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Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
well..
                                                  with the English
being so: oh so
                        ******* welcoming
i'd rather be remembered
                                              as a full-throttle
                      wanking rather than
a raving-ape's worth
of ᛈ ᛁ < ᛏ ᛋ (kap c! kap c!
                Cierkiev uno bud!
i uno buda!
                                                        Rrrrrr'am!
                serpentine's clue)
   Chernobyl charcoal,
or as some like to keep the
entertainment checks:
             a loss...
the famous Krakow smog...
                          leftover chimneys
to blame...
                            i don't
need a paddy to teach me how to
behave among the Anglo...
                             the Anglo who
lost his way among Germans and the Norse...
                 when the Russian Empire fell...
because one cousin said to another cousin
cussing: to hell with you!
                                    i don't need
a paddy for that...
   the paddy can play chequers and
river-dance till the nymphs come home...
sure, the paddy can do that...
           on arable land the paddy can what
the paddy must... mustard tatties...
             believably edible...
                                you know,
every man has his limits...
             my limit was agitated,
the paddy ate k.f.c.,
          and i too said to him:
               well, it's a two way street...
               you empathise with me
i'll empathise with you...
      you don't empathise with me
                     i'll see you in the sewer
and call it: the rats' livelihood worth of nibbling
     a narrative of the black death
worth a Madam Tussaud's examination
for worth of anaesthetic... torturing wax...
                  of all the islander tribes,
the Welsh are docile, the Scots
are: who invented copper wire?
to Scotsmen arguing and pulling a copper
two pence coin apart,
                      North Irish is Yates -
    "south" or republican is
              Joyce in Paris... Dublin
        and the thought of dungarees...
                      why the **** did i ever become
    involved with these cousins conjuring
        fake birth certificates?! why?!
i don't belong here... my motto still stands:
          among the Faroe Islanders
and the Orca slaughter for the red sea!
              the English were humbled in Germany
and never to be seen in Sweden...
     with Germanic roots...
the English are an embarrassment in
Scandinavia...
                        better sun-tanned propped
in Iberia...
                            or the call:
Hindenburg! Hindenburg! Blitz! Blitz!
  drink till you fiddle with your ****!
               up d'er balcony and
         somersault like a whale in a belly-flop
pose into the swimming pool! ploooooop!
belly splash and the beetroot suntan pinch
                      of cancer (zodiac alias of crab);
forever brother v. brother,
               as ever... a civil war...
               i actually celebrate the
unwelcoming nature of the English...
                    because i know they're
what the Turks say of Saxons: pseudo...
           the English can be English in Iberia
and what the Greeks say to be:
a reason to think...
                                  but if ever they were
found in Scandinavia
                                 they'd be frowned at...
mind you the Americans are worse...
                      they deem it necessary
                    to talk of conquest to invoke jealousy -
               i'm as jealous as you are
readied to rear these *******...
                                     but since you're not...
i don't know why i need to know what
                      cubicle *** is like...
                                     i don't see the point...
          my narrative is complimentary
   to what most people shouldn't say
                          but feel obliged to do...
but since they talk about it... i'm writing an answer
to what they're supposedly not supposed to do...
         otherwise, why talk about it?
my ex-girlfriend's favourite motto? good for you!,
well, it's exactly the same...
            why do it, then speak of it,
why not just do it and keep it shut?
                               unless you're looking
for a confession booth and a priest...
i wouldn't be looking for a madman
                and jealousy... to be honest:
what could become: 20 hail Mary's penance,
could easily become 20 stab wounds to the throat;
                              just saying.
Liz King Nov 2014
Did you think a kiss
would buy my everlasting affection
that you only needed to caress my skin
and I was yours for life?

A woman needs a man with soul
one who knows how to empathise
who can hear her speak
and leaves her feeling whole

Hands and lips
have a lot of lies to answer for
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2011
Lines of life through gene transmission
When handed down through *****,
Tho’ rugged, sound or sickly matched,
Are caste about like coins.
Luck ensures a robust chance
Of longevity and health
With intelligence or dolt hood
As a final gauge to wealth.

Traits of blue eyed, fair haired lovelies
Brown eyed, freckled, long of limb,
Temperaments across the spectrum
Placid fat to fiery slim.
Aptitude to run the long race
Good endurance, depth of heart,
Lady luck decrees their worth
Tho' the Priesthood may depart.

