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Make no judgements where you have no compassion.

quote by Anne McCaffrey
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love & Compassion

I used to think love was a dying art
Compassion couldnt live within a crowded heart
I saw my freedom in a poor mans eyes
Hope like a light, will to survive
A sense of dignity to hold up high
These are the simple things
That keep us all alive
And though the rich buy power for a time
One thing that money cant buy
Chorus
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Thats what it takes
(give love...youre gonna feel love...
Ooo... feel love... youre gonna give love)
One night when I was feelin all alone
I saw a shadow walking in the danger zone
I knew that I would have to make a choice
Hunger in my heart, hunger in my spirit
We wont be free until we equalize
The price of power to the price of every life
And though I know its gonna take some time
Someday were all gonna find
Love and compassion
(onlv) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Thats what it takes to relate
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
(oniy) love und compassion
Thats what it takes
(give love... ooo feel love... youre gonna
Feel love... if you give love)
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
(only) love und compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me

[...] Read more

song performed by Hall & Oates
Added by Lucian Velea
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Compassion

You want more, and still more,
Until you get more than you ever bargained for.
Now its plain, clear as rain,
Ive seen your symptoms many times before.
Lying on your bed of pain
What will you have now?
What are riches untold in a life without compassion?
For theres no winter as cold
As a life without compassion.
Theres no prescription thats sold
That can heal you like compassion.
Well you tried and you cried,
And let your disappointment make you hard inside.
You have doubt, you reach out,
Still youre the only one you care about.
Hiding in your sack of woe
What do you need now?
For there is nothing so sad
As a life without compassion.
And even love has turned bad,
It was love without compassion.
And you dont need what you had
cause you did not have compassion.
Dying on your bed of pain
What will you have now?
Youll get no judgment from me,
I can only feel compassion.
And if thats what you need,
I will give you my compassion.
Just dont forget about me
cause we all need some compassion.
Open up your heart
So you can start to feel compassion.
Get down on your knees,
Pray to heaven for compassion.
Everybody needs compassion.
If you want to be healed
Then you know you got to feel compassion.

song performed by Todd Rundgren
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'll Show My Passion

Come to me when,
Something's bothering you.
Come to me when you want to boo-hoo...
And I'll show my passion.
With compassion.

Come to me when,
Something's bothering you.
Come to me when you want to boo-hoo...
And I'll show my passion.
With compassion.

I'm not the one who sits around,
To put folks down like they're the clowns.
Without a passion.
Or show compassion.

I'm not the one who sits around,
To put folks down like they're the clowns.
I do show passion.
With compassion.

Come to me when,
You want to be hugged and close...
And I'll show my passion,
With compassion.

Come to me when,
You want to be hugged and close...
And I'll show my passion,
With compassion.

Give up your fears to feel,
My passion.
Give up your fears to feel,
Compassion.
Give up your fears to feel,
There's nothing that you have to prove...
Or be someone that isn't you.

Give up your fears to feel,
My passion.
Give up your fears to feel,
Compassion.
Give up your fears to feel,
There's nothing that you have to prove...
Or be someone that isn't you.

Come to me when,
You want to be hugged and close...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Compassion Is The Sweetness That Enters

Compassion is the sweetness that enters
the wounded apple of knowledge after
you've taken your first bite out of it.
It's not an antidote to the facts of life and death.
And you should know by now if you've suffered at all,
and it's impossible not to from the moment you open your eyes,
the night is not a reward, nor the lantern of the light
that goes before you on a graveyard shift of the stars.
Compassion is the oldest instinct of the heart
and first muse of the mind that can taste only
the blowing blossoms and bitter green apples of the spring,
gripe brain, before it ripens like a sunset in your blood.

That's why the heart knows more about it than the head.
And I expect, on that basis, no one is more capable
of loving us who must doubt that we're worthy of love
to live up to the truth of it than the dead who can open
the tiny koans of the seeds at the core of things
like the lockets of fortune-cookies that break
like twisted cosmic eggs in a rush to spread their wings
like waterbirds who write the lyrics of their songs on the fly.

