Words unspoken,
Lips sealed,
Heart beats fast.

As he comes close the world stopped for a second,
Felt like  heaven ,
Spaces filled,
All the pain and distance faded.

Blood stoped flowing could it be?
Not sure until he hugged,

Love and compassion filled,
That was it !

It felt like the earth was shaking,
Like we were standing under the spotlight,
Yes it was love,

It felt like we were floating,
How beautiful it felt,
Until,
It all shattered.

Heart perplexed,
Eyes filled with tears,
Nothing was the same.

He was gone,
Gone like the wind.
All their left were memories,
Memories of the one who got away !

by letting it out, smashing dishes all along the waterfall,
by taking punches at the tall oaks  right in their barks,
I've learned to kick dirt like a pro,
Billy Martin would be proud,
bless his soul,

I have begun to see life as a hard cruel duel
and want to feel something crunch under my heel,
until I look  in eyes again.
The toad I was gonna scrunch looked
like my ex,
and i thought,

something that ugly and *****, I have to
have compassion or empathy for, for I ain't really
no better.

A written word displayed on a page with Integrity or profanity. A way to speak to one's fellow person, displaying thoughts and ideas for all to see. What poison can the quill deliver or what medicine to restore the soul with truth? The written word has its context, it brings Joy it elicits hatred it makes us have compassion. Words can start wars or they can make peace. Things written down can Inspire and create or tear down and Destroy overnight. Heroes are made and villains are created all by simple words. How they are penned by the quill will determine their intent. In forms of eloquent oration or simple alliteration, words can move people in One Direction or another. So we must never underestimate, nor should we negate the responsibility in the power that the quill has with the written word.

From the garden of Heaven a western breeze
Blows through the leaves of my garden of earth
                                             --Hafiz

Humility comes easier
And easier, accumulates
In the pockets of poverty,
The deep rivers of the heartland,
Where we're told by cashiers to have
A blessed day--sing, count your many--
And it's true as the western breeze,
Where leaves flutter, underrated.

Compassion, in the garden of
Heaven, God's country, flown over
Aside from quick stops to mine votes,
Cannot be regained in this land
By anything less than human,
By any houses not holy.

I try to run from her
yet she is mother and lover
she is all I ask of life
and she commands me

She will tell me when to speak
and when she wants me to shut up
she the glorious widow of artists
she is making me naked again

I love her with a passion
I try by my compassion
to show to her
to show to her my love

Yet she will make me naked again
make my inner walls crumble
and I will make naked once again
my mind in her eyes of pure love


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka Neonsolaris

You don’t know how much l cherished loving you
Waking every morning, seeing your name on my phone
It reminded me that l mattered to someone
Not for a second but for months of compassion and deep connection
Now you aren’t here….

It takes countless stabs and insults to break my barriers
“You’re worthless, you’re fat, and you don’t deserve me”
This shattered me like a mirror hanging from the thinnest shred of string
Trying to glue back the mistakes, showing all the imperfections l have

I see you around at school, joyous as anything l can preserve
Why aren’t you broken like l, why can’t you feel the pain l endured?
You aren’t human, the devil of burning hatred weaved in layers of despair of fallen foes
Wishing no one else could go through the reckless mistakes l promise would never end

My heart can only take so much, you pushed it to the limit and beyond
This took me to another of level of mental pain l could never imagine
Crying and sobbing to show that l had enough, you always kept going further
These were the words you spoke, the person l could always trust, now a stranger

Tormented, l walk through the world with locked secrets and a broken smile
Thoughts of how l can try to fix this issue, nothing has worked, you disgraced a living person
I don’t know how you live with such a high status of popularity because it consumes you
Everyone adores you, l did until now, having your secrets and the key to your weakness

I’ll make you feel the karma, the promised negativity from deep within
Shaking with the thoughts of unimaginable sights
The pain you put me through, is just about to occur
But anyways im broken now its your turn :)

