The sight of books removes sorrows from the heart.
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Reading books removes sorrows from the heart.
The sight of books removes sorrow from the heart.
Time.
The books l have read,
The faces l have seen;
The places l have been to_
And the joys that l have known
And all the sorrows l walked through;
This if l add it all up:
To the knowledge undiscovered,
People l have never seen;
Places and pleasures untrodden and unknown;
And still, the sorrows unearthed....
Makes my time.
poem by Tafadzwa Matamba
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Sink Your Sorrows
Look into a mirror
For there are your sorrows.
Align another one
And yes your Sorrows are compounded-
But it is artificial
As the pulse of your heart on your breath.
Sink your Sorrows through that mirror of the sea's surface,
Aligning in wave after wave
Of the moon's captivity,
And let the tides become your heart,
And the seabreeze your breath.
Sink your sorrows into the sea.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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When a woman removes her garment, she also removes the respect that is hers.
The Sorrows of the Blind
Pity the sorrows of the poor blind,
For they can but little comfort find;
As they walk along the street,
They know not where to put their feet.
They are deprived of that earthly joy
Of seeing either man, woman, or boy;
Sad and lonely through the world they go,
Not knowing a friend from a foe:
Nor the difference betwixt day and night,
For the want of their eyesight;
The blind mother cannot see her darling boy,
That was once her soul's joy.
By day and night,
Since she lost her precious sight;
To her the world seems dark and drear,
And she can find no comfort here.
She once found pleasure in reading books,
But now pale and careworn are her looks.
Since she has lost her eyesight,
Everything seems wrong and nothing right.
The face of nature, with all its beauties and livery green,
Appears to the blind just like a dream.
All things beautiful have vanished from their sight,
Which were once their heart's delight.
The blind father cannot see his beautiful child, nor wife,
That was once the joy of his life;
That he was wont to see at morn and night,
When he had his eyesight.
All comfort has vanished from him now,
And a dejected look hangs on his brow.
Kind Christians all, both great and small,
Pity the sorrows of the blind,
They can but little comfort find;
Therefore we ought to be content with our lot,
And for the eyesight we have got,
And pray to God both day and night
To preserve our eyesight;
To be always willing to help the blind in their distress,
And the Lord will surely bless
And guard us by night and day,
And remember us at the judgment day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Arrivals push the existing.
Discovery outdates the old theories.
Invention removes old practices.
Knowledge removes superstitions.
Experience amends opinions.
I rewrite my thoughts repeatedly.
20.01.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sorrows
My sorrows consumes me,
There won’t be a tomorrow,
There won’t be a light that shines above me,
There won’t be me anymore,
The way I feel,
The hate I feel,
My heart is breaking,
Its aching,
I am crying for this pain to end,
Today is no ordinary day for me,
Today’s the day I feel more drifting apart from this world,
My sorrows won’t go away,
My deep thoughts in my head leaves me laying dead,
I didn’t mean to lead this pain on and on again,
Look at me now,
I am falling apart,
Apart into million pieces,
This sorrow keeps on going into my thoughts,
This heart break makes me wanna cry over and over again,
My sorrows won’t fade away,
Is this me,
The me I have been waiting for,
Too many times my sorrows has over come me,
This is not me anymore,
This is my sorrows that makes me feel all sad inside.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Cruelty
To catch sight
Angel of such delight
Our time was short
Of this you sort.
For a man like me
A precious sight of thee
A cruel world bestows
Then it removes, you know.
Takes you away
For you to pray
A sip of wine
I know you'll be fine
I have no more say
How to end our day
A slow death for sure
Washed upon a shore
A message, in a flash
Cuts my mind, like a lash.
I pen for solace in my poems
I may as well look for omens
poem by Robert Green
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Sorrow Makes One A Hero Tomorrow
Without sorrow life is zero
We must accept fate's arrow
If our efforts are thorough
Our sorrow, God will borrow
Sorrows nicely shape our mind
Sorrows stop our being blind
Via sorrows, remedies we find
Sorrows are indirectly kind
In the absence of sorrow
Our mind does not grow
We think not like a hero
Our attitude is made narrow
Sorrows must be overcome
For which efforts we welcome
At last strong we become
This is sorrows' outcome
Our will-power, sorrows increase
To our heart, sorrows supply grease
Our talents, only sorrows release
In a gist, sorrows supply peace
Every sorrow at last dies
Not because of our cries
But because our soul tries
Life and success, sorrow ties
Sorrow less person is none
Sorrow is sure, if life has begun
'Sorrow trains brains' is a slogan
Sorrow is a tamable dragon
In sorrow, all must dip
By coming under its grip
All are lashed by sorrow's whip
To every life, sorrow makes a trip
Now sorrow will somehow vanish
But you cannot fully relinquish
Further sorrows, time will furnish
From life, sorrow, none can banish
Life and sorrow are closely associated
By life, sorrow is very much fascinated
By sorrow, peace is initially confiscated
Sorrow grows when life is sophisticated.
poem by Mailrangam Visvanathan Venkataraman
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Sonnet: Sorrows Purify Our Soul
When sorrows visit in quick succession,
And there’s no time to reason out or cry:
When mind and soul are in eclipsed session,
From the very beginning, then tears dry.
