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Sudzedrebel Apr 15
How to get through to someone
Who simply won't talk to you‽
How to get through to someone
Who thinks they've already "gotten through‽"
How to get through to someone
Who really can't be bothered seeing‽
How to get through to someone
Who really isn't listening‽

What's 𝘮𝘺 name?

For most crave some recognition,
For most know of some loneliness.
It's better to have compassion,
Lest our rasher emotions ruin moment.
It's better to have patience,
Lest our hectic thoughts disrupt a companion.

Who are 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

For many can be very callous,
For many are much imbalanced.
It's better to care for one's self
Than to be hurt by another who only does.
It's better to love who you are
Than to find that you're with someone who does not.

Themselves. Others.
Savva Emanon Apr 14
In a room where shadows stretched like sighs,
Where time wore slippers and whispered lies,
There stood a soul, not born, but built,
Threaded not from ease, but quilted guilt,
Not soft by chance, but choice refined,
By all the jagged things behind.

She walked where tempests cracked the sky,
Where childhood dreams went soft and dry,
Where harsh words bruised like winter sleet,
Yet still she offered something sweet.
Not sugar spun from naivety,
But honey from a wisdom tree.

For kindness, see, is not a gift
Wrapped neat in bows and morning lift,
It’s forged in fire, steeped in rain,
Tempered in sorrow, kissed by pain.
It’s choosing light with eyes gone dim,
And humming hope when edges grim.

She smiles not out of ignorance,
But as rebellion. As a dance.
As a thumb pressed gently in the eye
Of every grief that whispered: Why?

She learned to bloom where nothing grew,
To soften sharpness, split in two,
And still she laughed. And still she gave.
And still she found more hearts to save.

The kindest souls are not naive,
They know how often people leave,
How promises can turn to smoke,
Yet still, they mend the ones who broke.

So if you meet one - bless the thread
That stitched their wounds and raised their head.
They are the lanterns, fierce and bright,
Born not in ease, but in the night.
Copyright 2025 Savva Emanon ©
The Poets Loft is my new YouTube Channel.
https://www.youtube.com/@PoetsLoft
Lemon Black Apr 12
Over horizon, in the dark,
transient allure of shooting stars.
Still yet vibrant moments
of joint within and far.
A vastness seized with eyes.
A million years of travel stories,
narrated each, entwined,
it’s not the ears they reach, but mind,
recalled and forgotten as told.
I always feel I know them all,
not memorizing a single one.

A portal gate, wide opened
to connect past with present moments,
events long gone, foretelling return,
tethered together
with a radiant thread of light.
By courtesy of night sky
offered repast of boundless calmness.
I fear to call how troubled a soul
must have become,
to miss this invite for peace of mind
addressed to everyone.
It’s mesmerizing every time.
Light, bearing witness to things afar in space and time, covers distance at a speed only imagination can outpace. It reaches our eyes, fulfilling its journey by transitioning into a thought. But whose thought would that be? An innocent adolescent, genuinely deliberating on the weight of loss, an adult frustrated with how all this potential can be rejected, or maybe someone more mature, full of compassion, for the disabled and prevented from this experience, possibly even self? Is it a quiet time, when admiring night sky feels like a second nature, a busy epoch, too busy to bother, or the last living person, sustained on cosmic radiation for thousands of years, finally coming to a catharsis after millenia of tedious dwelling, realizing how everything is appreciated precisely because of its momentary shining? Perhaps all, at once, mesmerized jointly yet separated somehow. From the calmness they emerge and into the calmness dissipate. All thoughts, shooting stars. There’s no one to tell.
Time has no wings
But it flies faster than bald eagles and fast jets
Time has no rings
But it is engaged or bound to ‘no safety nets’
And married with death.

We are all migrants in the depth
Of the valleys. We are passing by
Like the wind. No matter how hard we try
We will have to go
Like an unwanted cargo.

Time is nobody’s enemy
Be smart to lend a hand
To a stranger, for no real friend
Exists in this messy quagmire
Where everything is strange and dire.

We really own nothing
We are all living on borrowed time
We shall pay for the crime
Remember that we own nothing
Yet we keep on fantasizing and dreaming.

Time, which is not an enemy
Owns everything under the sun
And everything under the blue moon
FYI: Nobody has returned from Heaven
Not even the wisest angel of the deep blue Sea.

Copyright © April 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Debbie Apr 8
A single junco hopping carefree;
pecking stray seed in the snow.
The bird fully embraces the world it knows.
It's tiny heart thumps in gratitude;
for the wondrous discovery of food.

