Healing(P) Poems - Poems about Healing(P)

IN CAPABILITY GARDENS

IN CAPABILITY GARDENS

There’s ability,
And there’s disability;
Let’s garden both:
Ability’s seeds fruiting
Disability’s healing:-

MENDING PEACE IN WAR

MENDING PEACE IN WAR

Wounds of war bleed,
Healing needs our helping hands:
It’s time to stitch peace:-

The Return

We went away at seventeen,
Still green about the ears,
Not knowing that in between
The war and later years
We would be haunted to the core,
Damaged in the head.
We did not return from war;
We brought it home instead.

The fight out there was not as loud
As is the fight inside;
It blankets me, just like a shroud;
Life is a wild

Crape Myrtles in August

The bark peels back like old skin—
Mine, yours, the cinnamon scrolls
Of what we shed to live. August
Bleaches the world to bone, the bark’s faint spice
Rising in the noon glare,
Heat tasting of salt and sand. And still this Crape crowns
Itself with Myrtle fire. Still—

I cannot explain what breaks in me. Still I press my cheek
Against its

Family

When winds are rough,
And tear at hopes and dreams
When days are dark, and nights are tough,
And over-long, it seems
When bitter clouds collect above,
And ache and break and pour
We'll batten down the hatches, 
Just like we did before.
You see, to me - we're made to last;
To wait, contented, warm;
To stand and know the past has passed.
For

BLOODLINE ECHOES

I walk with a weight that I never quite chose,
But somehow it fits, like the thorn on a rose.
The pain and the beauty, they bloom just the same—
Two sides of a story that whisper my name.

Born of a mother whose roots ran so deep,
But stolen at birth in a silence that still weeps.
They called it

The wound that never heals but continues to grow

Skin broken cannot be repaired 
Healing is possible but trauma stays their
Invisible to those with a privileged eye
Visible to those who still ache and cry
Skin will cover what the heart won't show
A pain felt by those who know
What it was like to be named ghetto

Time can heal but what if it don't 
When the glue

I Left No Trace, In Empty Space

Three days ago, I was buried on 
the ground as it seems!
A cascade of issues as the days go by.
The unrelenting sorrows and pain---
Weak, broken, desolation it brings!

I seized the world with open hands,
optimism, smile, love as much as could.
Full of hope, peace and wisdom.
Still joy would vanish out of sight.

I left no trace in

Old wounds surfacing

under the shade of a cyprus
my lover whispers sweet and tender nothings
revealing glimpses of a splintered heart
where wounds are still fresh
~ a healing process underway



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Walked Away for Peace

I walked away not free from snags
caused by those in authority,
but to be free from cruelty
to save my spirit against evilness 
And injustice in power's grip

Tied up by abusive six sprawling 
division in command,
footsteps no trace, only an echo
weeping soul in the dusk!

Harsh words
dug deeper into my soul—
sickening insults
to my inner self—
a burden carried
within the shadowed kingdom.

So

Listen

Words are just a wrapper—
Truth lives in the ache,
Not in the noise we speak,
But in what starts to break.

We often make remarks,
Wearing their grief like borrowed skin,
But fail to touch the fire,
That burns beneath within.

"I feel alone," we think we hear—
"I'm fearful. I'm not okay."
We answer, "I'm sorry,"
Then turn and walk away.

But somewhere in the

Wounds

A vicious rehearsal 
has forked out. It is a flame that 
bothers but borders on the 
essence of life—the 
survival of a community 
searching for answers 
after the quake and 
the flood. I gather 
         these rhymes like 
firewood 
as I piece together the lines 
only legible

A Piece of My Mind on Peace of Mind

They asked for a piece of my mind—
so I offered silence, wrapped in gold.
No rage, no clamor, no thunderclap,
just breath unbroken when the world turned cold.

Peace of mind isn't a destination,
but a pact with storms I’ve learned to outlast.
Not the absence of chaos—but grace,
in the moments I choose not to cast judgment, holding fast.

It's the

Without Fear

It’s the darkness, flooding the silent room
A still so bitter it flows, splashing fears
Weary as the moments I would never presume
Pierce the heart with feelings, frantic tears

It’s the night, breathing in echoes of anxiety
Murmuring shadows who still the soul
Wiping out the silhouettes of notoriety 
Following the screams of a dread’s control

It’s the dusk, ending twilight’s

The Crown of Cruelty

In a realm where kindness has vanished,
Where no light dares to appear,
The echoes of darkness reign,
Majestic and cruel in their sphere.

Sharp tongue, slice like a knife in depth 
as you speak.
A flashy eye glare soothes your skin 
as you walk past.
Words are full of deception, discrimination, 
hatred of your color, identity as you-a settler 
in

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