How much of sorrows can a heart withstand?
How much of stress and strain can humans take?
The anguish seems to even flood the land,
When earthly living seems almost a fake.
But, God made man to bear any despair,
And sorrows crown our life but not for long;
Most often life appears very unfair;
But listen Man, for joyful is His song.
Yet, sorrows purify my soul, O God!
It makes me fit for Heaven’s Abode, Lord.
6-25-2001
poem by John Celes
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The Way To God's Heart
God's heart is the seed of gloom
There he's springs and his love loom
Sorrow is the path one weary boy trods
To heaven's heart, the heart of God's
The weary boy wallows in sorrows past
Till God's heart he reaches at very last
In sorrow the weary boy does vent
To God's heart where his sins repent.
With sorrow God sews him to his breast
In his heart's palm his sorrows lay rest
To know sorrow is to understand
And live in truth of God's heartland
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Death
Death overcomes me
It removes all my pain
As I sit asunder and
Watch them remove me
I watch the people
Cleanse my body
If only they could,
My soul
All the wrong I've
Done, I've now come to understand
All the good I
Did will never
Be enough
I should have done
What I could
Before death
Came to me
But I prefer
It this way
As death removes me
I can no longer sin...
20080126©
poem by scarlette Phoenix
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Dad and Me
Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
Books on the bookshelf and surrounding it,
Books all over the house, every single bit!
Not a one of these books are non-fiction,
Different worlds are their depiction.
Fictional, sci-fi, dark and fantasy,
Horror and happy, more books for me!
Books belonging to my father,
Or belonging to me as I rather.
My father and I in bookworm heaven,
Until mum cleans up around half past seven.
She throws the books in a huff,
Says it's a mess and to clean it up!
Well dad and I try to clean,
But on the work we quickly wean
And in one of the larger nooks
You'll find dad and me reading our books.
poem by Lenore Lee
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The Sorrows Of the Seas
Look out at the sea,
You feel it,
But it is not the sea you feel is it,
It is but your soul,
Traped in the sarrows of the seas,
It never is but a sea,
Walk along the beach,
Cry and pray to the waves,
All you can see is but the sarrows of the sea,
Alone I sit,
Alone I cry,
Alone is but the sea,
Alone my soul alone my shadow,
It is the sorrows of the sea,
Cry to your self,
Cry to the sorrows of the sea,
I am alone,
I am alone and only I and Me know,
And the sorrows of the sea,
I am but the sorrows of the sea,
poem by Samantha Guinen
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Soul, Life...
no poem teaches us poetry
not an ant
thology of laureated
poets, the books of grammar
teaches only
places and the pauses
like a flower arrangement
do you still have life?
it is the one that teaches
all things and leads you
to all places
grammar and then
metaphors of
what sorrows, lamentations,
grief, greed,
joys, ecstacies.
bliss,
it is the vase with water
the one in the garden that you choose to cut
and aver and adore
not books, not other person's poems
yours truly....
do you have a soul?
it is
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Drown my sorrows
Drown me,
Drown my depression,
Drown my sorrows,
All the things I have done hurts me inside,
I told myself that everything will be alright,
We shared so much,
All I ever asked myself to drown my sorrows,
When I look back the picture of how happy were,
I wish things will be fine between us,
Drown my sorrows,
Wash away the pain,
Wipe away my tears,
The chapter of my life is incomplete,
I was complete once but ever since I let you go,
I lost apart of me,
Drown me,
Drown my sorrows.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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The Pan Of Sorrows
I will give you the grain of tears,
Roast my sorrows in your pan,
O, tender of the fire.
Tender of the fire, branch of magnolia,
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
I am late already,
The shadows are fading,
The cattle have returned,
From the forest.
The birds have raised their clamor.
Roast my sorrows in your pan,
Tender of the fire.
Hurry, be quick,
I have far to go,
To the place
Where my companions have gone.
I have heard the road to that town is difficult
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
Tender of the fire.
When my turn comes,
Your bale of kindling is damp.
Why has your earthen pan
Become flaccid?
What has gone wrong with your fire?
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
Tender of the fire.
Mine is just a handful of grains,
Roast them, and let me go on my way,
Don't leave them raw,
Roast them well.
I beg you, bring an end to this wrangling,
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
Tender of the fire.
The wind has dropped,
Its mournful weeping ended.
A sweet heat
Is rising in the stars.
My breaths are like a marriage procession
Whose bridegroom is displeased.
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
O tender of the fire.
Tender of the fire, branch of magnolia,
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
poem by Shiv Kumar Batalvi
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Silver
In this land of strangers
There are dangers
There are sorrows
I cant see this lady
It is shady
I am leaving tomorrow
Tomorrow
Tomorrow
Even theres a reason
Its silver
Its gone
In this land of strangers
There are dangers
There are sorrows
Sorrows
Sorrows
Sorrows
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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