Best Understanding Poems
You call me insensitive,
But I don't believe that's true;
Because, you see,
It's all about me.
It's not about you.
You say your opinion doesn’t matter,
That I’ve no respect for your point of view;
But I do if we agree,
Because it’s all about me.
It’s not about you.
You say I’ve no compassion,
No feelings for your troubles or your blues;
But none of us is issue free,
And mine are all about me;
But…not about you.
A time old adage,
“To thine own self be true.”,
Is all about choices you see.
My choices are all about me,
And, certainly, not about you.
So, when its time to make your choices
You’ll understand and know it’s true;
To decide what will or will not be,
Won’t be at all about me;
It will be all about you
But special moments confront most of us,
When what matters isn’t “Me”.
And while these moments are few,
They’re not about me, not about you.
For a time, it’s all about “We.”
Yes, “…no man is an island.”
Is a valid point of view;
But if it’s not about “We”,
Then it’s all about me.
Sorry. It’s not about you.
Here appears diversity and divisiveness --
Similar words with different meanings,
I must not allow them to come between
Those folks who exhibit different leanings.
Diversity is a good thing, expanding my mind
Divisiveness frequently foments contention,
While it seeks to enforce its firm beliefs
Often giving no opposing views attention.
Diversity must be differences understood
And appreciated as a part of our culture,
Not thinking of differences as dividing
But enriching, becoming part of our nature.
I can never see everything as others do
For I am constantly formulating my ways
But I will try my best to understand you
And accept you, as you are … always!
Written October 4, 2022
#47 on the Best New Poems List
Poetry Soup
October 6, 2022
#42 on the Best New Poems List
Poetry Soup
October 26, 2022
You so desperately
Want to be understood
So I wonder
Why
Why do you
Hold back
So much of yourself
I see him digging
Chipping at your edges
Wondering what's behind the facade
He waits between your breaths
Ponders your pauses
Looks for answers
Pardons your harshness
He sees beyond the obvious
Is aware of your audible sadness
The place no one touches
Imperceptibly he reaches
Pushes past your protective
To the deeper you
The precious part
The unknown softness
The magnificence of you
The inner art
The revelation
of an unsequestered heart
For in letting go
You can be freed
Reach out for his hand
Let him take the lead
For he deserves
all of you
You deserve
all of him too
I see
I understand
I know
It's hard to let go
He's patient and will move slow
If you both want it
Love will grow
And you will be
Truly
Finally
Understood
why do all the hills rejoice
with rivers in the north?
why bother to go racing
in a race to then 'come forth'?
where on earth's the green hill
far away outside a wall?
and how can all God's creatures
be as great as they are small?
which dancer got up early
when the world had just begun?
and why do I feel frightened
by the words "thy will be done"?
how can any fight we fight
be seen as being good?
- the young me sang about a world
I never understood.
I am at peace, because I understood
My friends are leaving me for good.
I can never say that
I truly love them.
The lovely memories are like a wonderful song
But maybe I was wrong
Friends are seasonal and don’t last long.
I used to think that
They will be in my heart always.
It took me a while to realise that
I am better off without them.
It would be a lie to say that
I will always love my friends.
(Read from the last line to the first)
The birds flutter as twilight begins
So free they seem to be...
They have no worries at the end of the day
I often wonder what it must be like,
- not to know so many things -
Yet both of us, survival is necessary either way
What can I give but food, for beauty, music they give to me?
I watch them fly around, in the world they understand,
without knowing what they bring to ours
They are fluttering in their freedom,
that goes beyond all of our limits
And nor do we know or understand!
Heidi Sands
10/2/22
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder Poetry Contest //Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
Contest Judged: 8/14/2025 5:19:00 AM
( 1st Place )
Written: August 07, 2025
They say stillness is absence, an empty space between worth noting,
but I have heard its melodies in the pre-dawn chapel where stillness reigned
and still the walls exhaled calm.
I have found stillness and not loneliness---
but in two hands clutching without speaking,
the heart knowing inside out
language would only raze.
Silence is like sunlight before it shines,
the tranquility after I sleep and
the reluctance before "I forgive you",
It grips what chaos cannot express--admiration, agony, dread.
Even when grieving and when at a loss for words,
calmness is at hand and says it all.
So let the world fill with echoes.
With clamor and vivid proclamations.
I will still turn up beauty.
In the lull between storms,
In the hush between instinct and doubt
In the sacred calmness, that hark,
Not to respond, but to understand.
Learn to Listen
We must have Wisdom or Understanding
Must have Patience and Tolerance
5222014
Bring me a dream from the depth of your eyes,
Let me drown in those hidden ecstasies,
Fling a sunbeam from the cool sleet of ice,
Let it frown away forbidden worries,
Spare me a while, set me down on my knees,
Share me a smile, get me crowned with His peace.
01-27-17
Christmas, so full of life, and miracles, was found wanting this year.
A young mother sat by her daughter’s hospital bed, racked with tears.
Her daughter was sleeping way too still; her last breaths would soon come.
How could this happen to so beloved a child, she was way, too very, young.
Where was God’s wisdom, in taking a six year old, or her father as taken in war?
Church, friends, family, others, and her, had prayed till they could pray no more.
They’d ask for her: to walk in the sun, and play again, with family to hold her hand.
But her time was gone, like in an hourglass; the sand was almost, completely gone.
The mother was afraid to pray anymore… what could it accomplish any more?
What the disease hadn't taken, the cure had, nothing left, but for her soul, to soar.
But how could she hand her to the angels? Strangers had always frightened her child.
No, she sobbed, she’s way to young! Still she knew: life was never fair… or mild.
Where was God when you need him! Please don’t take her away! Her mind riled!
