"wholehearted" poems
To love Jesus is to long with Him
But that longing is not enough
There is a need
*To structure our lives *
Around spending time with Him.
To desire also means to be disciplined
And then, we found ourselves
Delighting in the Lord.
It captures the essence
Of what it takes
To develop a consistent devotional life.
You can be motivated with great desire,
But without discipline
You will never get there
Discipline positions us
To receive grace;
Discipline is not grace
It is the submission of our heart
To encounter the grace of God.
It is not about whether God loves us —
His love is sure
Whether we are disciplined or not —
But it is our wholehearted response
To Him that allows us to find Him.
One must delight in the Lord
And shear every misfitting
And earthly delights.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Yesterday
Was in the ecstasy
Of realizing that
We were
Those two
On earth
Who liked bitter gourd curry
Cooked with coconut milk ….
Remember?
Think it was
In the sixth life.
We were
Two nascent bitter guards
On the pandal
Spread in the northern corner
Of the farmland
Belonging to a grandmother
In a village in Mississippi
Who used to attend to the orchards
Sitting in a wheelchair.
We had
Watched earth
And peeked
At the sky
Hanging from the same stalk
The scar left
From your tight clasp on my thigh
Scared
After spotting a double tailed pest
Is still there.
The pleasure of that pain
Makes me tearful now.
I am like the faces
In the house of deceased
Sobbing
At times
Bursting into tears
The next moment
Holding back
After a while.
Sometimes
I am all the faces
In the house of the dead
Tears have
Nothing to do with them.
Sometimes
The wedding house
Will laugh and laugh
Till its cheeks hurt.
Just like you.
My dear bitter guard,
When will we
Go back to that
Pandal in Mississippi
Where we had pulsated
From a single stalk?
Aren’t we the ones
To offer obsequies
To that grandmother
Who looked after us
With pots
Of wholehearted love?
Translator - Shyma P
Shyma P : Works in Payyanur College, Payyanur. Translator and film critic. Has translated poems and articles in Malayalam Literary Survey, The Oxford India Anthology of Malayalam Dalit Literature, online magazines like Gulmohar, Readleaf Poetry as well as scripts and subtitles for short films.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
in a world where we pray to be united
within the grasp of wholehearted humanity
standing tall
we sink in the dirt beneath our feet
and holding our heads up high we sing with the utmost pride
a song of which becomes a chanting notion
setting the tone for revenging entities
growing weary of the unwanted waste we toss our visions in the sea
without daring to take the promising chance
how are we to stand together
in a castle built to crumble in its past?
and yet we become the fools
lost in the fight and lost in our grieving
we walk the streets with our banners and our anger
without understanding what we are feeling
let me take you back to nineteen sixty three
when we marched on Washington
and we were lead by a King
what merely started as the seed of a dream
became the prelude to never ending history
yet with each milestone comes adversaries
and we still cry the tears of our fallen fathers
we still cry to be free
but remember my brothers and sisters
to be mindful in your actions
for blood does not wash blood away
and because the tongue can be a sword
be mindful of every single word you say
the whole world is unjust
be emotional if you must
but the time is now to be reflective
to be knowledgeable
to be respected
because the hearts of our sons and daughters
still need to be protected
the sun my still set orange
and they moon may still shine white
the day may still end at quarter to
the moment everything is night
and in each passing day are you going to become the change that is needed to win the fight?
are you going to do what's right?
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
I am literate in daydreams
and letting my imagination rule my head
I am literate in music
where rationale can be abandoned.
I am literate in procrastination,
pushing away my mind-defying.
I am literate in heartbreak
which has been already over-endured.
I am literate in lazy weekends
spent with my sister and a remote.
I am literate in creating;
not masterpieces, but heart and soul pieces.
I am literate in ramen noodle and green tea afternoons
in sweatpants and sneakers with no makeup on.
I am literate in moment-capturing
and finding the right words to explain.
I am literate in thunderstorms
and dancing in between water droplets.
I am literate in heart confessions
over acoustic guitars and games of solitaire.
I am literate in wanting
and taking away from what I already have.
I am literate in wanderlust
and a wholehearted need to escape.
I am literate in color-coordination and clothing arranging
and bringing out all my best.
I am literate in kissing with desperation
and wanting to have it be effortless.
I am literate in wasting my time
in my head, in my heart, and in the clouds.
I am literate in everything mentioned
and so much that I can’t even say.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
The old saying talks about
Being snug as a bug in a rug
But how can you feel that way
If you never ever get hugged.
If you hug your loved ones
They may not need drugs.
It’s an inexpensive medicine;
The basic household hug.
Worse things could happen
Than to catch the hugging bug.
It’s a better remedy than you
Can find in an apothecary jug.
It doesn’t require prescription
And is no big weight to lug.
You always have one handy,
The standard loving hug.
A hug can be the cure for you
When you are in a purple fug
And your face begins to look
Like a rather dyspeptic pug.
Somebody wonderful arrives
And gives your heart a tug
By giving you the all-time best
Wholehearted, loving hug.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
I don't really know you
But I know that smile
I know it's not wholehearted
And I know that you're faking it
I know you're struggling
I know life is hard right now
I know you feel like nothing will get better
And I know you feel hopeless, lost
But I know other stuff, too
I know how happy you make people
I know how amazing you are
I know that your life is just at the start
And I know how great it will be
I don't know a lot of things
But I know that you can't give up
So please
Please don't give up
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
When I walk down Shop Street
I shake my ***
(Yeah, I do.)
I swagger
With the confidence
That yes
I am a foreigner
In your country
And yeah I say,
You’re alright.
But I
Am a newly awakened goddess.
And it took being heartbroken
And being drunk five nights out of seven
And feeling like the water is going over my head
To say WAIT.
I am more than this.
And when you look at me
It won’t be because my *** is shaking
(although, that certainly helps)
It will be because
I EXUDE GREATNESS.
And you will want to know me.
I’ll be nodding my head from side to side
And shaking my hips like it is my God-given right
(it is)
And Instead of telling you how awesome you are
I’ll be telling myself.
Because that is the one person
whose been neglected from this equation
from the start.
When I ask
DO YOU THINK OF ME?
I’ll be asking myself.
And I’ll be replying a wholehearted “YES”
As I shake my ***
Walking down Shop Street.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
Sometimes in life
I've taken all I that could get
And at other times
I've given all that I am
And then ultimately
I was empty of everything
And full of nothing
But at least I've lived
And lived hard at that
By Phil Roberts
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 6:23 AM UTC
*Some of my best friends are
The tiny grey cells in my head
For, without these tireless givers
I should sorely want*.....
For I've had.....
The power to recognise the nurturer
Who saved me countless times
Who sewed my confidence at valedictory
Gratitude to Mother...granting me first wings.
The help of a few friends with proffered lifts
Not many, but enough to light the way
Takes but one spark to lead the lost
Cannot discount the value of true goodwill.
The sweet taste of that first, deep love
Who showed the path to discovered delights
Easy mem'ries...looking back, but ****** ahead
Sighs painted on the ceiling in dreamy webs.
The awkward trip down that rabbit hole
Blue lady hanging pretty in the corner
Flies trapped flimsy, on some terylene
Many padlocks loom....to get gasping to you!
The chance to slough off onerous habits
Dive wholehearted into the universe's sea
Gaps to kickstart joy and spearhead cheer
Mentors pass the torch and believe in me!
Yes, some of my best friends are NOT seen
Most reliably spun inside this osseous shell
They answer things and help me find my truth
Thank heavens....selfless amity equals mercy.
S T, 29 June
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Humanity is simplistic contrary to the complex, misunderstood, myriad of separately analyzed individuals that psychologists, artists, poets, and scientists paint it to be. Each person is labeled with a different disorder founded by their apparently personal past tragedies and harbors the wholehearted, mistaken, belief that they are alone in their “tragedy” which is indeed not tragedy but a side effect to the human condition, and arguably, to the optimist, one of life’s sacred milestones. Humanity likes to romanticize these milestones. They dress up their societal deemed shameful past with cashmere sweaters, line their lips with the grief of loss, and sweep their eyes with trust issue mascara all in an effort to pronounce themselves worthy and prove themselves beautiful despite their “unique” past events and tragic flaws. But they are not unique. When you peel off the pearls, when you delete the username, when you strip away the added flair to each sad story, humanity is all the same. They all front loss of some sort, they’ve all battled insecurity, they’ve all woken up one day perhaps wishing they hadn’t woken up at all. They’ve all laughed, cried, chased after the fleeting ideal of love, and questioned its palpability. They’ve each found themselves in a situation that made them ponder their ability to ever trust again, if they could ever love again, if they could ever be the same again; but what they don’t realize is that they are all the same. Rough the personal and each person is the same, just with a different name. Step back and behold, these seemingly individual fallacies of the human condition all spin together to weave a simplistically complex web.
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 9:49 PM UTC
Awe-inducing presence
Beguiling beauty
Calm after the storm
Delicate and divine
Effervescent being
Flames dancing in the sky
God-fearing
Heart unstained by impurity
Interstellar
Joy in the midst of misery
Kind, too kind for her sake
Lovely smile
Magnetic woman
Never says never
Oblivious to love
Pure white
Quick-wit and sharp
Rain during the drought
Starry, starry eyes
Thunderstorms
Unwavering love
Virtuoso
Wholehearted
Xenon, gold, and neon
Yuletide happiness
Zigzag feelings
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC
O! How I long endear myself
to thee,
in the urgency of my desire
to yield to the mercy
of this faithful destiny!