Words for the eye. Words for the ear. Words
for the voice of the wind like black walnut trees
and kites in a storm. And if you really know how to listen,
I mean if you can hear the wavelength of a black snake
swimming across your blood like a mantra
of terrifying, beautiful wisdom that keeps its secrets
to itself, or hear the unfathomable oceans in the black rose
whose petals and eyelids are always smashing
like white eyelashes in a squall of sunbeams
against the breakwater of a white dawn that passes
like an albino eclipse in a moonlit leper colony
of extinct black rhinos. If you even remotely
hear what I mean when I speak like this sleepwalking
through a dream grammar like a prophetic skull in a trance,
words that dance like light on the mindstream
rejoicing in the clarity of the voice that expresses
the hidden message encoded in the genes of the fireflies.

You have mouths. Speak for yourselves.
Some like lighthouses along the banks of life.
Some like thieves with searchlights for eyes on a bomber's night
when everyone is underground and the bummers are out
plundering the evacuated houses of the zodiac.
Might be the ravings of a star struck maniac talking to himself
to make sure nobody else is listening. Might be
the surrealistic lament of a Dadaist night bird
singing out loud in its sleep for things it doesn't know
it longs for, or maybe a lunatic is waxing prophetic

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Laughter and Compassion

Laughter and Compassion
Goes hand in hand
Are good medicine for the heart and mind
Not a direct problem solver but reduces stress
For I laughed at one's interpretation of POS
Of another's sarcasm
A cuddling party feels good

Laughter and Compassion
How I laughed and laughed
The laughter relaxed my body
The compassion rested my mind
Follows understanding
Without judgment
My shell broke free

Laughter and Compassion
To have compassion is to be human
During times of despair needed most
A hug
A kind act
Simple gestures
A smile
For a lack of compassion is a pity
Effects the emotional bearing environment
The pleasure of laughter
As without laughter, life is mundane
The human empathy of compassion
As without compassion, one is heartless
Catalysts for deeper problem
Are revelations

poem by Tina Chan
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You cannot avoid making judgements but you can become more conscious of the way in which you make them. This is critically important because once we judge someone or something we tend to stop thinking about them or it. Which means, among other things, that we behave in response to our judgements rather than to that to which is being judged. People and things are processes. Judgements convert them into fixed states. This is one reason that judgements are often self-fulfilling.

quote by Neil Postman
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Compassion and Anger

Compassion and anger were my only love
Came to me winging like a lonely dove
Gimme some loving from the Lord above
Compassion and anger

Down on the quayside things getting rough
Somebody trying to prove they are tough
Compassion and anger will soon call their bluff
Compassion and anger

Compassion and anger won't make you sad
Compassion and anger will just make you glad
What will you do when the world's turning bad
Without compassion and anger?

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Compassion

It is one's compassion,
And beliefs...
To alleviate a grief felt.
With a bringing to others...
A feeling of relief,
That is received and released.
To asist in the melting...
With a helping of it to go away.

Distress seems to be left,
Everywhere on one's path today.
Another who cares,
Isn't 'asked' to be there...
But is there,
Anyway.

That is compassion,
Fashioned...
From understanding another's pain.

Compassion that is fashioned,
From a mode of action...
That one sustains.

It is not a style to maintain,
When the mood of it goes.
It is there to show,
With sincerity...
As it's received.

That is compassion,
Fashioned...
From understanding another's pain.

Compassion that is fashioned,
From a mode of action...
That one sustains.

Distress seems to be left,
Everywhere on one's path today.
Another who cares,
Isn't 'asked' to be there...
But is there,
Anyway.

And if asked to stay,
That one with compassion...
Will!

That one,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Compassion

Compassion is one thing we all expect
In life on earth, from womb to tomb endless;
In giving it, we seldom are perfect;
We live our life that is not just selfless.

The handicapped expect much compassion;
So does a newborn child suckled at breast;
Who cares about a beggar’s life’s passion?
Compassion is a must for ev’n a beast.

When God can shower compassion on us,
Why not all earthlings on one another?
If we can show compassion without fuss,
Much more will be bestowed on us, brother.

Compassion is an attribute of man,
And giving it is easy, if you can.

poem by John Celes
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Love Out Of Compassion

Love, materialistic, expects returns.
Love, physical, expects responses.
Love from compassion has no condition,
Where pleasure of loving is the reward.
To perpetuate only happiness
One must head towards love freedom compassion.

For others to be happy,
Practise compassion.
For you to be happy,
Practise compassion.
Love without compassion
Is body without life.

