each of them in good stead...
As a crime writer, Mr Chase has no master, or even an equal of his calibre...
Dialogues, suave and cultured or in the low life lingo, is excellence beyond compare...
Most of all, the many believable twists and turns in every one of his crime story...
You'll empathise with the hero and the heroine, and root for them in each story...
What Is Better Than Money is yet another master yarn uniquely spun by Mr Chase...
About how a piano player bidding time tangled with a junky beauty with trilling vocals ....
It is amazing how you will identify with the struggling two bit piano player as he grapples...
With the opportunity of a lifetime to hitch his economic wagon on a less than perfect starlet..
In No Orchids For Miss Blandish, I remember rereading the same book twice over...
To be thrilled and to savour how the master story teller spun the story altogether...
Mind you, I was back then just a little boy, given access to the senior section of the library..
Faced with rows and decks of all kind of books, I was a bewildered boy lost in the library...
Then I spied a rather worn out hard cover book entitled No Orchids for Miss Blandish...
Small in print, yellowed in pages and looked slightly misbegotten, but the title intrigued..
Reaching home, I could not put down the book once I started reading that slim book...
I was thrilled, I was truly engrossed in a fascinating tale of crime found within a book...
Etched in my memory to this day, I recall vividly the awe and the joy in novels by Mr Chase...
Little wonder through the years I often read and reread crime novels spun by Mr Chase...
James Hadley Chase, crime story teller supreme, without any cheap graphic x rated scenes...
He is the ultimate maestro for story characters and crime tales that electrify your senses...
Readers, Mr James Hadley Chase, he's The Man for grippping realistic crime stories....!!!
Painting pictures with your words,
Will you slay them with your tune,
Can you make them sing your melodies
To their unforgiving moon
Will you watch them leave their seats
Dancing solo on the floor,
Bid farewell unto the heartache
They keep behind their quiet door
Can you take them from their darkness
Share with them your star-filled night
Can you gift them sacred memories
That live long beyond tonight
Can you show them they are beautiful
Will your words be filled with grace
Do you understand the sorrow of
Those who feel they're out of place
Will you break through to the sadness
Could you empathise the plight
Of the lonely who then only
Fade away into their night
See I was once a songwriter
Broken just like you
As the eyes of blind indifference
Made me feel wretched and blue
I'll take my pen, and write again...
Dance on....
Through seventy years of change,
Orb and sceptre in your hands,
Serving your people, young and old,
You have reigned over these lands.
To duty called when you were young,
You took the oath in Edwards chair.
The crown sits well upon that head
That doth its precious weight still bear.
A beacon to your people,
To all your commonwealth,
You show us what devotion means
To something beyond self.
Prime ministers and presidents
Have graced your royal court
Charities from every sphere
Your patronage have sought.
A mother and a grandmother,
A loyal and loving wife.
A Queen with whom the nation
Shared the milestones of your life.
You could not give us any more,
You’re an example to us all.
Of the meaning of self sacrifice
That answer”s duty’s call.
You too have suffered pain and loss,
Part of life’s kaleidoscope.
You empathise, you sympathise,
You bring a nation hope.
You’ve led us in remembrance
At war’s sad and bitter loss,
You’ve shed tears at the cenotaph,
For the fallen and the lost.
You truly are respected
By every generation,
For standing by your people,
For fulfilling your vocation.
Not for ourselves alone are we
Born to this life we’re given
You’ve shown us what can be achieved
If we too are truly driven.
You”re our pride and our identity
Loved and held in great respect.
History will remember you
As our beloved “Lillibet.”
We celebrate these seventy years,
Your Platinum Jubilee.
And I, for one, am glad to be,
A subject of your majesty.
Cripple
Nature made me incomplete
She failed to give me two good feet
The left one’s fine,
It’s well in line
But the other is rather bittersweet
It twists around to a great degree
A much disgruntled employee
Of a brain as quick
as a lightning stick
But useless just below the knee.
A childhood spent in pain and traction
And futile physiotherapeutic action
Didn’t help a jot
just hurt a lot
To the surgeons evident satisfaction
“Crippled crippled look he’s lame
Hop-along Cassidy is his name!”