Whether you are a person of faith,
Or no faith,

Whether you are from North,
South,
East,
Or West,

Whether you lean Right-Wing,
Or Left-Wing,

Whether you are Rich,
Or Poor,

Whether you are Black,
Or White,

Whether you are Here,
There,
And Everywhere,

One thing NEVER EVER changes…
The way MAN controls WOMAN,

From the moment a girl is born,
People run around,
Society comes calling,
Elders come pointing,
All seeking to lay a word here
And a word there,

A Woman is constantly under pressure,
She is ordered around,
Manipulated by friends and foe,
Made to feel guilty and inferior,
Told to wear this and that,
Held behind as Men progress,

I say one thing and it is this:

Let a Woman have REAL CHOICE,

And those who dare to point fingers,
I say to them look to your own lives,

My faith is Humanity,
Not Man made insanity,

The light of the Beloved glows on all,
Seek compassion,
And be at peace.

What is just below the surface, what lies under the skin. These are the things that define what and who we are. If you have a giving soul and a valiant spirit, you will show courage and compassion. If you are fearful and selfish, then you will exhibit cowardice and hate. Only those who would sacrifice for another without thought for their own well being will truly define themselves and posses true sense of self. In moments that test us, we truly show what lies beneath.

Sorrow floods my eyes tonight
Streams into every pore
It cannot be contained
For the depths of compassion
The depths of love
Propel forth the immense wave

My body shakes with anxiety
My breaths come quick and shallow
Because I believe you
When you say you’d do it
You’d end your life
You’re not well, my dear friend
And I know I can’t help you

You’re breaking my heart...
I know you don’t mean to
It’s simply a side effect
Of allowing myself to care
So wholeheartedly
So completely

And now

The sorrow
The dread
The pain
The concern
The tears
The tragedy
The calamity
The grief
The new marks
The old marks...


Have left me

Overwhelmed

Dear delegates
I stand before you
As an altered man

My eyes and ears have been opened
By the courageous voices
Of those people
Young and old
Who have expressed to the world
Without fear of reprisal
The truth of our shared reality

I am humbled and inspired
By the example
Of Greta Thunberg
Who has campaigned for our future
And our planet
Whilst I
Have chosen to deride and ignore
All those people
That I deemed
To be obstacles
To the achievement
Of my own plans

I am so sorry
I was wrong

You see, I wanted to get
The best for my people
And take what I saw
Was the quickest route
By digging up and burning more coal
And investing in more oil
And starting wars when there was no need
But I was wrong
And I am so sorry

I can now see
That our planet cannot cope
With these activities any more

I can no longer deny
That our forests are burning
And that are species are dying
I can no longer deny
The reefs are failing
And the soil is degrading
I can no longer deny
That our very existence is under threat

I have been so wrong
And I apologise

If you will let me
I would ask
Only to serve you
In a new way
In a way that I hope
Will amend the great wrongs
I have allowed and encouraged

For years
I cannot deny
That I have longed for greatness
And now I see
The only way for me to achieve
Some kind of redemption
And meaningful recognition
Is to give my life
For the sake of others
And our planet

I will use my office
To lead my country
As best I can
Into a new era
In which all life is respected
In which clean and green
Replaces oil and dust
In which the waters run pure again
And the air is alive and fresh

We will give our beautiful planet
The love that it needs
So that we can continue to receive
The nourishment and compassion
It offers to us
As your humble servant
I offer my remaining years
To you

I carry my soul deep inside me
or may be, this soul carries me.
Who is the soul, anyway?
My soul and me are one.
It is my child;
the very light that is my guide.
I imagine, it is in my arms -
all clung to me
and covered in blanket from wherever you could see.
I consider it me
yet a different entity
completely.
I don't actually know what love is
but caring for oneself is the most intrinsic truth of compassion - I believe.

I walk with "ANOTHER",
I walk with a "LOVER",
I walk with "LOVED" ones,
I walk to be "MY" happiest,
I wish I had my four leaf "CLOVER" luck.