There is a difference between nice and kind;
you will hopefully someday find.
Being nice, you are pleasant and agreeable;
only to make yourself shine
in another's judgemental eye.
If you are kind, you have a deeper level of compassion
for a person's needy cry.
I'm done people pleasing.
Savva Emanon Apr 7
I. On the Nature of Smiles
A smile is a sneaky, invisible thing,
It creeps from the lips without flutter or wing,
But lo! when it lands on a stranger’s dull day,
It tickles the sorrow and shoos it away.

It travels through coffee shops, crosswalks, and queues,
It softens the sternest of daily-day news.
It has no real price, no receipt, no command,
And yet it could cradle the world in its hand.

II. The Grand and Glorious Hug
Now don’t underestimate (please, if you can)
The power of arms - be ye woman or man,
To wrap someone up like a parcel of peace,
To hush all the mayhem and grant them release.

A hug isn’t just for when sorrow attacks,
It’s also for moments when courage just lacks.
So squeeze with conviction, be warm, be profound,
A hug is a poem that needs not a sound.

III. Words of the Small-but-Mighty Kind
“Oh dear,” said the teacup, “I fear I may chip,”
Till a kind word arrived with a stiff upper lip.
“You're perfect,” it said. “You still hold the tea.”
And the teacup beamed back with revived dignity.

A phrase, just a whisper, can shatter the storm,
Can nudge someone’s heart back to hopeful and warm.
So toss kind words freely like petals or rain,
They land where they land, and they soften the pain.

IV. The Call to Now (and Never to Wait)
Oh yes, you may ponder, you may delay,
But kindness, my dear, was never that way.
It’s not for tomorrow or someday or soon,
It thrives in the morning, the dusk, and the noon.

So don’t be a waiter in life’s busy line,
Be wildly, ridiculously, wonderfully kind.
You never shall know what your ripple will do,
But I promise you this: it starts right with you.
Wasil Apr 3
Eyes from the sahara
As the world grafts onto my twin
A cloak of the untrue
We sip from the same water
Yet the fluid differs

Eyes from the eclipse
As blindness molds my phantom
Left stained by the garden of grants
Pressed from the same fruit
Yet not the same flavour

Eyes from the cataract
As the lens distorts myself
Suspended upon the bridge of ephemera
Blessed with the whole
Yet shifting beyond their gaze
Grey Mar 28
I wonder sometimes

how it's like this
And then like that
In this world

why others eyes are firmly shut
Others wide open

We see things how we want to
Not how they are

Our lenses are so fogged
So senile yet so young

Because our emotions
Are volatile and full of greed

But are those excuses enough
Knowingly or not
we killed someone's will to pull through
CJ Sutherland Mar 19
Good Samaritan

Or nemesis in us all

Who will win the fight

Each will show themselves in time

Who wins the one you feed chose


Tanka haiku.  
5 lines 31 syllables



Inspired Songs

1) the Good Samaritan
Lyric Video YouTube 2009
Children’s worship song
about compassion and kindness
Luke 10: 25-37

Nemesis2015
By Benjamin Clementine

Footnote
Every day all day long, we make choices between doing something good or doing something bad evil. Each of us have the capacity to be the good Samaritan or to be somebody’s nemesis. And the person we choose in the path we take is predicated on who we are and what we feed
Most people don’t know ,in the parable of the good Samaritan. The injured  man on the ground was the Samaritan’s worst enemy. His nemesis. Yet he showed kindness and passion.paying for his care.
Savva Emanon Mar 18
Into the dream you come, unbidden,
A shadow forged from light, a storm concealed.
The delicate strands of my quiet haven,
Unraveled beneath your touch, unhealed.

Across the soft carpet of my reverie,
You tread with hobnail boots, a jarring song.
Each step a symphony of discord,
Yet strangely, I crave you to linger long.

The velvet mists of my tender musings
Once kissed my soul with whispers sweet.
Now, torn asunder by your intrusion,
They coil around your resolute feet.

Oh, but how can I resist this chaos?
This beautiful wreckage you leave in your wake?
You trample the fragile blooms of my solace,
But in their ruin, new dreams awake.

For each mark you etch on my tranquil spirit
Speaks of passion, raw and wild, untamed.
You are the storm to my placid meadow,
The fire that leaves me scalded, yet named.

Do you know the weight of your intrusion?
Do you see the paths you've scarred and worn?
And yet, I cannot bid you to leave,
For in your rapture, I am reborn.

Into the dream you come, relentless,
And I, the keeper of this fragile space,
Stand transfixed, as you carve your essence,
Into the contours of this sacred place.

So tread, my tempest, tread without mercy,
Let your boots resound in my dream's embrace.
For though you shatter, though you unmake me,
In your destruction, I find my grace.
Copyright 2024 Savva Emanon ©
The Poets Loft is my new YouTube Channel.
https://www.youtube.com/@PoetsLoft
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