"gratefulness" poems
sometimes things that are so amazing, so wonderful…
can confuse me.
the emotions fog up the window
(my brain is clouded with thoughts)
when the fog clears, there are beautiful
blue butterflies flying around
(um...how’d they get there.).
that’s what confuses me.
could those be the same butterflies
from my stomach that
makes me nervous around you.
or are they a pigment of my imaginations,
feelings that aren’t true and made up.
(a soft warning of pain to come)
(an assurance of how beautiful i really am)
(a demon ready to devour me)
what is it.
i name this little blue—
confusion.
she’s beautiful but quiet.
maybe i need her company.
eventually the truth will hit her
instead of hitting the window
(my brain is a pane of glass).
you can leave this dungeon, papillon.
fly! fly away with your gratefulness!
be free!
(my imagination runs wild
like these butterflies)
freedom awaits.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:23 AM UTC
Derartu, Haile, Tirunesh
Kenenisa, Meseret, and all
With a similar footfall!
Displaying a superb
Long-distance athletic feat
When many superstars
Awe inspiringly you beat
And as a result of it
When your sought-for
Fought-for
And nation- prayed-for
Dream proves a hit
And also with kudos
A stadium full of people opt
You to greet
And when spectators
Accord you a high five
It is for your country's flag
You immediately dive!
Also on the podium
while Ethiopia's row-wise
Green,Yellow and Red
Emblazoned flag,
Shoulder high,
Soars above
You express
Your umbilical cord-tight
National love
With tears that
Trickle down each of
Your cheek,quick.
Is it because
Reminiscent of
Each living hero
With a life sacrifice
That brought colonial
Aggression to zero?
Is it because
The bounty of the land
You grew up
Seeing first hand?
Is it because
The cherished corner
You cut in the heart of
The poor but prideful
Ethiopian neighbour?
Is it because
The unity in diversity
That showcases
Ethiopia's identity
Or citizens hospitality?
Is it because
At heart strings a tug
Or ,among others
Gratefulness to
Your iron-strong lung
When you hear
Ethiopian anthem sung?
Is it because a secret another
Deep down you harbour?
Is it because the Fertility
Hope and Sovereignty ideals
The flag advance,
Also Ethiopia's being
A beacon of independence
What is more
The nation's renaissance
Which in a curtain of mist
Before your eyes dance?
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
I see through that deathly daze of yours.
I see the opportunity,
The regret, the heartache, the gratefulness.
You told me that you weren't sure,
If you are happy you get another chance,
Or sorrow-filled because it isn't over.
Those words broke my heart.
So I left this whitewashed room,
Of demonic devices,
And went to my car.
I wasn't sure what I was doing,
So I sparked this cigarette,
Put it to my lips,
And let everything go.
I looked crazy, I could tell.
Punching my steering wheel,
Crying like you were in a meeting,
With the coroner.
I opened my glove box,
Saw my antidote,
And swallowed.
I dried my sorrows,
Picked up my hope,
Locked my insanity in my car,
And slapped this smile back upon my face.
I couldn't let you see me like this.
I couldn't let you see how upset I am,
Not with you, but with your decision.
You have enough on your mind.
I return back to Hope's deathbed,
Give her a smile to assure her I am fine,
And crawl into the bed next to her.
Back to reality, I sink.
Only to be stolen from sobriety.
It's easier this way.
I feel nothing.
I'm numb.
Numb as usual.
But this time, body matches soul.
And not another tear shall be shed,
For the worst is over...
And for us all,
Recovery commences.
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 3:17 AM UTC
gratefulness is the gold fillings
in your cracked porcelain skin
recognition of your brokenness--
not the brokenness itself--
is the beauty in imperfection.
white ripples across your surface become
golden seams. the tectonic design is
a topographical map of scars and stitches;
the adherence of
traits that don't otherwise connect.
"you are beautiful," he tells you as
he kisses each mark softly,
his lips tracing a winding path through
your gardens.
it is not his words that make it so
but they settle just the same
reminding you that it’s not the cracks
that make you glitter
but the gold with which you fill them—
forgiveness
grace
and love.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 2:25 PM UTC
the sky is a mellow orange and
my heart is fuller than it’s ever been
an overwhelming sense of gratefulness
washes over me like the waves onto the sand
looking over at you i realize that in this moment
i have everything i’ve ever wanted
everything i’ve ever worked for
i am finally content with who and where i am
life is still messy but it’s perfect
it’s authentic and it’s beautiful
and there’s nothing else i need but
to sit here with you listening to soft songs
and soaking up the smell of the trees
mixed with the ocean breeze
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Though down many long, sometimes crowded,
mostly lonely roads
of life in seasons spent, in the dreams
and memories, bittersweet in plans and schemes,
you, of one, and of some of a few,
touched my life
forever,
and you still now do,
with your hand outstretched,
I take it and in gratefulness,
thank you for your friendship,
and graciousness,
and though the road still before me lies,
it's not so lonesome with
you by my side.