To get the impetus
To show compassion to one
Who is in expectation,
Imagine he would die soon,
And it would generate
In you enough pity.
Also imagine what would happen
When you were in his shoes.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Assessments to Seduce

Address this any way you wish.
But during my grief periods...
God was with me.
And both of us sat in sorrow alone.

Your judgements passed on me does not matter.
Nor your assessments to seduce your reality.

Address this any way you wish.
But during my grief periods...
God was with me.
And both of us sat in sorrow alone.

I chose to heal.
I chose to sing.
I chose to dance and do those things.

Your judgements passed on me does not matter.
Nor your assessments to seduce your reality.

I chose to stand.
I chose to walk.
I chose the Sun!
Not the miseries others wished upon me to bring.
Hoping from obstacles faced,
I would run.

Address this any way you wish.
But during my grief periods...
God was with me.
And both of us sat in sorrow alone.

I chose to heal.
I chose to sing.
I chose to dance and do those things.

And whatever it is prioritized on your agenda?
I wish you all the best!
But don't count on me,
To give it attention with signs of protest.

I have chosen to ignore people like you.
Knowing that a focus on my own happiness...
Is what God wishes!
And that gift God has given...
Has proven to me I am blessed!

Address this any way you wish.
Your judgements passed on me does not matter.
Nor your assessments to seduce your reality.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Moses

To grace those lines wch next appear to sight,
The Pencil shone with more abated light,
Yet still ye pencil shone, ye lines were fair,
& awfull Moses stands recorded there.
Lett his repleat with flames & praise divine
Lett his the first-rememberd Song be mine.
Then rise my thought, & in thy Prophet find
What Joy shoud warm thee for ye work designd.
To that great act which raisd his heart repair,
& find a portion of his Spirit there.

A Nation helpless & unarmd I view,
Whom strong revengefull troops of warr pursue,
Seas Stop their flight, their camp must prove their grave.
Ah what can Save them? God alone can save.
Gods wondrous voice proclaims his high command,
He bids their Leader wave the sacred wand,
& where the billows flowd they flow no more,
A road lyes naked & they march it o're.
Safe may the Sons of Jacob travell through,
But why will Hardend Ægypt venture too?
Vain in thy rage to think the waters flee,
& rise like walls on either hand for thee.
The night comes on the Season for surprize,
Yet fear not Israel God directs thine eyes,
A fiery cloud I see thine Angel ride,
His Chariot is thy light & he thy guide.
The day comes on & half thy succours fail,
Yet fear not Israel God will still prevail,
I see thine Angel from before thee go,
To make the wheeles of ventrous Ægypt slow,
His rolling cloud inwraps its beams of light,
& what supplyd thy day prolongs their night.
At length the dangers of the deep are run,
The Further brink is past, the bank is won,
The Leader turns to view the foes behind,
Then waves his solemn wand within the wind.
O Nation freed by wonders cease thy fear,
& stand & see the Lords salvation here.

Ye tempests now from ev'ry corner fly,
& wildly rage in all my fancyd Sky.
Roll on ye waters as ye rolld before,
Ye billows of my fancyd ocean roar,
Dash high, ride foaming, mingle all ye main.
Tis don—& Pharaoh cant afflict again.
The work the wondrous work of Freedomes don,
The winds abate, the clouds restore ye Sun,
The wreck appears, the threatning army drownd
Floats ore ye waves to strow the Sandy ground.

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
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No Greater Loyalty

This will be our family secret don't tell others how he died
Never mention how my darling son took his own life in suicide
Don't want them saying he opted out of life they would never understand
How our beloved teenager he died at his own hand.

Don't tell anyone we found him hanging from the low branch of a tree
Tell them 'twas of a heart attack that he died suddenly
We do not need their judgements my son must rest in peace
It was of his own choosing that from life he choose release.

Of the darkness that surrounded him we never were to know
The mother she has shed her tears for her son who died six months ago
For to save him from the judgements of the living for her dead son she will lie
She will never admit that he was one who choose his own way to die.

No greater loyalty than the loyalty of a mother when all is said and done
From the judgements of the living she lies to protect her dead son
She takes flowers twice a week to place on the grave where he does lay
And she will grieve for her deceased son till her own dying day.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Child Of The Islands - Winter

I.

