"empathizes" poems
The purest sense of understanding that allows two hearts to move beyond the borders of the conscious, thinking mind.
Without the thoughts that twist the words, that distort perception; what is conveyed, is... is... unconditional acceptance and love. In this simple concept we find solace, we find connection, we reach the precipice of and stare in awe at the beauty of the humane soul. Everything seems perfect.
By this perfection, given face value, we draw the ever permanent distinction between what what is black and what is white; what is wrong and what is right; what is virtue and what is moral travesty. For inherent to humanity is the eagerness, bias and extremity with which we represent the good and evil of this world. For who would believe that the "caretaker", wrought of good intentions, could be soiled in his actions?
The caretaker that empathizes with the troubled or broken soul is a testament to the honesty of a human heart; but he who enables others with his empathy becomes not the caretaker, but the "jailer". Through his conviction to ALWAYS be there, to sooth the hurts, to understand the pains and to maintain control... by those actions, he belittles them. The relief of empathy is only temporary. Empathy does not enact change, it is mere salve and bandage, it quells the aches for but a moment. And when they return, in their woes, the service of the empathizer becomes requirement.
For though empathy may be needed, with the power to forge a bond of deep understanding, its indiscriminate use only stunts. Personal growth, it is found by many paths in this world. We must grow and mature; let others do the same. Life is a journey with many opportunities but also many hardships, we are defined by these. If we are stunted by the empathy of others, in their quest to protect us, we will never grow, never achieve that which is greater, and never leave our "prison".
Virtue or vice... once again in the hands of the beholder.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 2:04 PM UTC
The porch waits behind the glass
It empathizes as needed
I step on it once again
And smoke in its graces
A compress over the cliff
We aspire at Deveraux
once again to hear
the ocean's rhythmic advice
And I do wince, such a daunting way
upon the enraged sky
A tormented face
looking at impassioned ways
And now a visitor appears
another tormented face
under a gossamer spun
brazen reds opulent yellows
pale blues push through
as it unravels
with a photograph
Her porch vacant once again
Mine thankful of its owner
to give a futile roll of discontent
And once again we listen and gaze
And once again we inhale the salt air
And once I saw because I stayed
Four dolphins shoulder the sand
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
I've got the world's best kept secret
locked in 2 AM screenshots--
her late night musings over a crusty joint, a crushed pill,
or some ***** cigarettes.
She sends me her thoughts,
fears,
anxieties,
insecurities--
at her most vulnerable,
absolutely the most beautiful.
Her anguish stressed in the digital scroll
(though she doesn't like Kerouac, I let her borrow my copy),
her stained fingers mashing all their hurt and nicotine
into the keyboard--
and her pen aches and her paper stains
with the unrequited love she empathizes with
in the somber pop punk songs that explode from the stereo
she sings loudly on cold and lonely night drives
(I shiver in her passenger seat).
And she made for me the greatest of mixtapes,
her holy scrawl expounding upon a dull grey donut-shaped
slowly fading form of intimacy,
a blank CD--
"This mix is a good time"
and when I jammed it into my car stereo I was illuminated.
She is so cool, she is so punk,
and in her clandestine drugstore car charger thefts,
broken poems,
impalpable aesthetic,
impeccable music taste,
illuminated or even further obfuscated drug trips--
I have the world's best kept secret,
and more than anything, I wish to share it with you--
so she can make someone another mixtape.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
One day it will rain.
The soothing water will wash
away the sins of the world.
The sun will shine.
Its light like liquid gold.
Behold! The Miracle!
Pain erased, sorrow forgotten.
Tomorrow will cease to be as well as
yesterday.
Only today will remain. Nothing will matter;
everything remembered.
The SON OF MAN will greet the children of his Father.
Tears no more. The Human Condition restored
to what Father planned.
Thwarted by the KING OF LIES.
Won back by the KING OF LIVES.
Everyone bows. Mountains crumble. Lakes deepen.
The SON laughs at humility.
After all he is but a Man.
Humanity at its finest.
Though his Condition no better.
Like a shepherd he leads on.
The strays and the lost
He has not forgotten nor forsaken.
Though they have.
They are sorry. They see their mistakes wishing for a second chance.
Their tears
wet the path to
Damnation.
The river of tears flows.
Engulfed by the flame.
The Fallen grins.
He is happy.
Misery loves company and He is misery.
The Anointed cries with them.
The SON empathizes.
-They are human.
He leads them with his crook.
Their tears dry. The river a cracked bed.
The flames subside. Morning Star laments
-It's not fair!
SON counters
-And what do you know about equality?
The gate is open. The future awaits.
Brighter than the Luminous City up the path.
The Struggle is over.
Peace begins.
Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 8:32 PM UTC
When tears caress my cheekbones
It's rarely for my sake
This heart of mine empathizes immeasurably
For when another endures pain
My voice may not soothe
My written words unlikely to mend,
But my silent presence offers
Peace and prayer
Until your healing begins
© JL Smith
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 10:49 AM UTC
The darkness is everywhere
It tries to eat you inside for it doesn't care
It comes in many shapes and sizes
But it never empathizes
All it wishes is to enter your heart and infect your brain
Causing you to hurt everyone and go insane
It is something that will always be around until the end of time
And it's own creation should've been a crime
But it's merely a test
To see who is suited best
For this world is the game of the gods as the bet on the lives of others for their own amusement
Creating their own darkness for the enemies torment
Even though they do this and use all life as pawns
The game will always go on
But we can help each other in this game
For our lives equal the same
And even though the darkness doesn't effect me anymore
Your heart is still an open door
So do as I say
And everything is okay
And that is to look at life through the way of others
And try to help for we are sisters and brothers
And without each other to rely on
Our entire species would not last long
So I hope that one day you can take a look through the shoes of others
For you never know what has happened to another
And if you think I'm just spewing nonsense and a big ol lie
Try to remember what made you hurt and cry.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
It's a surprise
Or at least some dark form of it
when you find yourself distantly hoping
that the steaming water from a shower head
spraying the spirit of the sun and others alike
empathizes to such an extent with the flesh
that the heat radiating from the water,
liquid, evaporating freedom,
alights a fire of a more human disposition.
To burn to a counter-intuitive death
in a counter-intuitive world
filled with counter-intuitive people
while those who willfully express their care at the second of desperation
and not before
idle gleefully in ignorance.
Surprising.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
The furnace won’t kick on and my heart is sick. There is no purring or growling from its mechanical insides. The heater, not the heart. Poetry is the cupboard that won’t stay closed, it wants to show you what is behind its shanty stubborn door. The cupboard is heart sick too; with less romantic implications involved. Poetry is the robot that wants to be A.I.
That wants to out perform its human counterparts, and yet empathizes too much with warmly lit LED eyeballs.
Yeah. Sometimes that’s what I think poetry is.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
To ask for love would not be true.
Love is given freely, a soul seeking not its own.
A passionate pursuit that's never-ending.
The in-born desire to bask in the presence of another.
The thirst of more until you heart feels it might burst.
To delight in every little mystery unveiled.
To give without expectations.
To forgive the imperfections.
To question your self-seeking intentions.
To right the wrongs of your own inventions.
Love is to wait with enduring patience.
Love sees the potential and brings forth the superlative.
It is shelter from the cruelties of life.
It takes pleasure in honoring those it protects.
Love is time and it warms with affection.
It yearns only to be returned.
Its light exposes the truth of your very existence.
It conceives.
It breathes.
It believes.
Love rejoices in the little things, like a smile.
It empathizes with your painful circumstances.
It carries you when you've lost your strength.
It brings forth courage when there would otherwise be none.
It extends into far reaching places.
It changes even the hardest of situations.
Love fights for what is righteous.
True Love is not overrated.
Should not be underestimated.
Makes simple what is complicated.
Inspired by the triumphs of others.
Treasures its beloved far beyond earthly possessions.
It's grateful for opportunities it is given.
Its nature is pure and good.
It is a gift that was meant to be shared.
The world would be uninhabitable without it.
Immeasurable is its essence.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
you don't pay attention to me
empathizes with someone else
but not me.
I am a witness.
I don't want to be.
You are my friend, stay by me.
your mouth start moving
different sounds I can distinguish.
I see rivers that form slowly.
I see eyes glowing.
I see tired genes
stick themselves until you blink.
the hurt, the pain, the guilt.
I take your hand and you squeeze.
I feel a paper in your palm,
unfold is a poetry
so I start to read:
I enjoy you like a rainy day
whatever you do, I become delightful.
I'm so glad that I have you.
I'm glad that you smile and touch me
I'm glad that you read and walk with me
and I am glad you show me how you feel.
It was for him, you say to me.
you seem lost, I will not leave.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
.
It's crazy how the human race empathizes
We have to create imaginary relations to women, daughters, sisters and wives
It's crazy how we generate information into our database
From generation to generation, our thoughts are outdated
W e n e e d t o d o b e t t e r
To consider women as much more than ****** pleasures
W e n e e d t o d o b e t t e r
To recognize that without women, life cannot be birthed on Earth
And even if they can't provide life
And even if they chose to abstain from that path
There's no reason for you to disrupt the peace in their eyes
You just don't get to decide
Because women don't owe you anything
There's nothing in it for you, no feeling of entitlement
Women have the right to be considered as humans
And to live,
Free of your actions, your compliments and your comments
.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
I've stopped being beautiful quite a long time ago. Mirrors and selfies do not tell the truth; I actually like what I see. Little did I know the ugliness reeks from the blind spots and I shamelessly think it's the world who's at fault.