As soon I am about to commence
my new course of journey,
embracing the heath on the hills
and the dark of the mills
looking for wholehearted sincerity,
healing my long-lost gaiety,
prudence, and generosity!
O subtle, yet perilous gaiety that
was ignored by such disparagement,
and its fabulous tenacity!
Ardent, merciless tenacity!
That but shan't befriend the course
of thy adultery, yet praise thy ignominy
and infamy in an adorable, inherent manner!
But never forget that the entire breadth
of this journey
I devote to thee:
in order that thee would become my love,
my soul, and all the healthy demeanour beneath;
thou hath my life, kisses, and
the sacred secrets of my fiery health.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
there is one truth of which i'm incandescently certain and that's that nobody can take away a truth as it darkens, a galaxy in a glass; and the truth is that i'd be the only ***** donor in a charity just for you because signals and signs have showed me your soul and you're grander than celestial poles
if i didn't know any better i'd suggest you're the sun and i'm the solar system and i orbit around you and i'm not too sure about humans having wings but imagine:
a snowy cabin some place away from civilisation, you and i and wholehearted communication, you and i and books and fictional integration, you and i and mind blowing realisations, you and i and wings outstretched souring across nations
you are the sun and i am the solar system and although i orbit you i'm never allowed to brush the surface, i'm guessing it's for a purpose so i admire from afar, a gaze stretched over constellations and the sound of your voice bouncing off stars into my hemisphere of tangled webs and ripened tears, the echoing trailing behind merely a souvenir
there is one truth of which i'm incandescently certain and that's this:
the only reason my brain hasn't stopped my heart from beating is because the thoughts of you are giving it meaning and it's hard to breathe with these overwhelming feelings but i'm coping because the broken glass holding my galaxy is healing
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
*Went for an evening walk
with many people walking around
a scheduled walk
everyday at the same time
it seems..
get to see & feel
more often than before.
An old man walking everyday
at his own pace
taking baby step at his old age..
Another man, unable to walk at all..
but still striving to make one more step..
so as to keep moving on the go...
Unexpectedly, out of all the thoughts
heard a dog's bark
that too behind the walls
and as I turned aside
only to find a caged dog..
May be jealous of all of us
as it may seem we are free
in this vast array of light..
...and all of a sudden met my friend..
a wholehearted smile...
she missed me it seems
as I was away for a while...
A sudden burst of laughter
with incomplete talks..
Good to meet people unknown
but somehow known
as we all are walking in the same lane
to find ourselves more often than others!*
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 1:22 PM UTC
The lucent halo covered her wedding gown,
Exchanging glances they took the bridal vows,
Beside the tablescape he wore her the crown,
With a sparkling mirth, she canoodled her spouse.
The chirpy memories are still alive,
Emerging out of the star-crossed soul,
The mortal malady shall perish, and bliss will thrive,
Tribulations shall cease, with attempts to console.
The spotlight flashed his eyes,
Teardrops gently rolled over his cheeks with a surprise,
Resting his mind awhile, he gazed at the skies,
The wholehearted love seemed to be a sublime paradise.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
why do we think so much
about the feelings we hide?
why do we filter our thoughts
after a decent amount of overthinking
— only to end up saying things half-heartedly?
what am i afraid of,
what do i fear the most about speaking my heart —
how can i not trust it enough to say
the right things?
as a strong believer of wholehearted expression,
i am a hypocrite for holding back
i just cant put my heart in a position
where it could be
rejected
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
i had a kind face, and the kind of smile
only a brother could love
and read beyond the teeth,
biting back bitter amusements
of a broken, brooding boy
you were mine; not in blood but in love,
and we were too small and too young
with too much and not enough
of everything.
brother.
“brother”
bromance.
the lie of the year,
and we had many.
i had chronic denial and you had chronic rejection.
if we said we saw ourselves as siblings,
it would all go away.
my brother from another mother
not a brother at all, but a lie
the hidden gay.
i had a kind face, but you were kind
and i wanted to be that
for you, a light against the shadowy history
the trajectory from ruin to wholeheartedness
you were already wholehearted,
and wholeheartedly in.
brother, i ruined you by calling you brother
with my fear of our friendship: the trajectory from friends to more
now everything between us is gone
and it still feels rather sore
even though i don’t love you anymore
Jun 22, 2023
Jun 22, 2023 at 4:55 AM UTC
Black is the color of my “true” love’s hair.