__________
Inspiring image:
http://beautyineverything.com/5357912558
Jan 16, 2011
Jan 16, 2011 at 9:14 AM UTC
Kindness is not nice.
Nice is soft and inoffensive.
Nice is easy and effects no change, it's cotton wool - not stuffed tight, but just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or trodden into a muddy disinterest. Nice is a damp whisper, a mouse cowering in the corner, taking up as little space as possible, lest it be noticed, lest it presume too much and cause a whisker of offence.
Kindness isn't like that -
Kindness pushes in, claws out, quick and heavy, uninvited, unexpected, taking pleasure in disturbance, in leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in its pursuit of creating a disruption of difference. Kindness counts everyone a target, anybody a likely candidate for a three act matinee and evening performance of loud Kindness. Surprise is its currency, smiles its language, common humankindness its passport to lands yet to be explored, to vast red territories with drumbeats of gratefulness for the opportunity to march in with regiments of compassion and to leave a signature devastation of brutal Kindness.
Kindness is not 'nice'.
Kindness is loving awe-ful.
Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 3:37 AM UTC
i still am trying to hold back my tears as i write this down. i thought about on my way home and debated with myself for a good 3 hours and decided that i have to write this, if not for people, for myself.
i visited the ward as a visitor today. it felt weird to be on the other side of the door. it felt weird to be on the other side of the glass, and it felt weird to look into the eyes of someone i once knew.
it hurt that as soon as i walked through the open doors, i hear the screams of a man speaking in a language i did not understand. it hurt to watch him being pinned down by 2 men almost twice his size. it hurt to watch his mental pain being temporarily stopped with physical pain.
it hurt as we started talking. it took almost every ounce of courage inside of me to hold my tears back, because i knew that me crying would dampen his spirits and affect his recovery. and i knew exactly what that feels like.
it hurt to sit back and watch him explain his illness in terms i knew far too well. it hurt to hear him say " stay here, you would understand this more than anybody else. " it hurt that i understood. it hurt that for that brief moment, i didn't want to understand. i didn't want to be in there. my legs were shaking but i listened anyway.
it hurt to hear him explain how the electricity worked and hurt his jaws. it hurt to tell him to be strong, because i knew how much it would take out of him to just try. it hurt that he cracked up jokes in the middle of our conversations, i didn't feel like laughing at all.
it hurt to watch so many people suffering from illnesses they never asked for, it hurt to watch so many of you suffering from the pain you don't deserve. it hurt to just sit there and not be able to do anything about it. it hurt.
but it hurt because it wasn't my place to feel hurt, it was yours. it was your place to scream and shout. it was your place to cry and break down into a million pieces.
but it hurt because you couldn't, because in your head you are fine. in your head, you're at work. in your head, none of this ever happened. in your head, 20 cops didn't restrain you. in your head, this is a perfect world.
but it didn't hurt because i knew deep in my heart that no matter what, the way i feel about you will never change. the strong, courageous, brave, joyful, kind, happy man that i grew up knowing will always have a place in my heart. no amount of ect's and antidepressants will take that away.
so thank you, for opening my eyes to all the pain in the world. thank you, for making me understand that there is greater suffering in the world. thank you, for teaching me the value of gratefulness. thank you, for educating me, even if it was through your suffering.
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 11:06 AM UTC
I should be ecstatic
I should be breathtaking the second I walk
into the room with you
I should be full of effortless perfection and captivating laughter
I should hold you like the rare gem you are
polishing you, weightless by your worth
I should weep with sweet gratefulness over our stunning photos
and memory keepsake moments
I should be a beauty queen rolemodel
exhibiting class and coordination and intelligence
I should be ravishing in your love,
a kaleidescope of pinks and yellows and magic
I should be bathing in the taste of your devoted kiss
and sunning under your Carribean embrace
I should be a blonde hair blue eyed American dream
Instead of a
Miserable maniac that can't even write a ******* poem.
Instead of a terrible daydreamer,
bored by the periods at the end of your sentences. . .