"THE" way of life relies on luck
Yet my "CLOVER" was secretly five,
Hit with bad "LUCK",
I found out that I "NEEDED",
Less luck & more "LOVE",
With that said I left "SINCE",
My heart was "NO" longer whole,
I will always love that "ONE",
I guess I "COULD" be the one,
Yet I couldn't "FIND" the one.
So is one's "LOVE" important, or one's pain.

"FRIENDS" can be here,
Or there,
But the ones we "FIGHT",
Tend to stay the most,
Probably as "OFTEN" as they fight,
We can see that,
They feel compassion despite their spite...

"LOVE" is a tragedy brewing,
Yet friends find "LOVE" in anything,
So is all we want is tragedy,
Or the small amount of good times,
We find from "LOVE".

Complicated

Well we’ve been down  the road a few times
We think we know, learn, but we are truly blind

Unknowingly, instinctively we succumb to our desires
Yet knowing what will surely transpire

We end up where we began, no passing “Go”
Sent back to the same life as we know

When will we move ahead and buy “park place and boardwalk”
Not in the cards unless a change is made, grow, and stop the talk

Hate the game, hate the rules,
But it is simply how we chose

Can’t go back, only ahead, only one direction
Don’t stray, don’t seek acceptance or perfection

Simply be true, honest and have compassion
Certainly with that, great things will happen

Complicated
Yeah life is twisted
But unravel the code
Be you, show you, and you cannot be resisted

Sometimes I just stare at
the person talking in front
of me and a roomful of
adolescents and ignorant grownups
and I want to step towards that person
get their attention and then gravely ask

are you happy with how your life
turned out to be content with what
you accomplished and was given in
return aspired by challenging
figures who as lifelong perfections
construct metal walls around hearts

Do you know who you are; can you
remember or live throughout each
day without questioning whether you'll
make it through or not because I can't
and it's frustrating but strangely
refreshing at the same time because
change is more likely to occur when you
think too much about such simple dead things

but some things in life were never
meant for some people no matter
how much they try or how much
they wish and why don't the people
in their lives understand that why
couldn't they feel compassion and
show support for the person as
how he or she already is and not
who they want that person to become

I hate people like that
people who can live day by day
beside a person throughout their lives
and never ever be able to know or see
who that person really is and never
ever be able to understand or care for them
because they're too ignorant and expectant
and selfish and they just can't see.

I stare at the person that's talking
in front of a roomful of strangers
and whiny adolescents and politicians
and attentive Gods and jittery parents
I stare at myself and ask
Are you really happy?

He was strong…

He was more of a soul than a mind
For that, most people thought he was always behind
Little did they know, that without compassion
All success in life would burn then ashen

He believed in strength: of heart, body and soul
“That of the mind would come on its own”
They thought all that mattered were a set of grades
And the millions of degrees set on walls for decades

“Such a silly game,” he often reflected,
“Chasing after fogs and lost dreams – dejected.
Though how much would they give to feel any emotion
Anything to evade, to escape, the commotion?”

You know you're a lion right....and a tiger...one of the earth.
To justice, kindness and love
My ligress gives birth.

I am the iron dog fabled for the ferocity of his loyalty but who needs and craves the warmth and compassion of the gentle beast.

I am also a scorpion....what sign are you?

Defeated , deflated,
despondent, degraded,
All fun out the door,
Am I mad to want more?

Hyenas all circling,
Baying and burbling,
They hunt for a thrill
The chase and the ****.

Bombarded, lambasted,
Prodded and tested,
My world pandemonium,
Surrounded by odium.

I've worked and I've tried
For greatness I've strived,
So little compassion
Today's angry fashion.

All I now say,
All I now do,
Battered and burned,
No sympathy earned.

Yet on I go,
I toil and I sow,
For a better tomorrow
Masking my sorrow.