Frontal lobes of clear retention
Heightened rationale of thought,
Reasons through the problematic,
Resolutions made as ought.
Capacity to empathise
In tears of joy and sorrow spent,
Capacity for true belief
When wrong is righted with repent.

Goodness and black evil
Are caste about like chaff,
Depends upon the show of cards
Who laughs the final laugh.
Conscience can be virtuous
But then, so can be greed,
Depends upon the circumstance
And if approached at speed.

And finally indulgence
Plays a massive hand in this,
For love and lust determine
If a union is remiss.
And should that union founder,
Should Lady Luck throw in her hand
...You can blame it on the chromosomes
Which confounds the Makers stand!


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
14 June 2011
inez Jul 2013
I am so sick of having to go to mass to please my family who will not accept me otherwise.

I am so sick of having to walk down the street covering myself because men can't de-sexualise normal human body parts.

I am so sick of the arguments of sexism, racism and overall discrimination.

-if someone accepts you, great.
-if they don't, grow a thicker skin and rise above.

I am so sick of being afraid of things like trying new food and roller coasters that make me feel as though I'm missing out.

I am so sick of being so extremely misanthropic that when someone says they can relate to my sadness I get angry that another human believes they can empathise with me.

I am so sick of being told what to do with my life.

I am so sick of not knowing what to do with my life.

I am so sick of acting like I know what to do with my life.

I am so sick of my life.

I am so sick of myself.

I am so sick of looking at my features and scrutinising them.

I am so sick of being alive.

I am so sick.
kevin kilby Aug 2015
can you tell me how you feel because I don't know can you tell me how to empathise because in me it doesn't show I am trying to bridge a gap that seems to never be filled people say your agsagerating and if you want to change it's in your will but I can't change the way god put me together the storms never go away it's just ment to be wethered I am trying to be adaptable to  societies demands but I am only one man autism is stitched together like a quilt there are many shapes and sizes and can't seemed to be mended and are anger turns to guilt we are few and some of us cry out to be understood and some of us can't but wish we could theres no answers to the mystery of the disease  all I ask is that you listen so you can see
Astha Sharma Feb 2012
Feet, bare and blistered, skin- tanned and tortured.
age- sparse but spent,
On the road to misery.

Is it so hard to care?
Share a sip of our drink, can't we?
Will relieve that soul that ran dry.
And humans for goodness sake, we claim to be!


Feelings- heard and unheard, heart- broken and trampled,
trust- built and collapsed,
Leading to death - now literal.

Is it so tough to not remain oblivious?
To not know how it feels,
Not like the Sun never turned away from us,
But only a human could empathise, and only humans could heal.



Senses- worn and withering, gait- slow and painful
Life- lost but left
Fading to a lifetime of memories.

They were family since you could speak, and walk,
and eat and grow up to be,
on your own and  up till you could mock at them now,  
Won't you be family, when it's your turn at it?
Ashwin Kumar Mar 3
I thought you cared for me
Because, your words had always conveyed that to me
I was supposed to be your best friend
However, our relationship, you decided to end
You said you were my sister
But you left me feeling rather bitter
Because you cared only about yourself
And left me hating myself
For something as minor as a Facebook comment
Never did you have any good intent!

I thought you cared for me
But it was never "we"
It was all "you"
Our friendship had no value
Because you were obsessed about yourself
You and your anaconda sized ego
Which you could never let go
You and your precious Mumbai Indians
Were the only **** sapiens
Who truly mattered to you
Apart from your "bestest friend"
You, would he blindly defend
As though you were a Nobel Prize winner
While you were actually a sore loser
With an extremely domineering personality
Masked by a deceptively sweet tongue

I thought you cared for me
But you never let me be
Because, all that mattered, was your precious image
Often, would you take umbrage
Over relatively insignificant matters
Such as me not marking you present
When you were LITERALLY absent
No wonder, did you have your haters
Because, YOU came before everyone else
Never did you take a pause
And empathise with anyone
In fact, YOU were everyone!!

I thought you cared for me
But you never truly cared for anyone
You thought you were a special someone
Who deserved all the attention in the world
On the other hand, often did you fold
At the slightest hint of pressure
Though you were so sure
That you were always right
Oh boy, never were you a pretty sight!!

