"empath" poems
I chose ice-cream
Over yogurt;
Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate.
Each equally without prejudice
Attracted.
The fifteen year old server
Was kinda short;
The vanilla tub had about three scoops
Remaining,
Stacked hidden like frozen snow-balls
As in war games.
His task would have been daunting
And embarassing,
And I, a humanitarian
From higher education,
An altruist from St. Joseph's,
Could not allow it.
The chocolate tub
Was yet covered,
And the sobbing child's cries
Were hardening in my ears
As Dad tried to allay
His chocolate tears,
Applying the five second rule.
I am an empath
By nature and poetry,
So, turning from chocolate,
Left me strawberrry.
Triple scoop too.
I believe
You thought through
Your choices
Like flavors of ice-cream.
Being imaginative,
I do.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Childish eyes see deep into me,
they know me,
they understand me,
understand what I'm going thorough,
what we are all going through.
They were the eyes of an empath.
We knew each other before and we will know each other again.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
The feelings around me.
My empathic workings.
Screws tightening when he walks by me.
He's angry.
The world
Is nothing but a ball filled with anger and sorrow.
My fellow empaths.
Are here to help.
And none of you know it.
What a weird place this is.
It's dark and scary room.
Is nothing but a scream.
Will it get me through to my next lifetime?
So I can be one of the empaths working the healings and feelings,
Of my fellow friends.
I'm an Empath.
And nobody...
Knows..
Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 3:15 AM UTC
I empath...
In paths
Cross paths with your path..
Can't hold the weight...
Of your freight..
And the pain that I take..
For I care like you care..
Yet what I bare you can't wear..
How unfair..
I can't leave my weight upon your shoulders..
To fester in your dreams at night..
So who cares..
When your awaken in the middle of the night
By someone else's nightmares
Empaths...in paths
Of pathological Struggle...
Become pathological..
The internal bleeding..
Of a empath..
Turns them psychopath..
The opposition.. For balance...
The mental.. Is like a dental ****
Flexible protection..
Until it meets a sharp end..
And Then......
Depression seeps in...
And it'll take more than kumbaya
To regen..
Its the like sin.. I can't escape..
When its wrapped around your neck like a cape..
But what saves you from yourself..
When you need help..
From every one else..
You see I empath
In path with you...
Do you empath
Or bring me down too..
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
I'm probably going to
Annoy you, and
You're probably going
To read my text message
That is way too long
And write me off
As a girl who
Talks too much.
Cares too much
Thinks too much.
I'm probably not
Your type
Because girls like
Me,
Believe people should have
Hearts like mine.
But being an empath is hard.
People are afraid
To be broken.
They pretend they are hard
And push away those
Who are soft,
To protect themselves
From everything they are
Running from.
Dont stop being soft.
Soft hearts will change
The world.
Your heart is beautiful.
You are beautiful.
Wait for the one
Who sees you
For all that you are.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 10:49 PM UTC
Marooned land-locked
on island earth
Born with an orphan’s
unknowable ache
Born with an empath heart
– always feeling too much –
mystic receptors wide awake
in a highly sensitive soul
It’s as if I've walked along
forever alone,
one step at a time,
lost in a restless nebula
from the earth to the moon
Consciously dreaming
to steal away,
bearing the weight of the sky,
upwards over the mountain,
away from these chains
that bind
The maelstroms echo
behind silenced, probing eyes
with an unsated thirst
to be wanted
dead or otherwise:
Never understanding
the reasons why,
spinning around in my head;
where "once upon a time"
was hidden,
buried alive
A lifetime spent trying
to unlearn the things
I wish I’d never
sought to know,
clinging to the love
I've touched in my life
evermore enwombed
in my heart
Passing milestones:
walking another barefoot mile
passing so many locked doors
without keyholes
– way outside the lines –
Choking on all
the latent words
lay fallow,
left unsaid
Always looking for
something dreamt
but seldom manifest
Growing so tired and weary
with no one standing by my side;
no one to lay down beside me
to take a rest for awhile
Just another chapter
in a timeless same old story;
another dark star
burned – out
– vanished –
into the utter obscurity
of a sky so close and yet
so far away...
