Sorrow for a husband is like a pain in the elbow, sharp and short.
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Grief for a husband is like a pain in the elbow, sharp and short.
My Only Song
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
You took it all
Without any gain.
You loved us all
With gentle eyes
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
39 plus one
Lashes great fall on your back
A crown of thorns
Pressed down around your head
The blood runs down
and yet you cry
'So many lost;
So many die.'
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
Leave it now-
And cry again
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
Your troubled heart
Feels my pain.
Lifted up to die
Bitter gall served fresh
As wine
Yet you'd do it again
For one lost sheep
That beats in the air.
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
When is it enough?
So much grief
You swallow up
Yet you bore it
And demand me live-
Man of sorrow
I humbled myself down.
All glory to you
Man of sorrow
All thrones belong to you
Man of pain
You gave me life and
Even more
I have nothing
But myself to give -
Yet I keep taking it back
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
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A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes
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A way to end
These sorrows I had thought forgotten
Now I feel my hope has rotten
So shortly lived and quick to die
Or perhaps it found its wings to fly
To another soul who thought to borrow
A way to end this pain and sorrow
A short-lived victor in happy times
Until he returns to write his lines
Of a life that seems so cold to him
For he's never to go home again
Now he feels that he is hollow
Left with only pain and sorrow
There is no escape for him he fears
Drowning himself in his tears
It seems an ocean that he's made
He shakes, he knows that he's afraid
Because he'll never see tommorrow
It's hard to live with pain and sorrow
poem by Robert Sierra
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It's going to be the year of the sharp elbow and the quick tongue.
quote by George W. Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Immortalize Lameness
mother gang at elbow worker of vegetable salesgirl
at the same time fiddle faddle
how its stomach is price in this time
and how the husband do not visit to add the
their expense money
at elbow its boost the high rise physical plant
what its dweller is incoming exit of car
pass in front of the them
they expense have never here
they expense of through phoning
goods is ushering
in their priest enquire
whether this Iameness as God destiny
or there is invisible hand
making them lame
or intellectual result the best craft of the brain
to immortalize Iameness.
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Back To You
i am here
at par with you
my peer
we shall appear
on same designer clothes
now
i can afford it
i am glad finally
that i have made it
on the
21st century
touch my elbow
we go elbow to elbow now
for you have been my giant
and i was your dwarf
because you have looked at me
with disdain
but now, i am happy to have made
it on your century
my God if you only knew it
got demoted really
from my own time
on the 30th
light years ago
touching myself
trying to be human again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dear Sorrow, Death Awaits Your Acquaintance
The rain keeps Falling
And the Pain goes on
Your name I try calling
But the words just pass on by
The air
Bitter and cold
The shivers now suddenly unfold
I start to lose my breath
And once again see death
Face to Face we see
That life for me, isn't supposed to be
'She is Not important,
Shes lost in the shadows..
Drowning in grief and pain
There will be no tomorrow,
For she is all Sorrow'
'She is all sorrow'
There shall be no Tomorrow for Dear Sweet Sorrow.
Sorrow, Sorrow In the air
Death Has come so stay prepared.
poem by Sorrow Lynn
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We have no time to laugh
In the broadfield of life
We find only pain and sorrow
Those who pose to be joyous
Are laughing at themselves
Let's think what is there to smile
A short span of life?
Sixty, seventy, probably hundred years
Is not enough to make us joyful
As we have to present our account
Before Him
In such a short period
We can't do much to please Him
Then why should we be happy?
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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In Sorrow
In sorrow
She mourns her beloved son
What's next to follow
No one knows
In sorrow
He mourns his beloved daughter
What's next to follow
His heart is hollow
In sorrow
She mourns her beloved husband
What's next to follow
She is now a widow
In sorrow
He mourns his beloved wife
What's next to follow
His desire for life is renounced to zero
In sorrow
They mourn the passing of a dear friend
Someone they wished to be there tomorrow
It hurts without pretext, whatever sorrow sends
And we know and I know
Sorrow returns not the life's it borrows
Sorrow is a walking deadly shadow
Sorrow is the virus we dread tomorrow
Sorrow is the devils spell of lethal horrors
Therefore my dear fellows
In sorrow no more I mourn her sorrow
In sorrow
I have closed on her all my doors and windows
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Ode 300: Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
From: Book of Ode
Period: Spring and Autumn
Dynasty: Eastern Zhou
Section: Songs of Wei State
(Collected by Confucius)
Translated by Laijon Liu (2007.08.14)
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who forgot his home and course.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And why he refuses to come into my room?
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who forgot my love and grace.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
Why he leaves me alone in my empty room?
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who lost his honor and Heaven’s bliss.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And I should forget him, away with sorrow.
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
You rise from east with shining rays.
Ah- my daddy and my mommy,
My husband loves me no more.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And I will not suffer in sorrow any more!
Note:
The poet may be a young and just married wife lived in State of Wei. She complained about her husband that stopped loving her. And she eventually thinks wisely that “Anyway he does not keep his vow, so she gives up her sorrow, or maybe seeks a new beginning.”