Instead of a tarnished transient seeking foolish adventure
Craving endless oceans, cliche flight humor, and saving
animals I didn't even know existed to begin with
Instead of a jaded view from every set of empty eyes
Instead of an indulgent *******
that wants more than this terribly wonderful life
that you've offered me.
I really should.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC
Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round!
Parents first season us; then schoolmasters
Deliver us to laws;—they send us bound
To rules of reason, holy messengers,
Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow ******* sin,
Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes,
Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in,
Bibles laid open, millions of surprises,
Blessings beforehand, ties of gratefulness,
The sound of glory ringing in our ears;
Without, our shame; within, our consciences;
Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears:
Yet all these fences and their whole array
One cunning bosom-sin blows quite away.
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In the hand that only asks, wants and takes
There is little room for gifts
So I expect none.
In the mind filled overflowing with self,
Pleasure and the moment
There isn’t space for gratefulness
So I won’t look for any.
In the heart that sees itself abused in the midst of cosseting
There is no quarter for love returned
So I’ll not hope for that.
In the soul that locks itself away, a willing alien,
There is no inclination to give
So I go empty-hearted.
****
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 12:52 PM UTC
No, heart, no brains and no courage
Friends, Romans, Countrymen lend me your hears
Allow me to introduce the Queen of Truth
Your majesty, you are the fairness of them all
Such an honor to be your Lord Chancellor
Thus, I beckon your call
Your highness and sweet gratefulness
I take great pleasure
In serving you, my lady
Indeed, I am at you services,
Day or night, and
Your wish is by command, and
I wish you longevity
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
Kindness is not nice.
Nice is soft and inoffensive.
Nice is easy and effects no change, it's cotton wool - not stuffed tight, but just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or trodden into a muddy disinterest. Nice is a damp whisper, a mouse cowering in the corner, taking up as little space as possible, lest it be noticed, lest it presume too much and cause a whisker of offence.
Kindness isn't like that -
Kindness pushes in, claws out, quick and heavy, uninvited, unexpected, taking pleasure in disturbance, in leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in its pursuit of creating a disruption of difference. Kindness counts everyone a target, anybody a likely candidate for a three act matinee and evening performance of loud Kindness. Surprise is its currency, smiles its language, common humanity its passport to lands yet explored, to vast pink territories with drumbeats of gratefulness for the opportunity to march in with regiments of compassion and to leave a signature devastation of brutal Kindness.
Kindness is not 'nice'.
Kindness is loving awe-ful.
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 2:01 AM UTC
You've been my biggest fan, my ever-glowing, shining light
Showing me the way and how to do what's right
There are those that wonder, and ask me where I get my strength
I get my bravery from you, someone who would go to any length
I am the man I am because you taught me how to be
Without your love around, I do not think I could be me
These words may seem small, and they don't say what I want well
My gratefulness for you is something words could never tell
I thought I would try to write at least a couple bars
It is the least that I could do, for the woman made of stars
Whose heart has traveled galaxies; whose soul has traversed dimensions
I know that raising me was difficult, yet you always had the best intentions
Though the evenings may turn dark, there is always light in the dawn
No matter what happens, or where I may go, I am blessed to call you Mom
You say you love me to the moon and back, and I love you to Mars
Please consider this a birthday gift, to the woman made of stars
Jul 17, 2024
Jul 17, 2024 at 4:43 PM UTC
birthdays are funny
people gather
and give you presents
just to celebrate another year of your being.
and it's strange to think
that people actually care enough
to write you cards
give you scarves
or other handmade things
just because it signifies another year of life.
but i love my friends.
and i love the people who surround me
and i couldn't say how i got so lucky
to have them all in my life.
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 8:57 AM UTC
In her,
nature
a seed
planted by her mother
one
she wouldn’t feel
until the first
of womanhood
inside of her chest
in bloom
a well of gratefulness
a rooted inner compass
a quiet
but awakened
awareness
a feeling
to trust
but no substitute for love
but enough
enough to show her
it was possible
how sweltering heat
could be rainfall
how seasons
and time
could be here
and gone
the world
was waiting
the sun
held all aglow
accountable
to living
expected not to shy away
when she herself
was giving
"Omit outwards",
she said
"Radiate like me
attend to your senses
let wind be a tide
to rush against your skin
to rub the nape of the neck
to cool the temper of your breath
let my darling,
grass
be a place to rest
climb up
on the shoulders of trees
or just
sit beside her
and feel herstory
firm
beneath your feet
foundation
for every path
for every choice
you chose to walk
and listen
to the silence
as night begins to fall
go to sleep feeling
the day was but a dream
everything sings in you now
your heart is wild
and beating
and all the world
is a mirror
of that inner feeling
where she finds
in her,
nature
is breathing.