Jesse Stillwater ... August 22, 2018
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 7:21 PM UTC
It is the greatest act of courage
to remain soft in a world so rigid
Only the fiercest of us will
plunge into the depths of emotion
Illuminating even our darkest corners
for everyone to see
This is not weakness
This is vulnerability
And if love is the greatest
force in the universe
Then maybe strong is all
we ever have been
And all we ever could be
-Shakti o.m.
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
The heat and oxygen course through your lungs like a temporary flame
One sweet dull second of numbness
All they can see is an empty vessel; an unstained body, with from the looks of it, not a care in the world
But they are simply decomposing from the inside out
No doubt, they will be a platform of overt despair by the end of the night
The sight will give a writer something to write about, an empath something to cry about, and a lover something to worry about
Destruction is infused in every cell of their body
When it comes down to choice, there is not one
It feels to them as if the days inevitably, and relentlessly, cease to end in the immense amount of pain instilled in every ounce of their being
Dreading tomorrow as if it's a terminal sickness
Once you have lost hope, it seems there is no fire left to burn
The time that they have left in the world will be filled with cheap cigarettes, Irish car bombs, and lifeless friends
Closely comparable to a dying tree; close to expired, and still so beautiful
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
My light has to be hidden from each and every walk of life;
it is a target for the darkness and strong emotions of others that are rife.
My soul is too deep and fragile to be torn apart time and time again,
by impassioned people who end up causing unintentional pain.
I am crushed by the weight of the universe.
They say to be an empath is a gift - but to me it feels like a curse.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 4:22 AM UTC
these days a lot of
people call
themselves
empaths
They claim to be able
to feel what
other people
are feeling
and suffer with them
"I cheated on my boyfriend
with his brother," some
girl said,
“and being the empath
that I am
I started crying along
with him when he
found out. It's hard
being such
an empath."
And there was
the guy
who got into a bar
brawl and
knocked another guy's
teeth out
and held a hand to his
own mouth and made
pain noises
I guess he
was an empath too
If you have a
social media account
and don't describe yourself
as an empath
people will think you're some
kind of monster,
a psychopath, they'll compare
you with ******
Yeah, it's a good
reason not
to use social media
If you actually
needed another
Mar 17, 2022
Mar 17, 2022 at 5:02 PM UTC
I was a chaparone at the All Hallow's Eve dance.
Listening to the band play Halloween faves,
and watching the eyeballs floating in the punch.
The background decor, seems made for Doomsday.
Grungy, haunted house theme, hellish ghouls,
Gargoyles gone mad, witch's brew, and bats all aflutter.
Here and there between the goth and the empath,
a psychopath roams, silently stalking his prey,
amongst the frightening selection of costumed kids.
The mental resilience to survive such horrors,
depends on your grasp of reality. Realizing the lights,
the music, the garish dress, meerly decor for this night's festivities.
And yet, underlying this ghoulish fun, a sense,
a sense of doom, and ********** by something
otherly, stalking its prey, seeking that single moment.
To bring to light in the dim, ghostly haze,
a wickedness yet unknown to those attending.
That ever vile teacher, bent on making those around her suffer.
We have all seen her, stride the halls purposely,
Giant mole on her chin, Ruler in Hand.
Striking fear in the strongest of souls.
That authoritarian of witches, Ms. Nasher the Head Basher!
