"kindnesses" poems
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"And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden
The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face
The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden
The summer breeze was blowin' on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden"
In the Garden,
song by by Van Morrison
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***This touches me deep in the chest cavity,
the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations,
a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and
accrue, the mood,
for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me
for I am but steps away from the garden,
and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes,
with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses,
touches,
caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying,
overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets,
for find myself at the intersection,
interlocking crossroads
where perfect perfection
begins and must
meet its natural endings
thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations,
all impossibilities, challenges,
see me, begging itinerant
muses
in the neighborhood
to guide my hand, teach me newsome words,
mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment,
hearing me solicit their
Treasure of Summery
Words
but they won't,
excusing themselves,
that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised,
all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity,
time insufficient to learn a new calculus of
addition
and bid me calm my heaving chest,
seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps
awaiting away
live in this moment
live within this poem,
revisit it frequent,
weep no more,
your stilling heart weakened,
take fast what is given now,
and be contented,
your treasury chest is full,
overflowing with this summary of
summery***
but I am not, cannot…
7:48:am
jul 22
Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
***A hard fact
That I've come to accept
With a heavy heart
Is that I can't help everyone
And though this upsets me
I know that if I do as much as I can
It's enough to make a difference.***
*I learnt this whilst giving my bit of change
To a small malnourished girl
Hoping it'd pay for her meal that night
Wishing I could do more I noticed eyes
Boring into my soul and looking up
I saw a man give the girl a box of sweets
Meant for his little girl waiting at home*
***And this heartwarming act I was part of
Led me to realize that no matter how small my actions were
They made a big difference.***
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
Compassion isn't just a word; it is not a sensation or a behavior. Compassion is a moral; it's a standard to uphold and live by. To be compassionate is to show thoughtfulness and to be caring to people. Being compassionate is to extend humanity a second chances, even if they may not deserve it. The kindnesses shown through being compassionate will extent; this kindness, though sometimes hard to find, is always there. To be compassionate is to be human; however, this humanity sowing is not just what the average person sees every day; it is the light in us, and is the best of what we can be. Everybody has times that they are down and just can't get up; the people that are willing to go out of the way to help these people out and bring them up are what I consider compassionate. Showing compassion can do a multitude of good things; these things being a chain reaction of kindness and love or something as modest as a start to a new friendship. Everyone at some time or another will do something unscrupulous; to be compassionate is to forgive these misdeeds and to give a second chance, no matter how undeserving they may seem. With compassion up held in society the world truly be a better place. The world would be so much better if everyone set aside differences, greed, the anger, the hatred and war; the world if we just showed a little compassion to the population would flourish and be a truly great place.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
we're such a benevolent lot
we give the Welfare set
our hard won dough
they sit on their *****
and do not a thing
while we're out working
for a wage
but our kindnesses
are being exploited
by the dole collectors
those ***** mothers
having broods of kids
and we hand them
our toiling quids
those kids
should be supported
by their daddies
let them get a job
and become
responsible
for their sprog
the Welfare system
is getting plundered
every day
by those who won't
get out and earn their pay
how nice
our honey *** has been
taken for granted
and bled of its generosity
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
a turtledove being
attacked by wild
beasts doesn't wait
to cry
out for help
or for You
nor do I
all I ask
for is You
to fight for
me since I
seem to be
too weak; You
and I have
been here before;
I have not
forgotten
Your
kindnesses
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
She was night when I met her.
The hills beyond bathed in moonlight,
though she seemed to hide from faint starshine
sheltered and hidden: wrapped in a mystery cloak
woven from fibrous shadows and dyed
in the deepest part of the ocean with midnight hues
untouched by the constellations.
She was summer aurora soon after her night.
I took her hand into the dewy field,
we reveled in the damp and softened earth
and the stars blossomed: points of bursting light
fixed among the twilit blue-greens
like the blinking bulbs of fireflies
who floated between our heads.
She was daybreak after her sky turned aquamarine.
The stars hid themselves under our feet,
the sun appeared on our horizon
and painted our faces in pinks and oranges: her hand
so soft and gentle, slipped from mine
trailing warmth against the flesh of my palm
where her fingertips kissed my skin.