When suddenly, her daughter opened her eyes, and smiled her little, tired smile.
She whispered: Papa’s here… to hold my hand… He’s taking me… where I can play.
At that the fear receded… as she said she loved her… then watched her fade away.
Perhaps her prayers HAD been answered… She’d had her time with her, after all.
Now her Husband, would take her place… Perhaps it was his turn, to carry on.
Tears would still be shed… It was natural for that to happen, when this befalls.
But she knew her daughter now had everything, including The Great Father’s Love.
There are many types of Christmas magic, but as her time came to a close…
A mother’s love can’t be beat, except by God’s Love, for us all…
Lord's prayer Matt6:9,10
Jesus taught us to pray, what to say to God, His Father, Our Father.
Oft repeated rarely understood words that put
His Fathers name first, to be sanctified made holy.
Isaiah43:10 he declares that he has his witnesses
that declare his wonderful name Jehovah, through all the earth.
"Let your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven".
What a wonderful hope that by means of God's kingdom, a real government,
(see Daniel2:44) that the earth can be a paradise, again, with conditions, like heaven, when Jesus begins his 1000 year rule over the earth Revelation20:6.
Understanding the two hopes or destinies of the faithful has help me to understand so much more, of how life will be when paradise on earth is restored, and we can witness the resurrection of our dear loved ones back to life on earth.
Even Jesus described the two destinies Matt5:3 Spiritual persons will inherit the
heavenly kingdom, Matt5:5 meek shall inherit the earth mirroring Psalm37:29
What a blessing understanding what has been misunderstood and repeated for almost two thousand years.
Jesus did say the "truth will set you free"John8:32.Knowing and understanding
God's love, as revealed in his Word I do feel free, free from desperation, free from ignorance, free from falsehood, free from the Devils lies.
I look forward to the time when the Kingdom will come and God's will, will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
John Derek Hamilton
December 26, 2015
What did he mean
when he said
turn the other cheek?
Does it mean
violence isn't the answer
and peace is always the way?
Is it to deny the natural
carnal response?
To challenge the older laws
that have long been ensconced?
Maybe it's a come on
to the ungodly
"Give me what you got
I have no need to be afraid."
Maybe he meant
our bones are fragile
but our hope is not?
It shall never rust nor decay.
Surely a punch in the face
is no threat to one's life.
If a man put a gun to your wife
would you just let her die??
(surely life is precious
but God have mercy
should it come to this)
Should we cast down our weapons,
trade them for pruning hooks?
Is that what Jesus meant?
Or perhaps, maybe,
it begs you to take a deeper look.
and gaze at the wisdom God has sent.
Does it not surely mean that hatred
can't be snuffed out
by more hatred?
There are many trials we go through
but one thing we must know
is that love should always be sacred.
When he stated
Ye are the Light of the World
does that not imply
that the world itself is DARKNESS?
It's a gloomy forbidding place
with many pricks and thorns:
why add to the harshness?
For now it seems
we see through a glass darkly.
Having trouble deciphering
the passages and what they meant.
What about Romans 13
where it says, Execute vengeance
against those who do evil?
To whom is it referring
and to what extent?
Our limited understanding
leaves us grounded.
NOTE: This was written in response (and inspiration) to Liam McDaid's poem titled Thou Shalt Not Kill. It's a very fascinating topic, and one where I don't quite have answers...
A
new
journey
to find peace
in my heart and soul
through meditation and prayer
introduced me to a higher state of consciousness
that encourages my spirit to seek understanding in all aspects of my life.
A poem is more,
Than rhythm and rhyme.
The words must have balance,
With tempo and time.
Free Verse is like that,
The words have a blend,
That helps it to flow,
From beginning to end;
Sometimes like honey,
From a sweet honey tree,
Sometimes like a river,
As it flows to the sea;
But there's always a message,
Or a story that's told.
The words can be sweet,
Or compelling and bold.
A poet's an artist,
Painting pictures with words,
Bringing out music,
Your ears haven't heard;
A music that comes,
From down deep in your soul.
It makes one feel free,
It makes one feel whole.
To be able to write,
Words that reach out and touch,
Something special inside you,
And bringing out much,
Of the feelings inside you,
That we often hide;
Often revealing things,
So deep inside,
Even you did not know,
Were hiding in there;
But the words shine a light,
On beliefs and on cares;
So when you read a poem,
Don't just read words on paper.
You must feel them and taste them,
For words have a flavor.
Sometimes it's bitter,
And sometimes it's sweet;
But if you taste it,
It's always a treat;
For a poet shows more,
Than the stories he's told,
When he shows you his poems,
He shows you his soul.
I remember summers past in the south
and the sultry heat.
Iced tea and back porch confessions.
Making time with that first love.
The swing underneath that old tree.
The radio playing softley in the background.
Thoose ways have long since died.
Replaced by a breakneck pace.
As were all to willing to forsake a conversation between
two human beings.
It's all about one night stands and bragging rights.
It's like comparing velvet to burlap.
All harsh no mystery.
Where people would rather surf the internet
than ocean.
The passion of the kiss.
Is but a dinosaur that people
view as some old silent film.
A blanket underneath the stars
Has been replaced by a encounter in a
bathroom stall.
Upward we advance as deeper we sink within the
mud.
As the poet reflects ink drying
in he pen.
I recall thoose times so very slow.
To this sudden stand still.
Like a pile up on the interstate.
I no longer live I wait.
But the sunset still haunts me.
Along with the scent of the salt filled air.
that tree's swing does no longer stand.
As in dust and memories it's been taken with
the wind.
The road echos of another time.
For all that was free and wild.
Is slowley vanishing.
As we blindly advance.
I'll sit and watch the tide.
And be happy to be left behind.