Run for your LIVESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 4:53 PM UTC
*Remember when we used to play-fight on your same kitchen floor as mine
My little empath, I am so deeply sorry
I was your cruel filter which made me go blind, and to not realize how much further pain I had brought to you, I did not mind
You will always be mine, my beautiful empath
Your hair so much sunnier but your soul darkened from my distance
Your restless, enticed passion which breathes heavily in your eyes, I beg to return
If only I had listened to your beautiful cries, my sweet empath
We may have had another chance to find our young hearts again*
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC
WHY
Why do I feel so angry as I stand behind an angry man waiting for a path to exist across a busy street.
Why do I feel such sorrow and pain as I sit next to a morning widow on the bus.
These emotions are not my own,
But oh how they consume my entire being.
A man with a receding hair line sayes I am one of few.
Empath.
At first I felt relief on the new discovery,
But then I realized what it meant my emotions,
My being was just bits and pieces of others.
I am a collage of the left overs of others.
I am a sad patchwork doll.
Why must I be so strange and grotesque.
My body and mind see no boundaries,
We see what's inside of everybody.
I am fake I am not myself,
but a bit of everyone.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC
*In his breakthrough work of channeled literature, I Am the Word, author and medium Paul Selig recorded an extraordinary program for personal and planetary evolution as humankind awakens to its own divine nature. I Am the Word is an energetic transmission that works directly on its readers to bring them into alignment with the frequency of the Word, which Paul's guides call the energy of "God in Action."
Paul was born in New York City and received his Master's Degree from Yale. He had a spiritual experience in 1987 that left him clairvoyant. As a way to gain a context for what he was beginning to experience, he studied a form of energy healing, working at Marianne Williamson's Manhattan Center for Living and in private practice. In the process, he began to "hear" for his clients, and much of Paul's work now is as a clairaudient, clairvoyant, channel, and empath.
Paul has led channeled energy groups for many years. In 2009 he was invited to channel at the Esalen Institute's Superpowers symposium, where he was filmed for the upcoming documentary film Authors of the Impossible. He is the subject of the feature-length documentary film Paul & the Word which will be released late summer, 2011. His workshops in 2011 include Edgar Cayce's A.R.E. in New York City, the Jungian Center in Vermont and the Esalen Institute in Big Sur, Calfornia. Also a noted playwright and educator, Paul serves on the faculty of NYU and directs the MFA in Creative Writing Program at Goddard College. He lives in New York City, where he maintains a private practice as an intuitive and conducts weekly, channeled energy groups.*
Personal and planetary evolution- Live channeling with Paul Selig
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAgh2pXDDls&feature;=youtu.be
Waking Universe With Guest Paul Selig
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7BI0Lgb9Kk&feature;=youtu.be
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
Its your
its mine
no wonder
inside
there booms
the thunder
its yours
its mine
I do see
inside
the sun
so shiny
its yours
its mine
it is clear
inside
there falls
silent tears
its yours
its mine
that is why
inside
the walls
past gone by
its yours
its mine
thats it
inside
haywire
gray static
its yours
its mine
I do care
inside
of me
you to share
Nov 14, 2009
Nov 14, 2009 at 6:23 PM UTC
There is a person
who feels what others feel
it can be a gift
it can be not
There is a person
who knows if you are lying
it can be a power
or you tie it into a not
They hate crowded places
they have too much feelings
it gives them feelings too
i used to not believe it
i used to think it was special
but its all too real
i am an empath
And i am very scared
Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
An empath and a mirror walk into a bar
and the empath says
I see myself in you.
*Let me buy you too much wine and
kiss your collarbones and
twiddle my fingers on your skull.*
and the mirror says,
*Yehoshua (what a beautiful name)
Yehoshua, the prophet. I am so tired
of doing the right thing
My knees are sore I
want
my field of poppies.*
So the Prophet says *You can rest in my field
if you let me know you, the parts you keep
tied to your hips like bells, or like weights
that clinking prisoner's hymn strapped to your chest.
Know that I know you, even
the parts you left unsaid (Especially those.)*
He says
*I want to have
my parents' strength.
I want a stranger to ***** in my bed.