She was high morning when the sky’s pinks faded.
I cradled her face between my two hands,
pressed kindnesses into her cheeks
and turned our noses to the sunshine: her celestial smile
played notes on her lips,
singing lilting aria in a rising melody
as the light radiated warmth across her face.
But now she is a rainbow in refracted afternoon.
She gleams in every color now her cloak is shed,
red in heart, orange in grin, yellow in mind,
green in energy, blue in veins, violet in spirit: but most of all
she is soft pink, pale white, and baby blue,
a harmony of hues
which she had kept hidden under her cloak of night.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
Let's all be honest... for once... let us all admit this statement...
Each of us has impaled a dozy pill of mistakes... inhaled regrets fragrant
A prescription of the many countless regrets... failures... and stupid moments
They come back like a drug side effect, attacking you as their opponent
Losing your sense of reality as you drunkenly laugh at the blessings
Numb to kindnesses touch as you roll off the couch of security... nervously sweating
Openly abusing the precious, pure body of wisdom... deaf to her rejecting scream...
She stood by your side... Telling you not to take another drink... not to get lost in marijuana's dream...
A foolish smirk sneaks on your face, your mind clouded by the vape and tobacco, blocking your judgment
Carelessly touching in all the wrong places... pleasurable? Your conscious shows no lament
Your lips are a bite... Your touch is a knife... your words are a poison... to not only wisdom... for it will backfire
You are finally evicted from Illusions hallucinations... you fell for such a devilish liar.
Your brain has rung the alarm to your entire body... memories of unwise choices bring head trama
A heavy alcoholic breath escapes your mouth of regretted words... full of gossips drama
You wobble on unstable feet.. and do not achieve your desired balance...
Falling to your knees... you see the blood... the tears... and the saliva of someone who is guilty... no use in using words of parlance
No lies can hide the guilt that clokes your face...
All evidence leads you down to your fate...
"Drugged and Drunk of Regrets" was the charge placed against you... then you were sent away
But be careful... Memories, thoughts, and feelings can lead your mind astray.
"Set them free... You have been given mercy..."
The Judge granted, without one drop of regret and worry
...Mercy... You have been given mercy for your crime...
So why continue to drug your self on regrets? It's not worth a dime!!
DON'T GET DRUNK ON THE PAST!!!!
THE OLD IS GONE!!! THE PAST WON'T LAST!!!
DON'T CONTINUE TO ****** YOUR THOUGHTS OF A HOPEFULLY FUTURE!!
I HAVE DONE THAT!!! DON'T BE HAPPINESSES CONSUMER!!
We all have been Drugged and Drunk of Regrets...
but the best thing to do... it to apologize... and forget...
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 1:13 PM UTC
Last night I dreamt for 20 years,
and life unraveled, picked into bare threads
before me. I'm still crying.
The beauty and love and trust
is so fragile, and betrayal
wins so easily. A small deed
or its absence will fester and ****
Last night I dreamt for 20 years.
Believe me, hold your loved ones
with every hug you can spare,
and never forget the kindnesses
each day bestows. For tomorrow
breeds doubt and amnesia, and
believe me, karma will bite you
in the *** Maybe not in this life,
but you will taste the bitterness.
And, oh, how its acrid decay
burns holes in the tongue.
Last night I dreamt for 20 years.
Even if you deny yourself
salvation, at least spare
the Others you (once) love(d).
Do this, and protect the
Dreamers, like me, from our
raining bleeding hearts.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
Gestures so small
Strangers from far away places
Making smiles from sad faces
Saving one from
Thoughts that drown
Simple kindnesses
Caress all of humanity
Whereby one keeps their thoughts
In the warmth of kindled fire
Small gestures
Treasures to hold dear
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC
Mayflies
by Michael R. Burch
These standing stones have stood the test of time
but who are you
and what are you
and why?
As brief as mist, as transient, as pale ...
Inconsequential mayfly!
Perhaps the thought of love inspired hope?
Do midges love? Do stars bend down to see?
Do gods commend the kindnesses of ants
to aphids? Does one eel impress the sea?
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do the stars
regret the glowworm’s stellar mimicry
the day it dies? Does not the world go on
as if it’s no great matter, not to be?