I thought you cared for me
But you never took the trouble to understand me
You called me your best friend
But I was nothing more than a means to an end
Because you were a narcissist
And as a friend, one of the worst
Seriously, accepting your offer of friendship
Was nothing short of a mishap!!
Anyway, you will get what's coming to you
Your friends will eventually leave you
And then it will be just YOU
Left to fend for yourself
As you deserve to be
Because you are so obsessed with yourself
However, the world is for all
It's time you learned that
Once and for all!!
Poem dedicated to a narcissistic former friend of mine from my engineering days.
I am afraid
I am alone
I am unknown
I am labelled

Labelled 'Damaged'
Did I damage myself?
No, fate did that
Can I atone?

Atone? For what?
A disease that differs for one and all.
I know what I am, but choose not to
take the moniker, 'sufferer'.

Yes, I hurt, I tire, I cry, but
I cannot explain, and you,
you cannot empathise, you
don't have MS, the broken smile.

I look whole, but I'm a jigsaw
with a missing piece. That piece is
peace. Peace of mind, peace for my
loved ones, peace for me.

I know I'm a person, I know I have MS
I know I'm loved, I know I'm a *****
I know I'm part of a family, daughter, sister,
aunt, niece, cousin and most importantly Wife.

I will be whatever the fates decide.
I will not be a sufferer.
I will not give up.
I will be loved.
© JLB
We know what we are, but not what we may be.
William Shakespeare
Through voracious eyes devotees, peruse writings, clever literature all styled to thoughtful poetic ways
eloquently, exposing wounds of body and soul, discovered distrust, anger much regret, sadly even fear,
thereto shortcomings in life, of people, their actions, loves and lies promulgated in illuminating phrase.
Technology endows contributors with outlets for venting suchlike occasions using artistry is here.

Passionate poignant experiences most well written, some not are duly shared to attracted communal eyes.
declarations of 'I have cared so much I'm wounded mortally', some bask in lost or unrequited loves last kiss,
several employ inner strength 'whatever happened, I don't care, I'm resilient, I survive', shared with poetic pride
concise verses rework obvious reminders, may motivate suggestion that opportunity shouldn't be missed.

Modest words abundantly profound begin remarks that reassures, with the - I'm here for yous'- symbolic embrace,
in support it is written, 'I know what you mean' and from a great distance - empathise, but I have little to say.
Health issues aren't fixed by artistic pennings, only face to face professional advice forms the strongest base,
Writings from the poetic inner self  may become positive steps, for futures not, staring in depressions face.

Much is written with sensitivity oft-times is judged by content, overlooked is why and how it is composed.
For instance suicide  educes fear however. dubiety invites, is it fiction or truly despair?
Writing as an art observes, describes, creates imagery, of sadness and joy, escapism, fictional or no.
Poetic creators who web-wide commune through stories, thoughts, secrets, ideas, dreams, let the poetry be shared .




Poetry www    Michael C Crowder 12th  January 2019 @scorsby
my thoughts about poetry its content and writing skill
Ashwin Kumar May 19
Am I really self-centered?
Well, certainly am I not selfish
Always, do I help people in need
And you definitely cannot accuse me of greed
For my family, cousins and friends
My love and care has no end!

Am I really self-centred?
Not boasting, but am I kind
And loyal to a fault
Certainly, am I a compassionate adult
And do my best to empathise with people
As far as possible
Including even those who don't deserve it
Because, I know what it is like
To be ignored or laughed at
Hence, are there certain jokes
For which I do my best
To keep a poker face
Since, I do not appreciate insensitivity
After all, known am I, for my sensitivity!!

Am I really self-centred?
Yes, there are certain times
When I do tend to be self-obsessed
However, not too often do they come
In fact, often has my heart bled
Even when it was not required!!

Am I really self-centred?
Well, many a mistake have I made
However, always do I apologise
And give people space
I don't repeat my mistakes either
Because, truly do I care
For the wellbeing of others!!