But let the chips fall,
I'll weather this squall,
I'm great at this game
Who then will they blame?

the wind and mind flavored
by extraterrestrial wanderings
i crave the six tastes
especially salty, sour and sweet
as a water buffalo ambles down the street
catharsis in somnambulant heat
sweat and catheters dripping at our feet
the precipitous welcoming party
where chaos and compassion meet
in the etheric theater and compare notes
about a performance some dare to call real life
upon ubiquitous streets
covered in grief, street food and ***** soil
that might someday be the only things left for us to eat

lord
there
is
a fountain of faith
that
dwelleth
in
thy heart
and
beneath
it surface
is
everlasting
love
mercy
compassion
dedication
and
service
to
thy lord
glory hallelujah
peace be still

Meet the world with a smile
Show love toward others
Focus on a clear mind
Show loving compassion

I like a woman

And I am happy she is my friend
I lover her as my friend

Gentle kindness and tranquility
This is the way

In a dream, in a very secret dream-
I thought about someone in deep secret ..

I am a dreamer,
Day to day belongs to the hope
And the path goes on and on.

Oh the past! Beyond my hope-
I saw that fell by each and every moment.

In intense silence,
The moments are gone passed
Still thinking anxiously.

O neighbor of my heart-
When you have become a distant stranger.

Never know
Could not read my heart, with exhaled compassion -
I saw all in the middle of a dream,
It floats in the blink of an eye.

In a dream, in a very silent dream-
I saw someone in deep secret ..

I am imperfect, but I try to do better. I was not born great but I will strive to do great things. My name might not be put up in lights, but it will be remembered by those to whom I show mercy. I may not achieve great wealth, but I will gladly share a meal with those in need. I will seek out wisdom that I may in someway teach another. I will be open to learn new things in order to better myself. I will stand for my convictions though others might not agree with me. I will have compassion when I can so that things will be better than when I came. In the end I will have faith that heaven will see the good and forgive the bad. I will hope for others to be successful and pray for them to receive blessings. These are the things I strive for, this is the life I hope to achieve. Of this I give a testimony so that others may know what I believe.

Psalm 90:6
in the morning it springs up new, but by evening it fades and withers.


When my heart returns in the seclusion,

I uttered these words to myself,

Give it time, be wise, embrace self-compassion

I must put myself first, I must, I must,  

This time around, I don't want to walk away,

Taste only me, make love to only me
Reflected only in my space.
enchantment leads to my dearest delight
enter my soul before the break of dawn

A dream within a dream according to Edgar Allan Poe

For our morning blessing/
Happy or sad, our morning salutations/
There is nothing more appealing  
Than seeing white undershirts and white teeth
as it captures the youth of innocent,  
falling in love, with a cub, half my age,  

A trickery of unfocused emotions bearing down.  


I can see no flaws,  
I see only what my heart allows,

Trembling lips, both top and bottom
gazing into those eyes of witchery illusions

Just this once, just feed me, just enter my soul  

This frigid northern cold, the Africa heat rises:
Who will bless this union?
When it all fades like leaf

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.

Let me love you for now,

Let me smile, while you smile,

aloud me, to accept you,

as you enter my soul

Cut,
but not until the root.
That would be compassion.
There has to be a few pieces left,
so it doen't stop hurting,
so you don't stop remembering.
He gets out of your life and conversations,
but not from your memory.

That music will always make you remember him,
so will that place,
that nickname,
that smile.

You really don't know what happened
but, in the end,
there was nothing,
only this bitter memory
trapped inside you.

you have to address this rage to a particular kid, aged 11, on a pristine sunday with his grandfather visiting, and the home office officers showing up... illegal... but i'm pretty ******* sure that the mothers of manchester are dead busy... explain to a kid what is illegal in the traffic of humans from what is illegal in the traffic of goods... explain to him leaving behind a language acquired, explain to him having to abandon school... explain to him why the Somalis get the social housing in west london and he can't get hold of a ladder... just because: **** has to look... pretty... explain that to him, and i'm sure... he'll understand... a ******* letter from Downing St. to his father means jack-**** at this point... the sort of English "sorry" you're accustomed to.