I died inside
hid and cried
hung my head in mortal shame
Very cruel the other kids could be
jeered and laughed and bullied me
Until I wondered if
God had blundered
And so resolved to go and see
I did my best to meet my maker
But became a recuperator
In hospice bed
Far from dead
A suicide impersonator
There came an angel in disguise
A teacher who didn’t instantly despise
Nor ridicule
A crippled fool
But tried instead to empathise
She gave me books and made me read
Seeing clearly an inner seed
As yet unfilled
underskilled
But glowing there, a burning need
She opened up my narrow mind
Allowing me to leave behind
A crippled past
A plaster cast
That held me in it’s prison bind
Now I write with creativity
And with much publicity
bathed in admiration
bought in proliferation
treated with tender sensitivity
And though I have a leg still game
It seems that popularity and fame
Make folk forget
My foot’s offset
And I am still inherently lame
By Humber in a drowsy afternoon,
When for my love long lost alone I pin’d,
My heart itself did sing a saddest tune
For woeful swain I was to be destin’d.
And I in pain then lov’d this timid croon,
That disposition of mine redefin’d
Against the verdure that beside had grown,
And yon bare land where Autumn crops been mown.
Th’ immediate surface expos’d a tiny fish,
And came thereon somewhence his entire train,
That blur’d my eyes, did vision diminish;
In azure ripples solace I did gain.
And every bird that flew out of his niche
Demulc’d mine ears that on the bank had lain.
I think of her and of the friends that me
No more confront and give me company.
My head upon a tufted ground takes rest,
And sees the pallid clouds stoop’d from above
To obfuscate the Sun that veers towards West;
These equalise the woe of futile love,
Thus empathise with youthful mind deprest,
And slothful healing thereto do they serve.
And lo the Hills! whence wafts the coolest breeze
The sole wanderer’s weary limbs can please.
The Lark so tiny that a blob he seems,
For he hath sor’d in unrestrained joy;
And scoffs the pensive man by blithesome whims,
That his gay mind with exultation cloy;
Flutters his wings ‘neath sudden Phoebus’ beams,
That through the pregnant clouds have found their way,
Like beams of Hope enkindle morbid heart,
O lucid Stream, now jocund as thou art!
(Theme--Oblivious)
7th May, 2017
Tear drops roll down my cheeks.
Blessed with mirror-touch synaesthesia!
Claircognizant empaths - inflame my aphasia.
I know, I know - the die is cast!
Eh! Still words - pierce through my silent heart.
Leave me – leave me!
I need time to talk with my soul.
For no one knows – why!
Why emotions welled up so high?
How would you know - the reason behind my sigh!
And why such deep grief and frown?
And why the frozen sea melted down?
And the pain behind my collapsing castle!
How intense is my tussle!
Yeah! How would you know?
What I just lost was my holy grail!
All I need is solitude to sail!
In the aftermath of any competition, be it sports or otherwise...
We will see a gamut of emotions in the mass of humanity in sight..
There will be riotous screams of joy and jubilation, laughter and smiles galore..
Fist pumps and high fives, happy faces all around at the victorious camp.....
We readily quip, to the victor the spoils of a victory most deserving...
To the losers we empathise and wish them better luck next time...
To be fair, all players deserve recognition for there was none who participated just to lose...
So if we downplay any successes, it is not doing justice by the best efforts of our children...
Every junior player, we can safely assume, he/she has done the best possible...
Look at the blood, sweat and tears each time they train and play their hearts out...
Those who achieve personal bests and better their rankings, congratulations!
Those who falter, train and work harder, gear up and go for the next competition...
Believe in yourself, empathise with others and undertake acts of kindness.
Endorse humility and compassion in order to curb evil forces around us.
In today's world where violence shadows the peace, we mainly depend on
Nurturing righteousness and uphold the human values that differentiate
Good from bad, right from wrong and let our conscience be untainted.
Honour life and help those who need our support. Sow seeds of goodness,
Ultimately what makes us different from animals is our human instinct.
Mistakes are to be taken as lessons learnt, have faith and hope for the best.
Acknowledge the fact - live and let others live, life is precious, life is short
Nothing lives forever, only our acts of kindness are left behind in the world.
July 9, 2016.
Being Human - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Wisdom
awaits discovery
experience The explorer
pearls of productive insight
needing excavation
exposed and nurtured
by devoted empathise
then replanted
within the fertile fields
of open minds