deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Empath Speaks
I saw you in line,
uncomfortably stuck
between
the harried mom
snapping commands
at her wild brood
and
the businessman
in the expensive suit,
shifting from one
Italian loafer to the other,
impatience his resting place;
your insecurity screeches at me
loudly in its lack of words ~
please release me;
bright red-orange flames
fill your aura
and I can feel you
burning
the pain of existing
etched into your face,
your identity borrowed
from faded purple hair
with glittery silver roots,
and the black kohl, smudging
eyes gone soft with wisdom;
your slumped, uneasy stance
belies what you believe ~
you’re too old for dress-up,
if the sample of humans
in this space of waiting
has anything to say about it
and trust me, love
I know how much
they all do
you turn your back to me,
shifting, shuffling ~
head pushed down
with the weight
of your hurt,
and I absorb your longing
to get away from here;
to be anywhere
except where all these
shallow judgments
will follow;
I see your coat,
cobalt canvas with brass trim,
heavy and warm
with industrial-sized buttons;
my eyes caress
the ouija board
beaded into its skin;
I can’t help but take in
the exquisite quality
of this garment
you wear with such
unworthiness,
and that voice that
speaks so often to me,
interrupting my ignorance
and the bliss I bask in,
spilling your truth
with surety into my ear,
you created this beauty
and I know now
in this
random moment,
tucked out of sight
into the mundane,
what you need from me
climbing over my own awkward,
my own unworthiness
matching your silent screams ~
I make my way to you,
pushing past
Mr. Self Important
ignoring his huffed, sharp breath;
to whisper in low tones
away from prying tire-kickers
and the you-need-to-grow-up
crowd of sheep;
and I tell you what I know ~
you are art,
you’ve struggled to break free
from the confines
of your too-oft kicked spirit,
your damaged demeanor
is hiding a master of needle
and thread knotted,
and your weary soul
need only to lay it’s head
on the pillow
of your perfection
as is
to find rest
my words come
from somewhere else
and I give them
to you quietly
but firmly,
watching those flames
flush from fire to ice,
radiating outward,
from a core of embers
that just need a little stoking,
until they burst into stars
all around you;
I know I’ve done the thing
I’m here to do,
as much as I never wanted
to be the one do it;
the smile
that transforms
your face into pure sunlight,
so bright it steals my breath;
your unsheltered gift to me,
maybe I’ll be the only one
to see it today,
but something tells me
I’m wrong about that;
and I feel my own
transformation
follow
uncomfortably stuck
between
the harried mom
snapping commands
at her wild brood
and
the businessman
in the expensive suit,
shifting from one
Italian loafer to the other,
impatience his resting place;
your insecurity screeches at me
loudly in its lack of words ~
please release me;
bright red-orange flames
fill your aura
and I can feel you
burning
the pain of existing
etched into your face,
your identity borrowed
from faded purple hair
with glittery silver roots,
and the black kohl, smudging
eyes gone soft with wisdom;
your slumped, uneasy stance
belies what you believe ~
you’re too old for dress-up,
if the sample of humans
in this space of waiting
has anything to say about it
and trust me, love
I know how much
they all do
you turn your back to me,
shifting, shuffling ~
head pushed down
with the weight
of your hurt,
and I absorb your longing
to get away from here;
to be anywhere
except where all these
shallow judgments
will follow;
I see your coat,
cobalt canvas with brass trim,
heavy and warm
with industrial-sized buttons;
my eyes caress
the ouija board
beaded into its skin;
I can’t help but take in
the exquisite quality
of this garment
you wear with such
unworthiness,
and that voice that
speaks so often to me,
interrupting my ignorance
and the bliss I bask in,
spilling your truth
with surety into my ear,
you created this beauty
and I know now
in this
random moment,
tucked out of sight
into the mundane,
what you need from me
climbing over my own awkward,
my own unworthiness
matching your silent screams ~
I make my way to you,
pushing past
Mr. Self Important
ignoring his huffed, sharp breath;
to whisper in low tones
away from prying tire-kickers
and the you-need-to-grow-up
crowd of sheep;
and I tell you what I know ~
you are art,
you’ve struggled to break free
from the confines
of your too-oft kicked spirit,
your damaged demeanor
is hiding a master of needle
and thread knotted,
and your weary soul
need only to lay it’s head
on the pillow
of your perfection
as is
to find rest
my words come
from somewhere else
and I give them
to you quietly
but firmly,
watching those flames
flush from fire to ice,
radiating outward,
from a core of embers
that just need a little stoking,
until they burst into stars
all around you;
I know I’ve done the thing
I’m here to do,
as much as I never wanted
to be the one do it;
the smile
that transforms
your face into pure sunlight,
so bright it steals my breath;
your unsheltered gift to me,
maybe I’ll be the only one
to see it today,
but something tells me
I’m wrong about that;
and I feel my own
transformation
follow
Published 20th Dec 2019
Author's Note
A random encounter in the grocery line.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 15
reading list entries 9
comments 10
reads 416
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
20th Dec 2019 6:42pm
Exquisite detail in your people watching. I love the translation of your experience. It held my eyes like hands. My work shift is about up but I'll need to come back and read it again more slowly and drink it in.