Am I really self-centred?
Many a time, have I cried
Even for relatively small things
Doesn't that tell you something?
The fact that I care a lot
About other people's opinions
Should ideally show, that I am self-centred, NOT
In my life, have I learned a lot of lessons
And, over a period of time, changed for the better
Hope this at least provides the answer
To the question I have been repeatedly asking
Genuinely sorry am I, for all the time wasting
However, I am sure you would have understood by now
As to why and how
This issue means so much to me!!
Poem where I introspect - as to whether I am self-centred or not.
Cat Fiske Mar 2016
__

*I can't give you my trust,
I can not get close to you,
I can not let you hold me even when I wish for you to,
I can not let you show me how you love me like others used too,

I struggle when I listen, or try to concentrate, to the things you say,
I struggle to communicate my feeling back to you in the same way,

I sometimes feel like I'm too demanding of you,
I don't know how to do the comedies of a give and take,
I feel like I sometimes only take, and leave a burden on top of you,
I constantly feel guilty for what I do to you, I feel guilty for the things I do,
I get to have you, but I am not worth someone like you,

I hope I don't hurt you too bad, on days when I am too sad,
I sometimes need to relax and detach. my dissociation won't last forever,
I know I am not perfect in this world that is so dull and grey, but I try,
I each day, have tried, I empathise more then not,

I am sorry more then not, like the fears I cry tears over,
I wish I could overcome them, I wish I could stop avoiding my past,
I wish I could forget all the bad, make memories that are good and will last,
I can't remember day to day tasks, and I can't remember anything un-sad,

I wish that when you told me things I could understand it better,
I wish I handled things better, learn to fix them on my own,
I wish I didn't depend on you for help, but I wouldn't if I could fix it myself.
I wish I stopped staying in bad places and leaving the good ones I find,

I want to not act so compulsive with these addictions that surround me,
I wish I could get rid of the overlaying grief that hangs over me,  
I wish I could move on from what has been taken from me,
I want to stop letting it exhaust me,

I am tired, but never sleep, and to sleep wouldn't help my tiredness,
I tried to sleep with you and lay down next to you wide awake,
I wish I could of been sleeping as peaceful as you,

I feel plagued by all my bad memories,
I want them to go away, because they only make it harder for you,
I know you don't love me, I know at least you shouldn't love me,
I worry that I worry you, and I don't want you to be worried about me,
I feel like you deserve more, and better, and should get it.
I want to protect you from the damage I can put upon you,
I feel the panic inside brews, and I can't rid myself from it,
I wish you would save yourself from me.

I get angry, and mad, and upset,
I do this rather then having an emotional shut down,
I hate that I lash out, I don't want to get mad at you,

I hate myself, I wish that I could love myself like I used to,
I take risks hoping that something better could happen, but it doesn't,

I feel alone,
I feel abandoned,
I feel rejected,
I feel helpless,
I feel trapped,

I know you left because you felt like this
I lost you, because of all these things,
I know what I did wrong
my ptsd ruined my relationship, this is a reflection
Her silence
Pierces tge ear drums
And makes introspective
equal easy
To predict her levee overflow
Is an art form
That many mouths water for
One must possess her
Body and soul
To truly empathise
With her
Tsunami
antony glaser Jan 2013
To see action through your Artillery,
your standing eyes betrays other emotions.
Longing to touch you
yet to see your through body,
form and no substance makes a stray bed of rest.
Craters of realisation  launch the chime.
What left have I,  having teased the lesion.

A crawling victim stands direction less, and having learnt,
I will disarm  your vague distractions.
According to lessons I call on regret and treasure its tears.
Surely past sufferers will empathise.
Mud and clay will wrap itself into an ointment
Then we can be reborn.
antony glaser Sep 2012
Whilst you daydreamed,
your eyes seemed to lose their sheen
and you'd forget  how to empathise.
You shut the car door hard
as  if someone who wanted
to aspirate closure.
We spent two nights at the Cooden Beach hotel,
so we could hear June Tabor and Oyster band,
proceeding this performance ,
we had our four slices of toast and an Americano.
Your pink canvas bag
and polished  stilettos
underneath the dinner table
hid an issue or two
playing a parallel game.
Thomas EG Apr 2015
I dare you to whisk me away
With those electric limbs of yours
Let's go some place
Where we won't be judged

Don't let them seep in
Under the door
Just ignore the invisible creaking
Surely it will stop soon

Do not be frightened
The wailing is not a killer
Not a knife in this hand
Nor a hammer in this head

Do not call me, do not whistle
I am no cat, I am no wolf

Hold your breath
Hang upside-down
Let me scare you, scare yourself
Shall I fetch a mirror?
Or would that prove to be
Just as useless?

Whining in the shadows
Ghost white and blood red
Scratch marks, no bite marks
What were you expecting?

Let me howl
I am no wolf
But you seem to be a moon
You shine so brightly, I swear
You are the cure
That I've been searching for

They warned me about you
Before I left
I never understood their worries...
I blink and you are gone
Back again
Is that your honest soul?
It's so grey
(I can empathise)

Should we still run?
Would you rather soar?
I don't like this idea anymore
You are too frail, too fragile
I will not love you like this
Tomorrow...
Written: 1/11/14. 100% puntastic !!
Cíara McNamara Sep 2014
I failed my mother – she failed me first.
All through childhood I held your hand as you wept –
You sighed and cried and denied a mothers love.

I was twelve when I sliced my first cut –
I weaved artistic patters all over my arm,
Each hack felt like a distorted piece of sympathy.

You have been cured for many years –
The disease was just passed, unquestioned to me.
You have never asked, or even glanced twice.

Last night I saw you crying –
Your friends’ daughter had cut – it was a tragic devastation.
Everyone was making plans, dinners, lunches, supportive hugs.
You went to help – to empathise like her mother never could.

I have never punished myself for attention,
It’s a sad and sick release from my insanity – for me.
You birthed me and gave me life, fed and clothed my pathetic body.

I know there is so much that I can never repay –
I know I failed to make you happy when I was young –
But why do you give this girl a mother’s love??
When all I have are forced hugs -
Patricia Drake Apr 2013
continuously surpassing
I know
my obligations
to some this may be
considered trespassing
I empathise
to the point
where I almost idolise
your fragility
and I sympathise
almost to the point
where I would follow
if you chose
to leave
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2016
The Universe was  molded for you and I to share
We are created with big Hearts so that we care
  blessed with flawless eyes so we can see the road
and the might it takes to lighten a neighbour's load
these feet are built tough for the miles to walk
we have developed brains to digest and think
and the courage to sail through life like we can never sink
we have these warm arms to tightly embrace
not folding fists, holding weapons to bring unrest
We are born with curiosity,cause life's an adventure
and a difference made by you is your presence in absensure
the beautiful teeth are designed to **** your smile
not to greet in unnecessary coarse envy and bile
our experiences are for us to inspire and tell
to uplift them whose lives feel like a living hell
the mountains and hills were built for us to hike
ensure each fresh climb beats your previous height
rainbows are hope after rain, pleasure after pain
why give up the struggle when you can start again?
the gardens of life are floret scented with consolation
for broken hearts trapped in the darkness of desolation
the scars are a testimony that wounds do heal
don't let a moment the rest your life steal
the starved hunter surrenders not when he has no ****
for the sweet glowing Sun often rises after the bitter chill
these ugly poems are penned to emphasise
that the beautiful souls are seeded to empathise.
leave your footprints in Hearts and not on sand
the dust in the heart holds firmer than that on land
so use your arms, feet, might, heart and soul
use your greatest possession for the good of us all
Rado Ram Feb 2015
I go to bed to dream, not sleep,
And awake to live, not exist.
I befriend to care, not enjoy,
And fight to free, not conquer.
I run to catch, not flee,
And listen to empathise, not advise.
Yet of all things in my future,
And of everything I will ever do,
You I shall love to cherish,
And not for my soul to lavish.
Ashwin Kumar Jul 2023
Let's say I am in love with Ms. B
Being a hypothetical situation, there is no need to use proper names
So, here it goes
Dear B,
You mean the world to me
For you, I am willing to do anything
That is, of course, anything ethical
You can rant all day as you like
I will listen, understand and empathise
I can be a shoulder for you to cry on
Your happiness, is all that matters to me
You lose your temper? that's fine
After all, it happens to me too
More frequently that you would imagine
You need some space?
Of course, I will give you space
I understand what it means
To be surrounded by people all the time
And thus end up losing the opportunity
To have some "me time"
After all, not only am I an introvert
I am also autistic
And too much talking often drains the hell outta me
Except when it comes to topics I am comfortable with
Such as trains, Harris Jayaraj music, food, Harry Potter
Agatha Christie ****** mysteries, cricket, tennis
And of course, anything to do with Aishwarya Lekshmi