I want to crawl into your head and hurt you with
your reflection. Open up your mouth and
I can put the words in myself, but I can't promise my
tongue won't taste like 20 years of forged metal
(And I
can't promise every pretty girl in town doesn't have
my metallic tinge behind her teeth.)*
(So she says)
Why can't you stay still?
(and the Prophet says)
I'm always running late
(and she says)
I've stopped running
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 4:32 AM UTC
An empath
Just a ProSonderer
Nothing more
But quick to learn
every human’s soul
will be instinctively felt
just as the breeze flows
through that open window
A soul
it’s wandering to your heart’s beat
on rare occasion it deviates from the tune
nothing more
—Because you don’t acknowledge
its existence yet;
Could you truly expect to progress
in finding your soul’s mate
when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?—
A pair of souls is always made from a single star
so when you find another
that renders your talkative self speechless
or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter
Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder
that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache
when you're longing not only at midnight
but in public midday for that other
if its a flame
that just won't fade
no matter how long you stay
tell yourself to not push this one away
you're not in danger anymore
let that person breach your barricades
allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways
you'll soon stop automatically
encouraging them to go
the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door
chances are you'll find
nothing's worth more
then an empath finding their
lone star soul in their own time
And as a sondering empath
I understand having that
(impenetrably
-fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch-
translucent but sporadically opaque)
guard with others
Seems like a darkly humored folklore
a normal person’s usual day
is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion
but when you meet that one
you won't just understand their soul
you'll have a brand new reading
and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing
just remember there's a first time for everything
when that someone intuitively understands you.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 7:14 AM UTC
i overthink.
i over love.
i over feel.
i am the sea
or i am nothing.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 2:06 AM UTC
there is something inside of me that breaks
in front of every broken person out there -
and if you can find me one person that's made it
through life without being broken, well then,
my earth might just crumble where i stand -
but like i said, it's as if i mirror them,
like their emotions crawl inside of my heart,
and start to occupy my mind, and leak their
way to my tear ducts and my mouth and my limbs,
and i lose control of it, i lose it
for that brief moment, a piece of them lives within me
my sister and i are the empaths,
that's what they like to call us anyways, but
i'd like to believe we're human,
that we should all share and feel each
other's pain so that we can sleep
at night knowing we're never truly alone
i wish i had realized sooner that feeling
isn't weakness, that i didn't need to
hide something we all share, instead,
someone whispered that message to me
in slumber and i woke up with the idea
in my head thinking it was mine
as i begin to unravel ego i realize that
my ideas have been circulating for
longer than i can conceive,
and the more i meditate on the notion
the more i realize that i've just got to
keep the current going, keep stirring
that *** and send the ideas on to
someone else who might be able to
find sustenance within them
i've always known i'd be a nurturer,
but i never thought i possessed the
nourishment people needed within
the fibers of my very being, that we
all possess just what we need, what the
world needs, it's already inside of us,
waiting for someone, or something,
to draw it out
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
Your inferior intellect disgusts me. While I have some trouble verbalizing my own, I know that it is far more than what you display. Your immature actions and juvenile conduct will get you into trouble some day; real trouble. You may not even notice, because you are too stubborn to face the fact that you aren’t a goddess. You have bad intentions and wicked tongue. Your fuel is jealousy and your eyes are blind. But we’re both growing older, and one day you will realize that everything I’ve done has been good. Or maybe you won’t realize - if not, I will pity you, but I will have no mercy. We all have a choice. We all choose who we want to be, and I’m not disregarding DNA; I know it plays a role, it plays a strong one, but we feed on experience, and I expected better from you--of all people.