20th Dec 2019 7:37pm
That was some encounter! Wwooowww... I’m at a lost for words my dear!! 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 ✌🏾
21st Dec 2019 5:37am
Wow
I see it. I see you in it. My biggest hook and wonder is the masculine tone you give to your shadow, or if I'm reading it wrong.
The last two stanzas grip my eyes like a scoped eagle. Thank you in words isn't a proper thank you or even microscopically close to what your words just made me feel.
Like tightened boots, focused stare, and a furnaced belly that chimneys a soothing flame to my chest.
(I feel like i wrote that so goddamn nonsensical rather than simply spoke but i can't describe any of it differently)
I see it. I see you in it. My biggest hook and wonder is the masculine tone you give to your shadow, or if I'm reading it wrong.
The last two stanzas grip my eyes like a scoped eagle. Thank you in words isn't a proper thank you or even microscopically close to what your words just made me feel.
Like tightened boots, focused stare, and a furnaced belly that chimneys a soothing flame to my chest.
(I feel like i wrote that so goddamn nonsensical rather than simply spoke but i can't describe any of it differently)
21st Dec 2019 2:03pm
This has to be one of the most perfect poems I've ever read, Luna. As an empath it's vital that we deliver messages of the Universe to kindred inadvertently caught in the trap of consumerism between the elite and middle class. We feel unworthy when we feel we don't belong wherever we're at, in whatever crowd, party, function we attend. Which is why we love being home so much. It's our safe place; however, it is imperative for us to remember when we must go out, that we are not alone - there are others who suffer as we do - and there are messages to be delivered in the form of spiritual upliftments needed so badly at the time.
And, if you've ever received one, then you'll know exactly what I'm referring to.
Bless you and yours this holiday season, and thank you for sharing. ❤
And, if you've ever received one, then you'll know exactly what I'm referring to.
Bless you and yours this holiday season, and thank you for sharing. ❤
I knew diddly squat about empaths until I met Ahavati. The education continues. And I usually have something to nitpick on every poem, but once again, solid writing as usual. The title is perfect in regards to the whole.
22nd Dec 2019 8:28am
Dear L,
Ditto all the above. For lack of anything brilliant, or even inane, to say this is a touching, insightful, brilliant piece! How beautifully you’ve captured the homing abilities to zero in on someone’s need for that act of kindness and then let them know they are worthy was fantastic! Yoi’ve lifted upward two souls today that lady’s and mine!
Yule tide greetings and blessings of the season to you and your family if I don’t get the opportunity to visit again beforehand. H🌷
Ditto all the above. For lack of anything brilliant, or even inane, to say this is a touching, insightful, brilliant piece! How beautifully you’ve captured the homing abilities to zero in on someone’s need for that act of kindness and then let them know they are worthy was fantastic! Yoi’ve lifted upward two souls today that lady’s and mine!
Yule tide greetings and blessings of the season to you and your family if I don’t get the opportunity to visit again beforehand. H🌷
Anonymous
30th Dec 2019 6:22pm
<< post removed >>
5th Jan 2020 2:00am
7th Jan 2020 6:09am
Your last line is such a living iteration of "Teacher, heal thyself." We reach out to strangers, null the "Other", change expected druthers, and in hearing the inner murmuring mirror neurons rear in those bonds. Share some hidden brain space and grow invisible real estate. Empathy applied is a superpower indeed.
12th Jan 2020 8:49pm
this held me from start to finish, for some reason it took me back to the school playground being a morning drop off parent watching my children seeing there struggle to fit in, if only i could have emulated these actions. a deeply inspiring poem.