His nose a beak,
His chin, and aspects of his character, weak.
Why then, do I bother?
Well, I read once, that, “there are places in the heart that do not exist;
Suffering has to enter for them to come to be.”
And I’ve always been told to be wholehearted.
My blue eyed-devil suffered
From different variations of the same flaw
Or did I suffer him?
Or did I suffer, and in suffering, bring new flawed places to life?
If that is the case, then I should be called creator
God. Almighty in my abilities to generate where nothing was before.
And if I am so bold, so audacious, then wholehearted isn’t he?
I read again once, once again
That each time a heart breaks
There is more pain than the time before.
Medically this doesn’t make sense—
Shouldn’t the fractures be slightly more vulnerable, easier
To crack? Or is it that new compounds emerge—fresh and sharp
while ghost aches, echoes, and wind still haunt their ancestry?
Perhaps it is neither.
Perhaps, instead, it is not even a matter of the living and the dead,
But of the young and the elder,
And these wounded heart bones
Are simultaneously living new aches and old pains.
After all, I’ve also heard, that, “time is a white
man’s construct,” only serving as the bleached skeletal frame for our selves.
Picture that then,
The hollow-eyed skull of the universe
Watching as we give bits of ourselves away to time
So that we may under and stand existence—
Create those “new” places with the patches and sewing
Of our old hurts, and the stretching and tearing of new.
We become wholehearted.
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
Love, he gave,
reciprocated not behave
His goals were colossal,
not as high as mine's mime
He made flowers coated in wine,
with fine strokes and time,
but,
he'd never felt I was lost,
bleary and unkind
in storms,
he ceaselessly heads to mold,
healthy vines...
Aug 8, 2022
Aug 8, 2022 at 12:25 AM UTC
The concept of you scares me.
The thought of you picking at the thing I spent years constructing.
Piece by piece you get closer,
to me,
to what I try so hard to destroy.
Not understanding why I'm so reluctant,
why I, after so long, cannot do it again.
For I do not believe feelings can be mutual
I do not believe one can look at me and feel the way i do,
I do not believe, in certain light
that this concept of love exists.
I believe in wholehearted conversations,
and laughs underneath the gleaming moon.
I believe in strong friendships.
But for this to be everlasting,
for one to crave me as much as I crave them,
that is fictitious.
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 1:00 AM UTC
They look at us like we are broken.
They hear our life stories and aww 'miser' for picking up and movings continuously
People are terrified of their world changing and us, we were born into it and know no other
The faces of despair appearing when I say I have moved 9 times, as if I just declared a death.
But the last time I checked
waking up in a different country every four years
is reviving
When I speak about my life my breath is taken away both because its a lot of “and then I moved to..” but mainly because I am amazed every morning by how much I have accomplished at only 18.
The international community I grew up in taught me more than school ever could
The term 'Third Culture Kids' was invented for us and we embrace it and are empowered by it
There isn't a single person I know that can say wholehearted where he is from
Do you know any kid that can say they can sort their friends by continent
& last time I checked that was
beyond impressive
Do you know may language I can swear in thanks to it and obviously communicate in
Walking down the halls and finding someone that spoke the same language as you always made your day and you would go out of your way simply to have a conversation that others wouldn't understand because your connection to 'home' will always be there
But then again, for kids like us ask us where home is and you will never get one response.
Having the backgrounds we have always leeds to political arguments but for once we do not sit and spit out the information we heard from our parents but rather each with his national backgrounds comes to the stage.
& Last time I checked that was
fascinating.
Living out of suitcases
Knowing too many hotels all over the world
packing your house in a container continuously
adapting to a new culture and society
learning to love everyone
not having a say in where you move but being thankful that you have...
& Every time I check
I am grateful
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 5:08 AM UTC
there is light
and the angels beckon you
to watch them dance underneath it,
with it,
between the rays,
in it,
with a wish that after a glimpse
of salubrious sunlight and soulful sways
to the subtle beat of the Earth’s vibrations
and the wholehearted laughter of the Buddhas bellies
you will breathe in
and out,
the millisecond of a pause between
the in
and
the out,
you will stop
you will surrender
you will die for bliss
you will leave your body and fly to the
castle in the sky
toward the light
to dance with them underneath it,
with it,
between the rays
in it
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
You've seen everything through my pulse, and
Yet I've lost sight in this empty cavity
A hole, hollow and holistic
Wholehearted and devoid of warmth
As if to thaw on a bed of roses
It feels graceful, tragic,
Reflective of Being
The bane of empathy
The sting of truth and honesty
Respective of living, living;
Eventually You will be replaced
In this heart shaped hole in my chest
Wholeheartedly
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 10:27 PM UTC