You’ve been put through the same evil that you construct. Why? I only want the best for both of us, for everyone. You seem to differ. I’m not sure if it’s selfishness, envy, or determination to make a point, but it’s something. I’m not sure of its irrelevance to our confrontation, but I sure as hell know that it is irrelevant to anything else. So, why? You know as well as I do that we all have our different skill-sets, different opinions, and different incentives, so if you’re trying to prove something, stop. You know the human can’t be tamed once his or her mind is set in place. You’re apparently set in stone. Maybe I am too, so do you understand now? You can’t change my mind. I will do as I please, just as you will. We are a lot alike, you and I. The only difference: yin vs. yang. And you know I’m right. Your inadequate hands, reaching out, just so someone will notice. Well I notice, okay? But I will not submit. Neither will he. So, please stop. I understand your apathy and your care, but is it genuine or is it all a lie? After all these years, I feel that I should know the truth, but now I feel that I don’t know you at all.
I’ve watched the change creep up your spine, and I don’t blame you, completely. I know the storm has been rough, but don’t you know that it covers the whole sky? We’re all getting rained on and all you seem to care about is your own umbrella. Sure, you may hand it to me every once in a while so I have a bit of cover, but I know that you’ll be retrieving it soon, just like always. I just hope that some day the sun comes out for you, because I want that for you. I want you to be okay. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy. I want your interference to cease. From one empath to another: I know you can feel it. You know you can be better. I’m not sure if it’s fear of failure or simple carelessness that’s getting in the way, but something is. You can control it. I would never intentionally disrespect you; you’re almost like a sister to me, an older sister. So start acting older. You have a substantial amount of potential in this life. All you have to do is let go of all the negativity and you’ll be set free. Just like me. I love you, so please understand.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
I never had a care for myself,
as long as I felt alive
and did survive
I never strived
to protect my shell of skin,
until she pried me from within.
For, although I still felt numb
I lay, for once, undone
before the one who prompted
love's bittersweet curse.
The one I could not reverse,
nor find a remedy,
to stop my pain to you
from me.
When I am cut
you bleed,
and when a burn
scorches my thick hide
and guilts my inside,
as I watch you suffer for my sin.
I hurt within,
as you writhe from a blow dealt by a kin.
There is no graze or scar
upon my body which she has not felt,
no beating I have dealt
upon myself
which has not gone to her
twicefold.
My heart burns cold
at the blow that she,
loveliest of creatures,
was dealt
me.
But, you see,
I've accepted that yin to my yang you must be.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Look who's found who
Look who stole you from your rest ...
And in believing, we cheated death
September's fall is warm and crisp,
on the road and on the path
I could make you an empath.
Introducing empathy.
What do you owe me and I owe you,
Or do we own it all collectively?
I'm not a healer
Let's forget about the stealers
I thus am nearing apogee.
Have to write this poem for you.
And me ...
Introducing all that blooms into our home.
While the tribal does a dance of revival
And we're harvesting (what's sown).
When I see you
through the windows open wide,
A watched *** never boils.
But 7 kettles resonates.
We all go away some times,
But your picture's in my mind
so when I'm many metres away
Even then, I cannot stray
I go and climb the tallest tree.
I sit and wait for you and me.
Introducing empathy
Introducing empathy
Introducing ... you and me
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
I once was a colorful little girl
and I had big blue eyes, and I still do
the only difference is now I wear black
so much that they’re not blue anymore;
they’re gray
and I guess that’s kind of fitting because
I feel gray all the time
I feel as though my soul is being ****** out of me
from a straw and the juice box is labelled depression
Everybody looks on like I’m a car accident;
Scared, doe-eyed, unsure if they should call for help
I yell at them not to, but in the same breath I whisper “please do”
My biggest fear is myself and I’ve burnt all the ropes
so I can’t fall from grace
Not that I was anything close to being graceful while I was still vibrant
“Old soul” they whispered
“EMPATH” they taunted
But how long can the seven year old girl with the 98 year old soul
and the sensitivity to others feelings care for others without losing sight of herself?
How long can she read others’ emotions before she stops reading her own?
Before she stops feeling her own?
Not long.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 9:21 PM UTC