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N Sep 22
I wonder if the filed of lavender
sighs when it yearns for her scent

I wonder if the sunflowers
worship her raven hair
like the sun

I wonder if the moon weeps
with longing over her absence  

I wonder if the sky turns pink
when the spring breeze
touches her silky skin

I wonder if the cherries bleed in her
mouth like my heart when she left
Kara Shirlene Aug 22
I reach to my heart
When depth of despair draws near
And the weight of the world
Rests on my weary shoulders.

I reach to my heart
When the lack of compassion and apathy prevails
Because tongues of men spit words
That couldn't be further from the truth.

I reach to my heart
When the brave and wise tend to
Other's needs alongside their own,
Because their hearts are made of
Pure Gold.

I reach to my heart
When the fear of the unknown
Becomes too much to bear.
When my mind won't stop chattering.

I reach for my heart
When it all feels like too much...

But the Peace Lily bloomed
Just to weep with us too,
And suddenly all of our burdens became one.

I reach for my heart
When there is no hope in sight
Yet- deep down I know I can feel
The Healing Light.
Because Love is all I've ever truly known.
©KSS 4/2020
This poem was written in response to my feelings of grief surrounding the global pandemic. It was April, and my Peace Lily had bloomed for the first time in a few months, and I just remember feeling so comforted by the hope of new life by this bloom. I thought, what beauty to decide to bloom in the middle of a pandemic, perhaps just to bring comfort and weep with us too.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 8

sometimes I weep gratitude:

you send a poem my way
that wrenches this old heart
in ways that believed were
no longer possible. weep.

eyes see your word images in actual physicality,
me, shedding cells and real tears, musing,
easier is good work that originates in all
new things beautiful, freshly created,
repairing old.^

despair for those who know not this sensing,
weep for yourselves, that I cannot
sway and assuage you, with quality words
that harbor both of us, in mutuality.

call in of reinforcements, sharing a single dock,
visions of rocking together in the wakes of others,
if when you should ever think of me,
think this,
your words are my comforter wake,
gentling my rocking quaking.

my weeping is but
the noise of desperation,
being washed away by the sound of
gratitude weeping


Thu Aug 20  2020

precious everything:    awake, morning chores, no worry, won’t bore you, someone else, tv turns on, claptrap commences, plead with myself for music, a poem, any escape from the horrors of reality, the world’s self inflicted  afflictions, the tv talkers accuse me of complicity,  by merely existing, and not sending “them” money to wage their war, and line their pockets, and I passed the weeping point, freely acknowledge this ain’t much of a poem, not even a rant, just an accumulation of worries, mine lesser than most, yet finding breathing hard, harder than the lungs say is necessary, the future  like lead bells around my neck, bent, and I age ten years in precious seconds, when dare I contemplate how the grandchildren will survive, s u r v i v e, much more than how mine will unwind for my own currency is spent, used...then you send me a new poem and I weep with fresh gratitude for this new, one more day. nml.
I weep daily............
After weeping i feel so much relief

I feel so much relief after weeping..Weeping is need to be strong one.
It's also an exercise to remove extra burden of mind,after weep we feel in relief.
Thanks for reading my opinion.
Lane O Jul 12
Oh, young sunflower!
facing east towards the Sun.
You follow her for hours,
till dusk when day's done.
Her light shines bright;
colors -- vivid and deep.
But when her light ebbs
do you droop and weep?
Cody Haag Apr 25
A smile is on my lips,
While a hole is in my soul;
I'll laugh for the moment,
But cry when I'm alone.

My mask is perfect,
Deceiving all who see.
They think I am content,
Cannot hear my silent plea.

If I am hurting,
You will never know.
My mask is unwavering,
Blow after blow.
Dez Apr 24
Reach but you shall not attain
The glory of a great writer
Never will I gain
For I write but I am not a writer
So I only feign
And now I weep for I can not be a writer
All my work is mundane
But I desire to be a writer
And will continue to go through the pain
Though I will never reach the hight’s of a writer
I will go until I wane though all call me insane
All to be a writer
All to be a writer
I write but I am not a writer
Pyassa Lias Apr 15
Drunk on life
I’ve stumbled, plenty a times whilst sober
A straight line, I once walked
With shackles around my feet
My cheeks hurt
And my eyes begin to water
Drunk on life
Laughing until I weep
Ayodeji Oje Apr 13
Living in a world that snobs
Is as painful as scorpion's sting
As I make random motions
I see more booings
Greeted with bruises
No **** not even an harry
Sees how I weep in isolation
But all shall cling to me in limelight
Hunter Mar 21
If I cannot weep
I will not sleep
If I cannot feel
I will not heal
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