maybe the lack of mention
of Poland is
worthwhile when it comes
to western media,
their, unadulterated
aspirations!
           among lutheran, anglican,
and the huguenots!
*****, next time you ask
me to *****-please you i'll
recite the 302 "poznański" squadron
and 303 "kościuszko" squadron,
what, the ****, do you take me for?
some ******* ****?!
you english snout pressed mutt
worth of a nation?
            come next summer...
i'll give you the same ******* answer!
you start preaching *******
to your former colonial fiefdoms, ****...
oh, please, remind me,
about your "justice" system...
          i've learned about
as much justice as i am allowed
to purge by turning to bulimic
           squats...
yeah, you're so ******* special
i'm about to fold a daffodil for you!
       ******... choke....
        choke on your prize
that is the vain pride of your efforts...
there's nothing quiet alike the world
to be equal...
                     i once agreed on your terms...
now, you agree on my terms...
            your ****-**** tangle of
entertaining a kebab shop?
ask them if they'd allow sour-*****
to be added to their ******* serving
of cabbage...
                 pretty please!
                    no,
i had affairs in this country before
my use of language suddenly received
the twitch...
           and i started losing it...
              i once attempted to settle
on your terms, now?
    can't be bothered...
                      all i see is vermin's worth
of people, scuttling into their little
castles of sand thinking:
shopping next sunday is most assured...
puny, ******* quack-***** the world
has ever seen!
scuttling in bare daylight!
                 no!
take your little Somali half-wit party
of a dozen relentless leeches and tell me to
******* once and for all...
but by my account...
i'll leave this language, ******, before
i start desiring your women being
so undesirable...
                       you already had a chance...
i gave it, but instead you harboured
islamic terrorists...
      just go back to your little
mud holes and squirm some more...
     the next time an englishman
steps foot in poland...
  i'll cut his testicles off...
no, i'm not... 'ard...
                but i know how minions are
born... and someone else will...
      i am assured of the proper way
to write history...
                                  like pontius pilate!
i sleep so well, i answered her,
because i have a clean conscience...
               prior to the resurrection of j.c.,
comes the resurrection of p.p.,
and if there's any passion in believing
in the Hindustan theological engineering...
just tickling, nibbling at the idea...
"i am" the resurrection of pontoius pilate;
but, like i said... i'm tickling with the idea...
   i'm not that insane to entertain
a certainty of it being true...
      and no englishman ever stood ground
in my abode...
          i retain my: mowe matki;
at least i'll die knowing that my people
died a death among their own...
and not in some co-op
****-show of supposing compassion,
when it fact, merely showing contempt...
and my first lesson when moving
to england as a child:
two-faced *****-faced-wankers...
            and i heed you to believe
that i have integrated to the point
where i can make that observation...
the english thought themselves
the bellybuttons of the world,
give the Greenwich meridian...
they're not...
but they are, as all good actors:
willing to pretend;
yet i'm not jihadist in my enterprise...
why **** something so pathetic,
when it can die its own,
slow, sullen, death?

There is power in the name of Love
it all started from heaven above
To Break every chain that toyed me to the dark
Break every chain that locked me away
Break every chain that cut deep within
I hold my pains so long within
I cry out to you Jehovah
to unlock these chains of my heart
Break the spell that was put upon my soul
Break every chain that kept me down so low
Break every chain that beat me night and day
take the rode and beat away those lies
IN The Power Of Love
my heart holds the truth of you
The whispers in the morning
of the angels that watched over my soul
has prayed night and day
to keep a light upon my path
where I know deep within my heart
there is a love that is stronger than the dark
when lovers sleeping tight throughout the night
there they will hear the rolling thunder of my cry's
As they will look outside
they will see the light that shines on me
that Jehovah is taken the chains off of me
I hold on to my broken-down body
And I feel each move of my bones
make way for healing of my soul
Jehovah your voice is warm and tender
you hold compassion over my soul
Your Love I could not forsake
this is no dreams of heartaches and pains
you open my eyes and showed me I am truly alive
I am a lady dressed in white
Whenever you reach for me I will always be near
I'll do all that I can to show you I care
Lost is how I was feeling lying in your love
but you clean me up like one of your white doves
When the world outside gets too strong for me to bear
you wrapped me up in your care
That's all I need is to know you love me
when I'm with you in your care
I know that no one could ever take that away from me
even though there may be times
It seems I'm far away in the cloud of gray
But I will never wonder where you are
because Your love is with me even from far
you are always by my side day and night
for the rest of my life.
- Judy Emery © 1989
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery

You have a gift
Yet it remains unopened
It is the door you think is locked
But the key is in your heart
If you will only look at a stranger
Or a friend
With eyes that see
Them
And not yourself
For once open your eyes
So too the door
And compassion begins
And so too art
For to describe a life
Suffering
Bleak
Courageous
Whether through a written word
A color
Or a sound
Simple put
Or drawn
Or felt
Not to amaze
But instead to open the door
To another life
Is to give a gift to someone else
The one you found for yourself
The one in every heart

I am an artist, painting smiles on faces,
Bringing joy to the world, filling empty spaces.
But on my own canvas, a different scene unfolds,
An unpleasant surface where ink rarely molds.

It's ironic how I bring color to others' lives,
Yet my own canvas remains untouched, deprived.
The brush hesitates, unwilling to leave a mark,
As if my own existence is lost in the dark.

But perhaps there's beauty in this untouched space,
A rawness that holds a different kind of grace.
For the canvas that yearns for color and ink,
Can inspire empathy, making others think.

In my imperfections, there lies a unique art,
A vulnerability that touches deep within the heart.
For it is through our struggles and untold pain,
That true empathy and compassion can reign.

So, as I paint smiles upon each sad, empty face,
I find solace in knowing my own canvas holds its place.
An artist with an unfinished artwork, it's true,
But a story that speaks, creating a different view.

Behold, you tower of imminent collapse
obscure, picturesque obelisk
dishonest monolith, ironic cairn stone
call yourself behemoth, you mammoth
an affront to the primordial gods
who stir this civilized cauldron and lick the soup bone
how you've metastasized, between two lines
so very fine, you walk the edge of Occam's own
what with the sticks and mud and rocks
brass and iron locks airtight, you cut this Pangea into pie
cover the faces of your clocks and walk away upright
with your cute, morbid curios of olde
the missing link- frozen somewhere in the Arctic cold
carnival amusements for your half-pennies, hay-pennies, hayseeds
you pay, a slithering mass observes your compassion on display
tailing the predicted demise of a cosmic appraisal spans Twain the temporary sun
massive panic in the wake of this poisonous gas from fireball's past
that with held breath, eyes do not turn away

The hairless ape is cleansed of knuckle-dragging to the bipedal standpoint by,
baptismal in a pool perfectly still, reflecting back the boundless stars of a frontier sky
as calm beneath the surface as the shuddering, shimmering lake
a soul can search throughout all time in that most restful sleep;
and be unable to keep everything it has learned once it is finally awake.

Tossed, turned on the bed
Thorns of thoughts kicked him
The hues of his unseen palette
Flashed him with thundrous beats
Injuries fade stealthy
Wounds never heal
The pain lose apart
Imprints maintain kin
Staggered he to the balcony
Smoking out waves of moans
A devastative despair and agony
He said in the lowest tones
" I loved her terribly, passionately
I lacked the courage to erupt my feelings
First I lost my life, then my friend
And now my foe
Should I grant my life second chance again
To bury deep into the insights of compassion?
Being loved again?"..

What if mother Russian woke up
From her nocturnal terrors
With rank clouds lifted
From delusional eyes?

What if she met the new dawn
With a fresh vision
Of what her nation could/must be?

What if a vicious, vain man
With lust-filled imperial eyes
Were no longer a
Curse on his people and the world?

What if the shade of
A newly passed seer
With a broad port-wine stain
Were to suddenly rise from his tomb?

He’d adopt a new name
For a newly shaped realm
Where truth and compassion
Are traded like ruples.

He’d hack up blood - soaked swords
And exchange them for tractors,
Planes and renaissance tools
And deliver war criminals
To somber halls of justice.

The clouds of despair
Would be scattered away
By the vibrant sun at its zenith.

A gladdened and grateful world
Would take deep breaths
Of the fresh air of peace and health
That a new Russia surely could bring.

What if?