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose.
And yet somehow you’re everything to me.
Originally published by Clementine Unbound. Keywords/Tags: mayfly, mayflies, time, mist, transient, transience, pale, inconsequential, stars, sea, everything, A. E. Housman quote
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 2:06 AM UTC
A single day contained so many Journeys and the Stories
as if they were meant to meet.
And Baltimore,
you were the humble host
of all the Reunions.
Belgium,
Filling our stomachs and the time apart
Memories came to life and we smiled — Together
Sydney,
Talking to random seagulls between our conversations
I found a feather given by a fearsome friend
Geneva,
Learning how to pronounce a foreign word— Affogato
I imagined this is how life should taste
Yokohama,
Making fun of the sushi places hidden in the brick walls
My heart secretly traveled back home
Istanbul,
Discovering the colorful lamps
I thanked for kindnesses sent from different directions
Unexpectedly,
All the journeys took us back to the 5th grade,
picking up our favorites at a candy shop
— and I promised never to follow any strangers!
Baltimore,
You’ve taught me how it feels to grow up.
not being somebody else,
but sowing seeds in our moments,
good days and bad days,
— just like we gave a name and fell in Love
with every single corner of the Town.
Baltimore,
Let’s do it again.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 3:29 AM UTC
Our rabbit tails flicker
on the edge of the heat-rush
like making love,
a viciously tender blush.
Here we are, Running,
from useful death;
our needed kindnesses.
Nature’s necessary provocation,
starts the ride,
ensuring death for an ensuing life.
Our blood is fast and heated,
releases and builds the tension,
in ligaments, Quick enough
but strobing the scut.
We are also the foxes
and so forwards we must follow it,
just as the time follows
the seeping wisps on the horizon
of the un-risen sun.
Come live with us and dine,
so we may die, when we need to.
There is a reason for your greed.
Follow those sparking tails
pinpointing life
in the living grasses.
Smell the heat
through the dewy stems
and be what must be done.
Feed your children of every description
to end, a forgotten bone milestone
but with endless input.
Become the prey of your own actions.
The grass takes your meat,
fluffs it up with sun,
for the rabbits
each and every time, it’s time to.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 7:40 AM UTC
In the land of the wasteful
The flesh is bound to despairing
Unmovable feasts
All dreams dreamt away
In the shallows of sleep
As transient as blood
Orange shades of clarity
In the mind blindly
seeking sun
sincerity and kindnesses
Not those in the land
Of the wasted…
Pain is as hollow and as full as
The hearts of mannequins
When already the broken who pose
Now lets go, passed long ago
Since childhood's end
Not having known
To recognize
Or find oneself
In the beauty of a world
We played pretend.
In the land of waiting
For our sadnesses to end
Waking up alone
After all
In the land of ungrateful men.
(The kind have gone extinct
once again.
The End.)
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 1:23 AM UTC
You should practise joy more often,
it becomes you
and the radiance in your eyes
when you receive what others take for granted
is, for me, the greatest gift
and the deepest sorrow.
For you should not have to live on the crumbs
and these small kindnesses are your due,
what you deserve
not what you should have to crave.
I cannot understand how one so giving of her love
has received so little in return.
So, like a beautiful antique bureau that has been moved
too many times by careless owners,
your burnished mahogany heart
has been chipped and scarred and
my cargoes of love often find anchor in
a harbour of doubt.
My words may fall short of your hesitant ear but
perhaps your mouth believes my kisses,
your body believes my arms
and in my eyes can you see how your joy
begets my joy?
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
I read a spanish word and teared up because I knew I was feeling a feeling my mom felt when she was twenty. I mean-- she went to the dominican republic and she studied a foreign language in college. She was curious
and I am curious.
When people show me unexpected kindnesses, it makes me tear up.
What did I do to deserve this? and then I remember a little bit.
I wrote down a few notes for a paper:
the setting implies the corruptibility of female bodies.
I walked down the packed streets at night and applied that rough thesis
and it felt sad to be in what Steven calls a world of abstraction
and even now I sound like a liberal-arts university program ***** (I’m not).
I heard and just missed something fall from a tall tree.