Forgive me, daughter, for I have sinned.
All I want to hear is an apology. I lift my chin and walk past the mother, idle as a bystander. I am a child bird, my beak is tired from breaking the shell. I wish I didn't have these wings. The nest is uncomfortable, I just want to touch the ground.
I have two feet. One thigh.
Ocean is my ancient dream. But all I got to taste was cold aloe vera. Hint of sweetness, eternal like a dentist's craft. I can't feel pain, so it must be joy, but why am I crying?
We got tired of the cries, the tears, the traces. It's boring, just like an authoritarian news. I don't think there's more to it. What you see is what you get.
I hide everything I can. I mask what I can't. That way, I'm never left with nothing. I hope so. I am so hopeful. I must be cured.
I fill my water bottle with starlight, but when it touches my mouth it takes away the wetness. My lips crack and I can no longer talk. I nod at the earth, and she empathizes.
A thing I can never do. My fingers still long for the colorful helium balloons. How many of it to make me float? I want to explode right on my peak. Cry for me, strangers. I want to hurt you in ways I've never imagined before.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
This body is my palace of water and dust.
It is my earth,
my whole,
my entire empire.
Contained within my skin is a world
of complex systems and relationships
too immaculate to comprehend.
I lay myself bare continually.
Exposed vulnerable and strong, I embrace the wind.
Flexible and malleable, I bend and shift but hold my
center--
somehow my center holds.
I contain every natural phenomenon,
and each of them contain me completely.
I see my reflection in the water and I am the water,
I see the bark on a tree and my skin empathizes,
I smile and my soul takes on the wings of the butterflies
and flirts with the leaping wind.
And you come in and you dump your **** in my rivers,
oil and chemicals polluting my veins.
You mine my depths for the gold and discard the soil,
you exploit my purity.
You ignore my warnings and pleads as if you don't understand my language.
You are the ones who don't believe in climate change,
as if facts were fiction.
You don't believe in your impact on my existence.
You carry on as if i am worthy of nothing but disposal
and exploitation,
as if i am not as intrinsically valuable as you are.
Do you not see yourself in me?
Do you not see your own reflection in the waters of my eyes?
Do you not recognize the similarity in our skin?
Our commonality in the blood that pounds like torrential floods
on the windows of our souls
reminding us that we live?
Do you not see the web of life that binds us
so intrinsically together?
We are as inseparable as inhale and exhale.
We need each other--
we are the same process,
the same breath.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
I need someone who's there for me
Through good and bad times
Who has nothing but love and respect
Someone who smiles and cries with me
Who not only makes me laugh when I'm sad
But knows how to make me feel better
And empathizes with my sorrow
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 2:51 AM UTC
Ambitious
Always looking to improve
Follows through on what he says he will do
Patient and kind
Loves my body
as much as my mind
Looking for a partner in life.
(not a token, soon-to-be wife).
Serious, passionate,
but knows when to let loose.
Makes me laugh,
his personality
eager and endearing;
his humor
absurd and sarcastic.
He doesn't ask what I want to do,
but if I ask
he'll be down to do it too.
He wants me to be apart
of his friend group.
He's charismatic but grounded.
My parents and extended
would adopt him in a second.
He helps my dad in the yard.
He helps me when I'm stuck
in a broken down car.
He's cute and insanely smart.
His kisses leave me weak from the start.
He always honest and upfront,
reflective about any harm he's caused
to anyone.
He's everyone's doorman,
but no doormat.
A attentive confident.
A best friend.
He is well-read
but can see
what's missing on
the page.
He isn't afraid
of what he hasn't read
or what he doesn't know...yet.
He's not a hipster
or pretentious
but isn't against kale chips
or anything equally ridiculous.
He has a passion,
maybe two,
but isn't so absorbed
he forgets
there are other things too.
But isn't just floating either.
He has some direction;
He is looking to inspire.
He's a feminist
and not because
it's PC and cool.
He empathizes
with the issues
and is interested
in talking WITH
women about them.
He's comfortable
chilling with my friends.
Even the most
difficult people
don't bother him.
He is healthy.
Does some sort of physical
activity. Loves getting physical
with me. Is not opposed
to going down on me.
But isn't like obsessed with it.
That's just weird.
Interested in actively
deepening our
physical and emotional
relationship.
For him,
everyday is an adventure
he'd love to spend with me.
He plans at least half our dates.
He rarely complains.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC