But to the slave mother New Year's day comes laden with peculiar sorrows. She sits on her cold cabin floor, watching the children who may all be torn from her the next morning; and often does she wish that she and they might die before the day dawns.
quote by Harriet Ann Jacobs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Keith Of Ravelston
The murmur of the mourning ghost
That keeps the shadowy kine,
'O Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!'
Ravelston, Ravelston,
The merry path that leads
Down the golden morning hill,
And thro' the silver meads;
Ravelston, Ravelston,
The stile beneath the tree,
The maid that kept her mother's kine,
The song that sang she!
She sang her song, she kept her kine,
She sat beneath the thorn,
When Andrew Keith of Ravelston
Rode thro' the Monday morn.
His henchman sing, his hawk-bells ring,
His belted jewels shine;
O Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
Year after year, where Andrew came,
Comes evening down the glade,
And still there sits a moonshine ghost
Where sat the sunshine maid.
Her misty hair is faint and fair,
She keeps the shadowy kine;
O Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
I lay my hand upon the stile,
The stile is lone and cold,
The burnie that goes babbling by
Says naught that can be told.
Yet, stranger! here, from year to year,
She keeps her shadowy kine;
O Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
Step out three steps, where Andrew stood -
Why blanch thy cheeks for fear?
The ancient stile is not alone,
'Tis not the burn I hear!
She makes her immemorial moan,
She keeps her shadowy kine;
O Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Nupial Eve (excerpt)
The murmur of the mourning ghost
That keeps the shadowy kine,
"Oh, Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!"
Ravelston, Ravelston,
The merry path that leads
Down the golden morning hill,
And thro' the silver meads;
Ravelston, Ravelston,
The stile beneath the tree,
The maid that kept her mother's kine,
The song that sang she!
She sang her song, she kept her kine,
She sat beneath the thorn,
When Andrew Keith of Ravelston
Rode thro' the Monday morn.
His henchmen sing, his hawk-bells ring,
His belted jewels shine!
Oh, Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
Year after year, where Andrew came,
Comes evening down the glade,
And still there sits a moonshine ghost
Where sat the sunshine maid.
Her misty hair is faint and fair,
She keeps the shadowy kine;
Oh, Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
I lay my hand upon the stile,
The stile is lone and cold,
The burnie that goes babbling by
Says nought that can be told.
Yet, stranger! here, from year to year,
She keeps her shadowy kine;
Oh, Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
Step out three steps, where Andrew stood--
Why blanch thy cheeks for fear?
The ancient stile is not alone,
'Tis not the burn I hear!
She makes her immemorial moan,
She keeps her shadowy kine;
Oh, Keith of Ravelston,
The sorrows of thy line!
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All Alone
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
HER CHILDREN GROWN
WITH FAMILY OF THEIR OWN
SHE WONDERS WHAT HAPPEN
CHILDREN ALL OF THREE
THEY HAVE GROWN LIKE FRUIT UPON THE TREES
GRANDCHILDREN SHE HAS SIX
GETTING HARDER TO REMEMBER THEIR NAMES
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
NO ONE COMES TO VISIT
HER GRANDCHILDREN DOESN, T KNOW HER
HER CHILDREN HAS FORSAKEN HER
SHE WONDERS WHY
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE LOVED HER CHILDREN DEARLY
WANTED NOTHING BUT THE BEST
WORKED HARD AND WENT WITHOUT
HER CHILDREN SHE WOULD DIE FOR
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE WONDERS WHY
SHE THOUGHT THEY WOULD BE AROUND HER
LIKE ALL MOTHERS DO
GET TOGETHERS ON SUNDAYS
SEE A MOVIE OR TWO
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE REEKS HER BRAIN
WONDERS WHAT DID SHE EVER DO
TO GET SUCH COLD TREATMENT
FROM THE BABIES SHE ONCE KNEW
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
THE ANGELS CAME AND CARRIED HER HOME
poem by Verna Ralph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fisherman
He sits by the shore
all day long casting his bait
line after line
into the lake fishing
hoping for that bite
the kind that makes his day
but nothing comes
he sits there alone
only thoughts for company
what goes through his head
while he sits there
watching cold eyed
the open lake before him
is he at peace
or making plans
who could say
he just sits there alone
watching
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Morning
In the morning when the moon is at its rest,
You will see me at the time I love the best
Watching rainbows play on sunlight;
Pools of water iced from cold night,in the morning.
tis the morning of my life.
In the daytime I will meet you as before.
You will find me waiting by the ocean floor,
Building castles in the shifting sands
In a world that no one understands,
In the morning.
tis the morning of my life,
In the morning of my life the
Minutes take so long to drift away
Please be patient with your life
Its only morning and youre still to live your day
In the evning I will fly you to the moon
To the top right hand corner of
The ceiling in my room
Where wll stay until the sun shines
Another day to swing on clothes lines
May I be yawning
It is the morning of my life
It is the morning of my life
In the morning
In the morning
In the morning
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In The Morning
(1966) barry gibb
In the morning when the moon is at its rest,
You will see me at the time I love the best
Watching rainbows play on sunlight;
Pools of water iced from cold night,in the morning.
tis the morning of my life.
In the daytime I will meet you as before.
You will find me waiting by the ocean floor,
Building castles in the shifting sands
In a world that no one understands,
In the morning.
tis the morning of my life,
In the morning of my life the
Minutes take so long to drift away
Please be patient with your life
Its only morning and youre still to live your day
In the evning I will fly you to the moon
To the top right hand corner of
The ceiling in my room
Where wll stay until the sun shines
Another day to swing on clothes lines
May I be yawning
It is the morning of my life
It is the morning of my life
In the morning
In the morning
In the morning
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Mother Is Dying: Part 2 (Filicide)
Mother is infuriated
Mother is irritated
Mother is agitated
Mother is aggravated
Tormented by Her children
Sickened by Her children
Scarred by Her children
She is beginning to die
Mother was gentle
Mother was accepting
Mother was enduring
Though mother is now corrupted,
Similar to Her children
Her anger boils from her very core
Swirling vortexes of hatred dominate the skies
Her loathe floods Her children’s lives
The incarnate of Her disgust with Her children
Is devastating and cataclysmic
Her children can no longer find
Sanctuary from mother’s mercy
Mother is too enraged to rationalize
Mother will create The Rapture.
Mother will cause The Apocalypse.
Mother will eliminate humanity.
Mother will commit filicide.
poem by Alex Gomez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Mother's Grief
There are no sorrows
Like a mother's grief
No one can ever know
And it is never brief.
The pain she carries
Is like daily death
Though memory buries
She cannot forget.
Where would she run
For a healing balm?
Tears for a lost son
Though shed, could not calm
A baneful mother's heart
For the death was so tragic
It had torn her apart
And for justice they seek
I pray her son's killers
Be caught to serve time
Heal this grieving mother
Knowing they pay the crime.
--------
This poem was about my friend, a mother whose son was brutally stabbed to death by two drug addicts while he was working late at night driving a tricycle. He was father to two small children.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cabin Down Below
Come on go with me babe
Come on go with me girl
Baby, lets go
T o the cabin down below
I got a radio
Put in on soft and low
Baby lets go
To the cabin down below
Well, Ive had my eye on you
For a long, long time
Im watching every thing you do
Baby, youre gonna be mine
Come on go with me babe
Come on go with me girl
Baby, lets go
To the cabin down below
Times been moving slow
Since we both got here
Come on slide a little closer
Let me whisper in your ear
Well I got a radio
Put in on soft and low
Baby lets go
To the cabin down below
Oh, baby, lets go
To the cabin down below
Baby, lets love
In the cabin down below
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When the Day's Just Beginning, I Pray for My End
When the morning dawns.
I wake in haste.
I'm praying real hard for my end.
Life's experiences have driven me around the bend.
With out an ounce of dignity left to spend.
As the new days dawns.
I hope no one mourns.
I want my life to end.
It has twisted me around the bend.
As my days go on.
My pain does not end.
Fear not I have a plan.
I shall take my life tonight.
As the new days dawns.
My life is dying out.
I did the act of suicide.
I'm almost gone.
When this new day looms.
I am dead and cold.
When your new day looms.
Do not grive, do not mourn.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Peculiar Situation
(clarke / hicks / nash)
We take walks in storms on rainy nights
When its cold I hold you close to me
When we dine you help me choose the wine
Its these things that mean so much to me
Aint this a peculiar situation
Were lovers but we dont make love
But when these things mean so much to us
Well, thats all right
I dont think your father is too rich
And I know your mother has good taste
And its not because youre beautiful
When youre busy you find time for me
Aint this a peculiar situation
Were lovers but we dont make love
But when these things mean so much to us
Well, thats all right
But when these things mean so much to us
Well, thats all right
You do well at things that interest you
When asked out you never turn away
If youre wrong you dont mind saying so
Not too proud to phone me when youre down
Aint this a peculiar situation
Were lovers but we dont make love
But when these things mean so much to us
Well, thats all right
Aint this a peculiar situation
Aint this a peculiar situation
Aint this a peculiar situation
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Video Violence
The currents rage deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Up in the morning, drinking his coffee
Turns on the tv to some slasher movie
Cartoon-like women, tied up and sweaty
Painting and screaming, thank you, have a nice day
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
His heart is pounding he switches the channel
Looking for something other than rape or murder
Or beatings or torture but except for walt disney
Its a twisted alliance, this age of video violence
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
The current rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Down at his job, his boss sits there screaming
If he loses his job, then life loses its meaning
His son is in high school, theres nothing hes learning
He sits by the tv, watching corvettes exploding, cause
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Down at a bar some woman is topless
Shes acned and scarred, her hair is a mess
While he shoves 5 dollars down her exotic panties
The video jukebox is, ah, playing madonna
While just down the block at some local theater
Theyre grabbing their crotches at the 13th beheading
As the dead rise to live, the live sink to die
The currents are deep and raging inside
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason is landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Our good working stiff looks a whore in the eye
Ties her to a bed
While he beats her back bloody and then back -
- at home, drinking more instant coffee
Calls some red-neck evangelist that hes seen on tv and says
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason is landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep upon us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep down inside us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Christmas Zen #1
small children with dirty faces
playing on a cold floor;
rags stuffed in cracks,
'round the windowsills
roaches run up the walls,
Christmas music on the radio
cut off notice on the table;
young woman stares, half dreaming,
of stockings with nuts and oranges
(& the remembered scent of hot chocolate!)
crack pipe falls to the floor
as snow begins to fall
small children with dirty faces
playing on a cold floor
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother! Oh Mother
Mother! oh mother!
Where are your children?
Where have they been?
Where have they lost?
Mother! oh mother
Am on you
Yet can't see you
Is you don't like me
Or you don't like us
Mother! your children
Some on edges
Many at peaks
Why are all not equal
Are all not your children?
Maa I understand you
You have lost your children
You are been polluted all over
Maa my mother
Please batter your creation
Batter and make it new
This is a humble request
From one of your children.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Not so cold, some snow fell. I went inside the log cabin and said goodbye to Mother, she was so alike grandmother, just younger.
quote by Anders Zorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Watching And Waiting
Watching the world fly by as I sit here
Waiting for you to come for so long
I've turned into a statue sitting here on this bench
waiting for you and watching the world fly by
People once looked at me now I'm just part of the scenery
Waiting for you to come for so long
watching the world fly by as I sit here
I think you forgot and the world did too
about the girl you once knew who now
sits here waiting for you never knowing that you'll never will
and watching the world fly by as she sits there
poem by Amanda Shields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Day Nearer Spring
The weather cold this morning it is only two degrees
And a thick fog through the woodland, I can hardly see the trees
And the wildborn birds are silent there is scarcely any breeze
It's a day for woolly jumper though not cold enough to freeze.
For Winter in Victoria the weather seems quite dry
And the mornings foggy and quite cold allowing for July
And the fog doesn't lift till mid morning and the sun shines through the gray
And you see the grayness of your breath on a chilly Winter
day.
But only yesterday I saw male blackbird searching for a nesting site
On the ivy along galvanize fence in mid afternoon sunlight
And from there he flew to camellia tree as he pondered on where best
Might be the safest place for him and his mate to build their year's first nest.
The last leaves off of deciduous tree lay scattered on the ground
And in the grayness of the dawn the silence is profound,
The ghost like trees shrouded in gray and the birds refuse to sing
But every Winter day that dawns is one day nearer Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Little Bird
The father sits in his lonely room,
Outside sings a little bird.
But the shadows are laden with death and gloom,
And the song is all unheard.
The father's heart is the home of sorrow;
His breast is the seat of grief!
Who will hunt the paper for him on the morrow -
Who will bring him sweet relief
From wearing his thoughts with innocent chat?
Who will find his slippers and bring his hat?
Still the little bird sings
And flutters her wings;
The refrain of her song is, 'Gos knows best!
He giveth His little children rest.'
What can she know of these sorrowful things?
The mother sits by the desolate hearth,
And weeps o'er a vacant chair.
Sorrow has taken the place of mirth -
Joy has resigned to despair.
Bitter the cup the mother is drinking,
So bitter the tear-drops start.
Sad are the thoughts the mother is thinking -
Oh, they will break her heart.
Who will on errands, and romp and play,
And mimic the robins the livelong day?
Still the little bird sings
And flutters her wings;
'God reigns in heaven, and He will keep
The dear little children that fall asleep.'
What can she know of these sorrowful things?
Grandmother sits by the open door,
And her tears fall down like rain.
Was there ever a household so sad before,
Will it ever be glad agaiin?
Many unwelcome thoughts come flitting
Into the granddame's mind.
Who will take up the stitches she drops in knitting?
Who will her snuff-box find?
Who'll bring her glasses, and wheel her chair,
And tie her kerchief, and comb her hair?
Still the little bird sings
And flutters her wings;
'God above doeth all things well,
I sang it the same when my nestlings fell.'
Ah! this knows the bird of these sorrowful things.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Laying next to you
Laying next to you,
Hearing you breathe,
Watching you suffer,
Watching the blood tears run down your face,
I can’t wash away your pain,
You can’t wash away my endless sorrows,
Laying next you feel as if I was laying down alone,
Watching you walk away,
Watching you leave out of my life,
It hurts me inside,
My endless sorrows made me cry,
I try hard to not show it,
To show what you mean to me,
Laying next to you makes me feel all warm inside,
Just talking to you makes me have butterflies in my stomach,
Just watching you smile makes me smile,
Just watching you fade away makes me wanna hurt myself,
One thing I ever wanted in life was you.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Miss Hawthorne
At half till noon
on Tuesday morn
in the chapel room
on threaded carpet torn,
sits little children ‘round
the new schoolteacher,
Miss Hawthorne.
They sing “Jesus loves me,
this I know, for the Bible
tells me so”. They read
John 3: 16, “For God
so loved the world, that
he gave…”
How easy to have
trust, how easy to be on
fire. When the deepest
pains are skinned knees,
growing bones, lost teeth not
being alone. Being lost,
lukewarm.
They spoke as children do;
understood as children would;
thought as children can.
Miss Hawthorne, on the rug
torn bare, cannot
prepare the little children
for the world that tears.
For the scars they will
wear upon the brow. How
easy to lose sight of God’s
love amidst the callous, drear
love the world returns, when one
hopes too hard and finds none of
it near.
2010
poem by Ryan Glover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!