I caught the tail end of the leaf debris, and wondered while
I read Ali Smith’s Hotel World, how many squirrels died in freak uppermost tree branch
falling incidents, and if it made a noticeable difference.
The scene, the scene is happening through temporality and that makes it seem empty
Sitting outside alone it is okay I am not the most important person in the universe
Now I’m working on holding all my adolescent memories in a loving embrace.
My ears also perk up at the sound of little kid voices.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
We are not rude and impolite
It’s the lacking of genuineness
The world has been so unkind
We refused to acknowledge the kindnesses
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC
My Darling,
Friends tell me we met more than half a million minutes ago.
But I noticed, before a few seconds had hardly passed,
That time was standing still.
In its place, a merged continuum of
Tender touches, love, kindnesses and gifts of presence
All indescribably nuanced, existed.
Before,
There were beginnings and endings marked by
An endless procession of sunrises and sunsets.
Now
It’s days of azure and crimson filled with
Winding walks, delicious dinners, long slow kisses
and careful careless caresses that stop only long enough for
us to visit our children, mothers, friends and work.
Before,
There was only myself.
A tree bending in a mighty wind.
Now,
We have the shelter of each other,
A holy temple, our haven
That shields and holds us safe.
Before,
I experienced only myself.
Now,
There is us!
A co-creation of meanings, moments and
Transformations into all things new.
My darling,
The once stopped clock may still be ticking.
But for me, time continues to stand still.
And that’s a supernatural possibility,
Available only for those who discover, that
Love is all there is.
And we have!
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 12:12 PM UTC
Let us think about the caring we receive
Each tender moment, small and large
From family and friends and even strangers
Kindnesses are no small thing
They touch our days with grace and joy
They refresh our hearts and souls as water does our flesh
May I always come to the wellspring of your kindness
Each tender moment, small and large
With head bowed in reverence for the beauty of what you share
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
What am I supposed to do
when you won't let me in?
What am I supposed to do
when you reject me again and again
And again and again and again and again and again
Don't you see, this is what love is?
Love is the tiny micro-kindnesses
Love is waiting at the door, waiting to be let in finally
Love is being afraid of rejection but always going back
Love is being broken, but always having room for you
Don't you see, this is what my love is?
You can call me a stalker at your lowest times
You can spurn me, hate me, despise me
But I won't leave you when you're sad
Because I'm afraid of losing you to yourself
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
It's the little things that seal the deal.
They make it real. Little things to small except to feel.
Like the way you stand and sit when you don't realize that eyes are on you.
The way you fix your mouth to speak a word. The sounds you make that go unheard.
The little things like small kindnesses that remind us what the heart can feel.
How your hands move when you speak or the way look from through your eyes that surprises me every time and leaves me soft and weak.
The little things.
The way you sleep
Like sweet secrets that you keep and share exclusively.......
Those things.
Those little things that are there..Your hair...Your chin;
your goodness even when the world is unfair.
The little things my dear.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
where in the sunlight all the dirt's dispelled
we take our leave then some will go to sleep
their blankets piled upon them in a heap
while in the forest all the spirits gelled
anticipating that when we excelled
at sport and art the answer would be deep
but nothing holds there's no place here to keep
our kindnesses the earth itself rebelled
none can permit the law to be denied
by those who are so bound to a far higher
that their hard hands are in the moment lit
by the illuminations of their pride
the incandescence of a greater fire
than can be understood by human wit
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
Life is a journey that never ends,
A lesson that we'll take 'til the world ends,
We meet new people that sometimes becomes our inspiration,
But sometimes becomes our distress.
He gives us challenges day-to-day,
To make us stronger than yesterday,
Even though we're about to give up,
He's always there to lift us up.
No matter what decision we'll make,
Always think of the consequences it will take,
Chances that we didn't take,
Are worst than the moments that we'll never forget.
We should forget injuries,
But not the kindnesses,
We should learn how to cry,
But you should know how to wipe.
Life is an endless process of learning,
Extra patience is what you'll be needing,
Try to take it easy,
And you'll probably have a perfect journey.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 7:52 AM UTC
No, no, don't like, don't follow...
please
*read, believe, think, love, hate...lease the words
but likes are cheap
never follow only lead
with hearth warmth
skulls overflowing with kindnesses*
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC