Compassion, compassion

  Poets, viewers, poems with injurious remarks
Why we do the things we do?

We were born to suffer together
a poet who asked his viewers to feel his pain
Throughout the lines, while tearing down the barriers
that separate and divide the poet and the readers

I bluntly said to that poet, one heart, and one love
If I was to say to that poet:  death is good for some people
They deserve to die a painful death,
Am I asking too much of the poet to show empathy:

Who gave him the right, to steer me through his attitude and guilt
Who gave him the right, too asked of me to join a sympathetic crusade?
right now I'm in the process of turning empathy off and say buzz off Man!

Don't approach a dog unknown to you
Holding out your hand, making eye contact
You may frighten him
Let him come to you

Don't write a poem uninspired
It won't work out
In good time
Let it come to you

Don't go out there seeking love
Like a child with a butterfly net
Live your life
Let it come to you

She wants to be noticed and seen
he see's only from within himself
mascara tears run down her face
black streams that reflect her soul
he see's nothing but a flickering screen
she recoils into a lonely asylum
sanctuary for the lonely hearts
lesser things are left unspoken
echos of the voices inside her head
he see's everything but is blind
she see's nothing but the void.

Blood, now boils quick, it's intense, he is in fire,
on her every touch, there is a special anesthetic
a poisonous binge, causes tidal waves go berserk
in his stream of blood,tangible effects of arousal results,

body now is a vast field,  goosebumps sprout like spotted
magic mushrooms after a night long rain and thunderclaps,
the salacious intent of the scent of woman,wafts,
singing pheromones perfectly rhyme with *** center
of the brain, "Ï am addicted to tarantula's love"
his whisper sounds ominous, tarantula casts her net

Serpentine vines tangle on wild trees,in natural history
museum premises,trees fall down and rise, create leaf beds
dark enclosures where lovers escape the detection of radars,
explore,the unbridled ascent of carnal wishes,as if a permit
is ingrained in the scent of exotic orchids wafting in the wind,
allowing the wild run of instincts, a dam burst, here cobras prowl,
tarantulas, at a quick look are exposed ******* with dark *******,
on eight legs the desire stands,waiting for the next ***** lover,

She was watching an insatiable pair of tarantulas in elaborate
mating rituals,they move inside, cracks and burrows,concealed
by the cover of darkness,they come out,to eat the night flowers,
exhaling ****** hunger; their dark, devious fingers, touching, caressing
finding each other's intimate  parts has a dark frenzy...
he saw the blue glimmer of a concealed weapon,smeared on by amour,
as they tumble in bed,she flashes her most venomous smile,
like the quick move of the sharp end of a bodkin,
Tarantula's love affair,when it all are over, her lover's end comes near.

I was in love with a Poem:

The poet lured her victims into her wild kingdom of
Word, words, words, that
became the forest of ****** illusion
verses and verses that I never encounter;

In this kingdom I never notice the Sunrise before Sunset
The chanting before the protesters
Lightening before the winds
suddenly brought on by the rain,
That triggers the mighty storms:

The poetics effects of Similes, Hyperbole,
Understatement and personification devices got my attention
Pages after pages,
line of words that opened my eyes,
The mighty pen, a trending poem,
and there I was a loyal reader
With an amazing cup of hot coffee

The poem took me through
this much-modernized tale of
Alice’s rabbit hole adventures

Poems are to be read aloud,
loving making is meant to be private
So is mourning for the dead:
Some things are just meant to be...private

My love for the poem and
my admiration on its poetic views
Is more than human emotions,
than my stimuli of brain ***
I read the poem while sipping my coffee,

Birth, death, politics and religion
***, drugs and empty souls : human emotions,
This much-modernized free verse poetry can causes multiplies  *******

All the time and everywhere I look…
The search of my eyes end, when I see what you left and what you took.
I look for the signs you leave,
Back in the room where you lived.

I see the signs like your jacket lying on the couch,
I look at the ring of water percolated from your glass,
I smell a mingle of both your perfume and your scotch,
Resting my eyes on the undone bed, at last.

Bedazzled with the idea of you without you,
I visit the places which I visited with you.
I go to the temple where you took me once,
Making my peace with the fact, that you weren’t here since months.

In the same city, on the same path,
I have your signs enveloped around my heart.
Since I know it won’t be long when you return,
I stare at that coffee shop, wondering when will it be again when we start.

I am habitual to look for your signs,
On the roads which we used to take,
Your roads and mine.
When somebody talks like you,
The habitual me thinks, that your signs they make.

Make that journey of waiting shorter for me,
Let’s look for those signs together, as ‘we’.
Let’s create some more signs for me to reminisce,
And thy signs shall I always seek.