-
July 24th, 2013
(a poem inspired by the title of a writers group I am in. )
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
This is the last time
You will hold me close
I cannot return
Though for you my heart will always yearn
I cannot express
The extent of my gratefulness
For your unending love
The laughter you brought me
The warmth you filled me with
I hope that life treats you well
In Gods presence you always dwell
I have never been good at goodbyes
I cannot help but cry
I never have the words I want to say
They never come out the right way
So just know how wonderful you are
That you have a special place in my heart
Please never forget me
For I could never forget you
Because darling,
You will always be in my memories.
Oaxaca Missions Trip-2013. Thank you for leading me back to Jesus. Always in my heart, forever in my memories.
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
O lovely chance, what can I do
To give my gratefulness to you?
You rise between myself and me
With a wise persistency;
I would have broken body and soul,
But by your grace, still I am whole.
Many a thing you did to save me,
Many a holy gift you gave me,
Music and friends and happy love
More than my dearest dreaming of;
And now in this wide twilight hour
With earth and heaven a dark, blue flower,
In a humble mood I bless
Your wisdom—and your waywardness.
You brought me even here, where I
Live on a hill against the sky
And look on mountains and the sea
And a thin white moon in the pepper tree.
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I see through that deathly daze of yours,
I see regret, opportunity, and gratefulness,
You told me that you weren't sure,
If you're happy because you're here,
Or glum because you're not at deaths door.
And that forever breaks my heart,
So I left the demonic devices behind,
And went to my car.
Sparked a cigarette, put it to my lips, and take a drag,
Here's to the worst night I've ever had.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:18 AM UTC
My loyal wife is gratefulness.
My brother in-law is patience.
And when they are away at night,
Melancholy is my mistress.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
"Someone else has it worse!"
**Thank you for making me feel better
Cause, since someone else has it worse I should be happy now, right?
My problems don't exist because someone else has bigger ones**
Because someone else has it worse, it gets rid of my problem?
I'm getting the feeling each time someone says that, they believe that saying that makes any problem disapear
Because please,
Please
Why must I always find joy or gratefulness in the pain and suffering of others?
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 3:29 AM UTC
How can all the cities be filled but yet the world feel so alone?
Sometimes the desolate feelings swallow me whole. The other times I'm reminded of the vapid space between me and the feelings of meaningful connections I miss. It sometimes makes you feel unlovable - a desperate cry for recognition. To be felt in a way that says, I see you clearly. Text messages unanswered lead to late night sobs trying to remember I can't be the only one missing humanity and feeling less than here. Depression creeps over in the next room to let me know I am not alone in this. Social media has a twisted way of reminding me the world still turns even though mine has stopped spinning. Some days I just want to say I am here, maybe just existing but I am here. Ready to tell you I miss you. Ready to hold your hand; any hand that reaches back out between me and spaces of my heart that feel like an oblivion. Ready to do life in a way that says I'm happy to be here, to be with you. To be in a moment that feels like I am finally once living again. To be in a space that says your presence is felt. To be loved for the sake of just loving. I once read quote that said 60% of Americans report feelings of loneliness... For just a second I feel a slight relief in the pressure. That I am sharing something with someone for just a moment. That selfish gratefulness is all that hangs between me and nose.
I am not alone in this even though the cities are filled and once again my apartment is empty.
Sep 5, 2021
Sep 5, 2021 at 12:25 AM UTC
What makes a weeping willow weep?
For it is beautiful
That is plain to see
So what makes the willow weep?
Luscious green leaves
Draping ever so carefully
Down to tickle the grass
Wind blowing through the branches
Like the longest hair
That would make Rapunzel green
So why does the willow weep?
The willow with cascading leaves
A waterfall of green
Creating a beautiful getaway
Behind its falling leaves
Why does the willow weep?
Creatures they scurry
To and from that green curtain
Frolicking and dancing among the green
Little children play little games
Hiding behind the leaves
A lovers first kiss
Hidden in the privacy of the willow tree
Why does the willow weep?
With beauty surpassing
And gratefulness overflowing
Why does the willow still weep?
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
we weaklings
were weapons of warmth,
lulling, sanctifying,
losing ourselves in orbit,
in constellations of opticals,
and oh, how the voices would
rise from below us,
and my, how the fires would
fall all around us,
but it was always you and me,
wrapping ourselves in freedom,
speaking naught of love,
only acceptance in hopelessness,
and gratefulness at each others'
words and actualized souls.
Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 12:49 PM UTC