Anyway, I will do my very best
To make our relationship work
I will always be there for you
Through good and bad times
Of course, that doesn't mean
That I will be overprotective
You must have your independence
I'm pretty sure you can take care of yourself
However, when it comes to a situation
Where you end up biting more than you can chew
You just have to say the word
And I will be at your side
You have a few male friends
With whom you are intimate?
That's completely okay with me
Of course, my best friend is a woman
You should be okay with that
Remember, it works both ways
Then, there is the sheer pain you have to go through
When it comes to having a baby
In order to avoid that, I am open for adoption
Or even test tube babies
Of course, only if you are okay with either option
Remember, I will always love you
Whether you are at your best
Or at your worst
However, I expect the same from you as well
As I mentioned earlier, I am autistic
Which means I am socially awkward
And also socially awkward
Though I come from a vegetarian family
I eat a lot of meat
Chicken, mutton, prawn, pork, beef
You name it, you have it
Of course, unfortunately not within the boundaries of my home
Also, my political views are often radical
For instance, I do not consider Kashmir as a part of India
And I am all for a radical redistribution of power
On the basis of class and caste
Such that the poor and the underprivileged get back what is theirs
In fact, what has been theirs for three thousand years
Also, though I was born a Hindu
I actually pray to Jesus
That is, I have been doing it for the last nine months
But I don't go to church
Nor do I follow any traditions or rituals
Jesus is simply a friend to me
I believe everything will work out eventually
If I place my faith in him
Finally, I am not interested in ***
Except as a means of reproduction
I need emotional and psychological intimacy
I will share everything with you
And I expect the same from you as well
If you are okay with all this
Then we can be a team
Until Death do us part
If you are not okay
Then maybe we can just be friends
If you are not comfortable with that as well
Then we are free
To go our own separate ways
On this note, let me end my musings
And return to reality
Self-explanatory!!!
Roseanna H Mar 2010
At school,
I sit and listen to my teachers,
And I wonder if they are happy.
Mr. S puts thoughts into my head,
I don't like it.
But I pretend,
so I do not 'fail'.
Ms. A writes words on the empty board,
I do not see them.
I only copy them down,
wishing that she would smile.
The text book I carry around,
burdens me.
I wonder how it can be so heavy,
and so meaningless at once.
A girl stares at me,
and her eyes narrow sharply.
Maybe she is angry at her mum.
Sometimes,
I look out the window.
And I imagine the wind blowing softly,
the sun warming my face.
Mrs. B claps at me,
a string of words following.
I feel like I am rotting,
never gaining,
always losing parts of myself.
It's always cold.
Other kids look just like me,
too.
When they pass,
I secretly miss them,
they could empathise.
I am shaken,
poked,
and kicked.
Then I am dead.
GKF Nov 2014
There was a time when rabbits were lions,
when I was a child,
I had a rabbit called Lion.
I left the hutch open and went to bed,
off he flopped into the dark cold night.
I mean, you can't discover much from a hutch
but Lion took one turn too many,
Lion got lost,
he couldn't find his way back,
Lion lost his bearings as jumped through the unknown world.
I can empathise with Lion now,
I think I'm one turn away from not being able to get back.
Anyway, Lion never came home
and now rabbits are just rabbits
- not lions.
And even if the sky
Were to fall flat
On my head,
I will never speak unkindly!

This is just who I am,
I feel too much,
My heart doesn't walk around
Blindly!

I've even sympathised
With those who are responsible
For my heart being broken,

I've blamed their bad behavior
On misguidance,
Or unresolved issues of their own,
Which they may have
That are yet to be awoken.

I over empathise and forgive -
I'm a softy, I can't help it!

I guess I know just how it feels
To be treated like a misfit.

Mamma always told me ...
"If you can't say something nice,
Then don't say anything at all!"

Unable to remain silent,
I chose to speak kindly,
Regardless of how often
I was repeatedly pushed to fall.

People don't always think
Before they act,
I've learnt this all too well!

The way I see it,
People's mistreatment of others
Is a reflection of their own time spent
In mental-hell!

I think I believe this,
It is all that keeps me sane,

At the end of the day,
If I let it get to me,
I only have myself to blame!

Life is too short
To be unkind,

Love is sweeter
And much more rewarding -
It nourishes the heart,
The body,
The soul
And the mind!

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
It really does!
***
Life's a Beach Jan 2014
I want to run to you
I always run to you

A child with arms
outstretched, cradling a
butterfly worn with torn
wings, it
can't be real until she's shown it.
Can't be good til you've
confirmed it.
Can't have beauty til you've
admired it.
It can't, you give it life.
Without your breath
She lies bereft.

I have to run to you,
before I believe that it is true.

A child with a wounded knee,
hides the scar until
you've seen it,
once you've seen it,
then she'll ease it.
Can't have relief til your belief.
Can't look unafraid until
she's prayed to you.
She needs to limp to you.

I have to reach to you.

She needs you,
she does not wish to tease
your weary temper,
but she finds it hard
to always remember that
she's shown you it before.
A puppy jumping through the
door, happily places a cat's
treasure of a broken bird
upon the kitchen mat,
it's beauty trapped within the
meowing
mind.

I'm purring proudly up at you

Thanks for being so kind to her
menagerie, sorry for
getting confused by
internal imagery.
I forget how quite to empathise
that,
I think I need to change my tack.
But, this girl is sometimes trapped in
a loop.

Reminder: Learn when to turn on mute
Leigh Apr 2015
.
Cardboard mattresses lining doorways;
a warning to avert your eyes
lest you be caught off-guard by throwaways
or made to squirm because you empathise.

A pinched sneaky glance at a sleeping bag
to see if a wayward vagabond there lies
A woman and child, or a greasy toerag
Probably a ****** laying vacant on high.

It is with pacified ignorance you accept this -
society's stunted stereotype, which offers no prize
for presuming your time's of more value than his
hers or theirs, a lost cause - the shivering exiles.

A person cold and damp remains a person
whether they smile or they stifle their cries
upon losing their place when matters worsen;
we can help, we can acknowledge they're alive.
.
.

I'm not usually one for rhymes but here we are.

.
Kris Prevel Jun 2014
Why are you so complex?
Why does covetousness never snooze?
Why stir emotions into a vortex?
Why inflict this mental bruise?

Must you always be larger than life?
Must you always overshadow?
Must you act like a desperado?
Must nothing in your life be adequate?

You don't see me frown
You don't seem to see, you clown
You don't seem to empathise
You don't seem to realise

Always it happens
Always it's happened
Always I'm sighing
Always I'm silently crying

Overshadow my quiet mind
Overshadow my sadness
Overshadow my gladness
Overshadow any recent find

Everything must jointly entwine
Everything must not be out-rightly mine
Everything must glow!
Everything does not, it's in your shadow

Why? Oh! Why?  do I end up feeling like a sideline?

Written
By Kris Prevel
June 2014
faa Jun 2018
A row of shoes were lined up,
Ready to be slipped on
Each pair unique, telling tales
It’s owner’s burden buried deep
their sufferings carried on

One of the pairs horribly reeked
Of long hours under the sun
Soaked with sweat and tears
That leaked from it’s owner’s eyes
And seeped through the owner’s toes
Exploitation and oppression
Tattered and slipper strings snapped
Which brings into question
Can we dare walk in those shoes?

Another pair was rather extravagant
Bejewelled, dazzling with rubies
The aroma of vanilla spreading
Through the radiant effervescence
Yet it held a vibe so ominous
Perhaps emitting unhappiness
From the riches that brought no glee
Which brings into question
Can we dare walk in those shoes?

Slipping your feet into a pair
crawling, walking or sprinting
Empathising in their shoes
Shredded from sufferings
Or stitched with threads of hope
What truly matters in those shoes
Is to understand with compassion
Gaining a glimpse of their wars
To interpret, understand and empathise
With “Verstehen” we can learn
And share our battle scars
Then perhaps, we can accept ourselves
And each other in solace
so let us ask ourselves, once again;
Can we dare step into their shoes?
"Verstehen" is a term coined by Sociologist Max Weber loosely characterized by three words; "interpret, understand and empathize", basically walking in someone else's shoes to understand them better. this poem was inspired by this very concept
Paul Butters Apr 2019
Feelings of fear, anxiety and hate
Served us well
Back in ancient times
When sabre toothed tigers threatened.

Those adrenaline rushes
Meant that we survived
Through taking flight
Or standing to fight
Like demons.

But in modern times
When physical threats are rare
(Though still too many)
We must Avoid
Such negative emotions.

For Fear can make you
A rabbit in the headlights:
Chronically anxious and depressed.
Or it can turn you
Into a snarling animal,
Snapping at everyone.