ERE the Night cometh! On how many graves
Rests, at this hour, their first cold winter's snow!
Wild o'er the earth the sleety tempest raves;
Silent, our Lost Ones slumber on below;
Never to share again the genial glow
Of Christmas gladness round the circled hearth;
Never returning festivals to know,
Or holidays that mark some loved one's birth,
Or children's joyous songs, and loud delighted mirth.
II.

The frozen tombs are sheeted with one pall,--
One shroud for every churchyard, crisp and bright,--
One foldless mantle, softly covering all
With its unwrinkled width of spotless white.
There, through the grey dim day and starlit night,
It rests, on rich and poor, and young and old,--
Veiling dear eyes,--whose warm homne-cheering light
Our pining hearts can never more behold,--
With an unlifting veil,--that falleth blank and cold.
III.

The Spring shall melt that snow,--but kindly eyes
Return not with the Sun's returning powers,--
Nor to the clay-cold cheek, that buried lies,
The living blooms that flush perennial flowers,--
Nor, with the song-birds, vocal in the bowers,
The sweet familiar tones! In silence drear
We pass our days,--and oft in midnight hours
Call madly on their names who cannot hear,--
Names graven on the tombs of the departed year!
IV.

There lies the tender Mother, in whose heart
So many claimed an interest and a share!
Humbly and piously she did her part
In every task of love and household care:
And mournfully, with sad abstracted air,
The Father-Widower, on his Christmas Eve,
Strokes down his youngest child's long silken hair,
And, as the gathering sobs his bosom heave,
Goes from that orphaned group, unseen to weep and grieve.
V.

Feeling his loneliness the more this day
Because SHE kept it with such gentle joy,
Scarce can he brook to see his children play,
Remembering how her love it did employ

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Compassion and Power

Compassion and power they flowed together
There was no force that these could tether
They both flowed from the Saviors heart
Compassion and power you cannot part

In order for to do His will
We need these two great assets still
Let him not think who would do so
That he can let compassion go

Compassion first and then the power
They both must work the self same hour
Without the first the second fails
Compassion, then the power prevails

Roy Jenkin

poem by Roy Jenkin
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Paradise Lost: Book 11

Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn
From his displeasure; in whose look serene,
When angry most he seemed and most severe,
What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?
So spake our father penitent; nor Eve
Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell
Before him reverent; and both confessed
Humbly their faults, and pardon begged; with tears
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.
Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood
Praying; for from the mercy-seat above
Prevenient grace descending had removed
The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerate grow instead; that sighs now breathed
Unutterable; which the Spirit of prayer
Inspired, and winged for Heaven with speedier flight
Than loudest oratory: Yet their port
Not of mean suitors; nor important less
Seemed their petition, than when the ancient pair
In fables old, less ancient yet than these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore
The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heaven their prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious winds
Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they passed
Dimensionless through heavenly doors; then clad
With incense, where the golden altar fumed,
By their great intercessour, came in sight
Before the Father's throne: them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See$ Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung
From thy implanted grace in Man; these sighs
And prayers, which in this golden censer mixed
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring;
Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those
Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees
Of Paradise could have produced, ere fallen
From innocence. Now therefore, bend thine ear
To supplication; hear his sighs, though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let me
Interpret for him; me, his advocate
And propitiation; all his works on me,
Good, or not good, ingraft; my merit those
Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay.
Accept me; and, in me, from these receive
The smell of peace toward mankind: let him live

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Paradise Lost: Book X

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
Accept me, and in mee from these receave
The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
Those pure immortal Elements that know

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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The Truth About Jesus

what made Jesus
the force that changed
history forever?

was it His death on
the cross? or was it
His life, the way He lived?

He dared to live compassion
with human hands... knowing
the risk, He took it....

He knew that all lives
are connected... and lived
what He knew to be true....

'the kingdom of heaven
within you...'

His death merely an extension
of His life... the final step
of a long journey....

'the way, the truth, and the life...'
compassion, compassion, compassion...
God's hands are human!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Passion And Compassion

PASSION AND COMPASSION
Jesus Christ was crucified,
Lord Buddha got enlightenment,
For passion and compassion,
The voices of Gandhiji and Martin Luther,
Were silenced by bullets,
But where is passion and compassion today,
Money has become the creater,
Of all the evils
We should adopt passion and compassion

poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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