From:
http: //laijonliu.blogspot.com/
poem by Laijon Liu
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Down in the dark
Down in the dark, it’s all in my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
I want it to leave, but it wants to stay,
I try and I try, but he won’t go away,
There by day, there at night,
Saying the things, that fills me with fright,
I’m down in the dark, it fills my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
He’s always around, lurking inside,
Watching; waiting, my hands are tied,
In my head, always near,
In my thoughts, building the fear,
Down in the dark, filling my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
The pain; it grows, bursting within,
The dark; he’s back, with his terror filled grin,
“I’ll help”; he says, talking to me,
“I know what to do, just come and see, ”
Down in the dark, it filled my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
My thoughts are violent, with sorrow in my chest,
I just close my eyes, and hope for the best,
He tells me good job, I’ll find the light,
But my life is ending, with the chill of the night.,
Dead in the dark, lost in my head,
No more pain or sorrow, not even dread….,
poem by Jacob Hill
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Shipmate Sorrow
I was shipmates with Sorrow in a day gone by;
We shared the wheel and look-out, old Sorrow and I:
Good times and bad times, foul weather and fair,
The old grey face of him was always there.
There was never shanty raised there, never song I heard,
But his voice would be in it like a crying bird;
I was dull in the dog watches when the laugh went free
Because of old Sorrow sitting down by me.
I thought I could lose him in the stir and change
Of bright wicked cities all sunlit and strange;
There came a hand at my elbow and a voice in my ear -
It was patient Sorrow saying: 'Lad, I'm here!'
And by the bustling harbour, up the busy street,
Many a time I see him, many a time I meet
The old grey face there of one I used to know . . .
And it's old shipmate Sorrow out of long ago.
And the watch at the halliards, they may sing with a will,
But the voice I used to hear, oh I think I hear it still,
Like the wind in a shroud piping, or a seabird's cry . . .
And it's old Sorrow singing out of times gone by!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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Anguish, pain, misery, sorrow and retribution
Some say life is full of anguish,
old man once sang that life is full of pain
some even preach that life comes fully laced with misery and sorrow,
and some believe that life offers no retribution
ideas clearly instilled in the hearts and souls of many a man,
but the truth of the matter is,
life is anguish,
life is pain,
life is misery and sorrow,
in the same way as rain is water
and water is rain
for where can one get one`s own share of anguish,
who`d we ever have known pain if we never had life
without life, would we live through misery and sorrow
life in itself is retribution,
for he who has life can stand ground against
anguish, pain, misery and sorrow
and live to see brighter days seemingly unscathed
but woo to he who loses his life
in anguish, or pain, or misery , or sorrow
for he will receive no further retribution
and he will depart this earth with nothing but
anguish, pain, misery, sorrow
and retribution lost
poem by Tinashe Severa
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What More?
Pain of this life is so difficult to digest
Feelings of pain just increase in their dimensions
Measuring pain is next to being impossible
Sorrow, is just another word for pain
Although, when pain turns into suffering
Then the dimension of life achieves a totally different meaning
Since, life sometimes requires a healer in it
So that even the most painful of feelings, just fade away
Though, in my life pain never heals
As the sorrow just increases
Till, I actually start to torture myself
That is why I am so used to being hurt and being worn
What more can I say?
poem by Rohit Sapra
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Sorrow is better than insomnia.
Neither a sister, nor a daughter,
Nor any one by blood you are.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Never a tryst, nor a rendezvous,
Nor an innuendo, you granted.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Glamour, splendor, or pretext,
You never played to gravitate.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Formidable and forbidden you were.
Sojourn was so short.
Parting was abrupt and aborting.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Every beginning has an end.
An episode should, however, end.
But abortion and usurpation?
May be, by a boon I’ll see you soon.
That can retrieve our past monsoon.
But the crop is already gone.
So my sorrow never sleeps.
Time was over before I could score.
No more game is set up in the court.
That is why my sorrow never sleeps.
With your parting, came to an end
All my springs and monsoons.
Let my sorrow never sleep.
It is better than insomnia.
08.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Husband.
Husband is someone;
You spend most of your life with.
And with him;
You are for years.
My life has become strong;
For my husband is not wrong.
My life has become independent;
For my husband never let me dependent.
My life has become pure;
For my husband had every cure.
My life has become romantic;
For my husband is very aromatic.
My life had a new beginning;
For my husband was nearing.
And the most valuable gift-
My husband has given me;
Are my 2 wonderful and the best kids-
And I thank God,
For the wonderful family he has given me.
poem by Anju Addanki
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Sorrow Under Mist
Mist -
Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -
Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.
In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.
We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.
But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.
Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sorrow Rain
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Haiti I Feel Your Pain
My heart is as empty as a cave
My eyes are drier that a dry lake
Standing in the middle of sadness
My faith will turn into hope
Seeing everyone in pain
Makes me have pain
Pain equals sorrow
Sorrow is a nightmare i have at night
Haiti I feel your pain
But time will heel your pain
Just let it out
And let people know
Take negative thoughts
and make them positive
Tell me what you want
and hope and help will be on its way
Close your eyes and count to ten
everything will be okaii
poem by Mariama Barry
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My Future Husband - Keeng Royalness Troy Turner
Stay over there!
Said he of dark and golden hair.
Who me? Yes me Queen Royalty Patreni!
I am the girl Keeng Troy will wed.
Tho he may be a lover in a mauseoleum
Alone and nearly dead?
An explanation for my sorrow
An answer to why I am so sad?
My future husband is in a mauseoleum
My future husband is nearly dead.
I have traveled far to see him
For he is mine and for me to claim
My future husband is in a mauseoleum
My future husband is nearly dead.
Another explanation for my sorrow
My love with him will come tomorrow.
Someday soon I'll see Keeng Troy at home
And to my good love he is most welcome.
Then perhaps I will be so glad
To bring him back to life again
After he was nearly dead!
------
Written By: RoyaltyPatrenia Turner, Queen Of England
(I am an Undercover-Christian Rite Cherokee Indian, and
I am also a USA Poetry Queen since the good year 2009.)
poem by Queen Of England RoyaltyPatrenia Turner
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