On both Arrakis and Earth,
Fear is the mind-killer
And little-death,
To be faced down
And then forgotten.

For we must, I repeat, cast aside
These negative feelings
Of fear and hate.

Instead we need
To nurture
Every budding
Of Love
Joy
Excitement.

We must empathise,
Be compassionate
Sympathetic
And Loving.

Above all,
We must Love.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\4\2019.
Emotions!!!
betterdays Mar 2014
WANTED:
one poet!
garret trained,
impractical in many ways,
scatterbrained, dark, mysterious.
and lovelorn.
must be at the very least lovesick.
not adverse to occasional starving and bouts of woe.
even able to adapt to living
in a continual cycle of manic depressive flux.
able to overcome writer's block...
and worse!....word drought
able to converse in both, straight and rhymed verse.
desirable; an understanding of
freeflow and rap
must have ability to write,
day as night and night as
day
must work for minimal pay,
read: mostly zero $$.
just occasional compliments.
should be able to empathise.
and in a position to consider (as a carreer pathway)
attempted suicide.
applications by way of
verse
can be sent to the reader
via the internet eather
and will be read of course
but be warned the reader
is fickle and may not deign
to reply...

hallmark cardwriters need not
apply
just a little fun
lol
Àŧùl Dec 12
Atul Subhash, I empathise with you,
This modern age is evil.

Your wife behaved narcissistically,
The judge behaved more so.

I can understand your situation,
And you're a lesson, an inspiration.

I won't ever get married, brother,
For I fear divorce, yes, I do.

Instead of getting married,
I'd rather get a cat, yes, a cat.

As for my monies, oh the dust,
I'll donate it all to a cause.

Animal welfare,
Medical research.

Somewhere useful,
But not in a marriage.
I hope that I'll be luckier.

My HP Poem #2034
©Atul Kaushal
Why is love so hard?
Its bites you with its piercing sting
It tames you with its frightening claws
Far beyond your power, once caged within

It hurts, when they hurt
you cry, when they cry
bleed when they bleed
and crumble when you try
to help them

because it makes you weak to empathise

Yet
with the force of a gale,
it stands
      firm against the wind

You have no choice,
no choice
     but to give in

It hurts the place in your heart,
             where theirs
    is cradled, safe

So you try to be soft
when they rage
Try to be sweet
when they're bitter

because you know they'd do the same for you
and to maintain balance,
for yourself

But
  this is the sacrifice we make,
                      the risk we take

and that's why love is beautiful.
I yearn to give you everything
That they do not give you,
I want to give you rest and comfort,
As I help you pull through.
If you need taking care of,
I'd promise I'd be there -
But you're so far away,
I feel like I'm not there.

Miles may separate us,
But in my heart I hold you close,
And if I had the chance,
I'd never let you go.

I spend parts of my days,
Planning out ways,
Of how to get you back.
I know you wouldn't mind it much,
But there's always obstacles in attack.

I think you are okay, or at least on the surface,
I have to make myself trust
That you are happy in that family,
That I've been taken out of.

Knowing from experience though,
It will probably hurt one day,
Or at least for the oldest of you.
And I will wrap you up warm
And try to empathise,
Never the less, I will try my best
To bandage it all up and make it the most it can be.

And if you wanted, I'd hide you away and bring you everything you need.
For me general daily things are hard, if socialisation's involved,
But I'd try my best for you,
Because that's what you're supposed to do
For the people that you love, for family.

Lately I've felt that they're stealing you all,
That they're cutting me out.
Our mother only wants me on her terms,
And that's not how it should be;
I would walk over mountains for you, you see.
I can't come to you, but I have tried getting you to me.

Still, I worry that one day,
You'll think I gave up,
You'll think that I left you
And nothing could ever make that true.
I will always try to do what's right by you.

I don't want you seeing the wreckage before you need to,
Before you can handle it.
I need to know you're safe, not sorry.
I'm starting to wonder here, if maybe I'm just being dramatic.
But this is some of the reason that I pretend or hide it,
With the act of being a somewhat good daughter,

Well really it's also because:
It's hard not to do the job when you're with her,
Almost as if it pulls something from me;
Like it's my fault for not having what I want,
And if I'm good in that moment I'll have it.
Except it,
Never comes.

I miss you four,
And I'll always love you more.

— The End —