Empathy (writers wanted)

I am going to attempt the impossible by making the following suggestion. I want at least three other poets to work with me to create a fairly large, and organized colection of poems. THe title of this will be 'empathy' and the topic will be anything that relates to emotions. I will request that no reviews are posted. This will keep the collection to a streamline format. I have 20 some poems already writen for this collection, but i would like to know that i will have other poets actively writing for this collection before I start submitting like crazy. If you are intrested, send me a u2u and post your poem here. Remember, the topic is emotions.
Thanks always,
-tom sawyer

Emotions and empathy, are they the same?
Man interacting with man is more than a game

From the recesses of the past
cruelty often leaves us aghast

til the fulminations yet to be
prove that you acquiesce to me

given weapons to procure
I will be armed and secure

trusting in self alone
even if naked to the bone

as your transgressions I can not meet
save for leaving one most surely beat

loss to empathy and its kin
downfall of fakery and all its sin

She cries
and tries to hide her face
but why?
She is so beautiful
and so sad
she excedes today's high standards
in knowlage
and beauty
but she sees herself
through a twisted social mirror*
'what are they thinking
about me'
she sobs
everyone wants to show her
how much she is loved
but she doubts herself
and cries

There exists today a mirror
A twisted social mirror
it changes the way we look
and reduces our beautiful value
The mirror invented normality
and negated the love of differance
it makes us think bad things
about ourselves and others
it wispers lies
of uselessness and failure
the social mirror never compliments
if was created out of hate
don't look at your reflection
because the mirror can only lie
and lies will only tell you
that you are something less than great

Today i met a poet
inside the girl with the pale face
and nothing less than distressed hair
they say it is wrong to judge
but her pain is when she judges herself
i used to think
that her silance
was a quiet plea
to the lifeless
but then i saw her art
perfect reflections
of the inspirations
that brought them to life
and i heard her poems
ringing bells of human emotion
all of them ringing true
i grew pale as i realized
she is more beautiful
than i could ever know

To the lonely heart poet
show the world your poems
be a public showcase
they'll say "there a poet goes"
you will be a leader
you will cure their pain
you will change their lives
they will never be the same
your duty as a poet
is to show the world your poems
so come out of your closet
you should never be alone

deny rejection
reject denial
caring what people think
puts us on public trial

i will not act a way
that pleases someone else
i will not make my life
a bloody living hell

i am what i am
and i define what that is
i won't let someone tell me
the way that i should live

Within social classes
there are social groups
what one you are in
isn't something you can choose

instead, these groups choose you
and the way that you will live
you have no way to decide
you have no bargaining chips

only the rejects escape
they have no social group
ironically enough,
only the rejects cannot lose

They call him the skitz
when he talks to himself
no one understands him
because he is different
if they would take the time
to know him,
they would see
how inteligent he is
but for now,
he only shares
what he knows
with himself.

So many unkown talents
i see the artist hiding
no one knows them
their art is life-giving beauty
writen with the artist's blood
and the passion of their heart
but their shadow hand
keeps them hidden
and they can not touch the world

A Quiet Moment Alone

Photos of memories sit untouched on the bed,
She stares at the sheets upon which he once lay.
Too much sadness to bare, tears flow from her eyes
The good times together are all that she sees.
Completed by him, blessed by a love so strong
Surrounded by special warmth, it’s never gone
Only once in a lifetime can true passion exist
Her faith in the world disappeared with his shadow.
Wanting no more than for him to appear and lay upon her a tender kiss
This lonely woman, once a princess in his gaze,
Reduced, distracting her mind from the pain.

Always cries alone
Under skeletal trees
Her pain is shared

I don't like you, unkind person.

You don't like yourself.

But still, you need attention;

You just can't do without.

No one can see through you.

Everyone thinks you're true.

But I'm not fooled, unkind person,

So you just leave me blue.

Wherever you are tonight,
I am calling you,
my heart is crying
out for the love
and happiness we shared;
once
a long life-time ago;
When life was simple and
we thought that love meant
forever and that forever
meant eternally.

Where I am tonight,
I am lonely for your
touch; for the sound
of your laughter.
I
dream of you; your voice and face
haunt me.
Where are you now?
Do you feel as lost
as I? Do I appear to you
in your dreams? I wish I knew.

I see you, in the faces of children;
In the gently, dappled sunlight that
Peeks, playfully between the trees
And warms my face and soul,
I see you.

I hear your voice in the roar of
The ocean; in the call of sea birds
And the tinkle of wind chimes that
Dance and sway in the breeze,
I hear you.

I miss you in the quiet, holy, hours
Before dawn when I turn to hold you
As I once did when we shared a heart
And all of creation waited on us,
I miss you.

this is off the cuff!

the darkness wraps me
my fear is true,
the silence of the night,
sometimes broken by the creak of a floorboard
an alein creaping around my house...

were are you?
i need you!
i want to be in your arms
knowing all is ok,
but all i have is the night,
the never ending darkness!

a shavt of light from the street lamp is broken for a second,
i quail under the covers,
preparing for the killing blow,
that will never come.

nature calls, and i climb out of my bed,
grabing at the piece of wood,
beside my bed.
it may protect me,
if i can wield it,
but i need you,
i need your smile,
as you laugh at this absurdaty.

i creap along the passageway...
fumbling for the light swicth in the bathroom,
i lay down the weapon,
and pee,
and when i flush the toylet,
the crash of the water breakes the silence,
like someone shouting in a church.

where are you?
i need your love!
i panic and run to my bed,
waiting for my unseen enimies
to infiltrate my room.
i want you!
i need you!
i love you!

lightseeker, that is great poetry!

Great work guys, keep up the great work.