It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.
quote by Marcus Tullius Cicero
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Another's Sorrow
Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?
Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?
Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,
And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear;
And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give His joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.
Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.
O! He gives to us His joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Aging Gracefully
You asked if I'd still love you if you lost all of your hair
Your baldness seems a tragedy: you want more fullness there.
It's strange the way we always wish for what we seem to lack
And anything that goes away is what we'd welcome back.
But hair-well that might be a different story all together
We grow it long or cut it short depening on the weather.
In time, it seems to him there's no such thing as too much hair
She spends her evenings waxing and goes shopping for more Nair.
It really is amusing as we old folks go to bed
She has too much; he has too little hair upon his head.
Perhaps a doctor may invent a way we all can win
By building him a grand toupee with hair plucked from her chin.
poem by Suzanne McNamee
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Sorrow
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
You acted funny trying to spend my money
Youre out there playing your high class games of sorrow
Sorrow
You never do what you know you oughta
Something tells me youre a devils daughter
Sorrow, sorrow
Ahhhh, oo, oooo
I tried to find her
cause I cant resist her (I tried to find her)
I never knew just how much I missed her
Sorrow
Sorrow
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh, ho-ho
With your long blonde hair
I couldnt sleep last night
With your long blonde hair
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Foolish Thing To Do
I was thinking just the other day
How it started in such a strange way
It ended in a strange way too
And this is why I am singing this song for you
Its a foolish thing to do
Such a foolish thing to do
Give your heart to someone new
Its a foolish thing to do
(yeah)
Weve all made the same mistakes
One foolish glance one smile we made
A hundred thousand feel this way
While other people are just waiting for the day
Its a foolish thing to do
Such a foolish foolish thing to do
Go when you want it
When you need it
Dont just believe it
For the first an last time
Stop !
Youd better look around
One day youll walk into the room
Your eyes will meet
Youll fall in love too soon
The next time you might hesitate
The chance is all those rooms have eyes
So dont forget
Its a foolish thing to do
Such a such a foolish thing to do
To go and give your heart and soul to someone new
Its a foolish foolish thing to do
So when you feel it
When you can touch it
And you believe it
For the first an last time
Stop !
Youd better look around
Its a foolish thing to do
Such a foolish thing to do
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The child tastes the tear
The tear is made of salt
The tear is made of water
The tear is made of the sea
But you cannot swim in it
The tear can leak down the cheek
The tear is like a good rhyme
The child wipes away the tear
The wipe is made of the hand
The hand is made by…who
The child thinks of the hand
The hand can shake a hand
The hand can slap a cheek
The hand can wipe the tear away
The hand and tear are made
The child is thinking
I am made too
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Baldness
Of your fathers gone by,
Where are they now?
Of your mothers gone by,
Where are they now?
Like the baldness on one's head because,
Man does not live forever!
You are the son of Hystaspis,
And you have a turban upon your head;
But do speak the truth always!
Because, life in the city is full of the truth.
Of the old men and women,
Living in the city of truth;
But like the tents of Cushan in afflection,
So is the baldness now upon the earth.
The earth is divided by rivers!
Like the sweet wine from the mountains;
And the waters of the sea do pave the way like,
The buying of the poor with silver!
But like the day that i became a foreigner,
My feet became like that of a deer.
Baldness is upon the earth like,
A basket full of sweet fruits;
But to buy the needy for a pair of shoes is like,
The sadness in every man's home.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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This movie is a toupee made up to look like honest baldness.
quote by Pauline Kael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grief
I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow;
I called out,
“It tastes sweet, does it not? ”
Grief answered;
“Oh, you’ve caught me and ruined my business,
How can I sell sorrow, when you know it’s a blessing? ”
(Inspired by Rumi)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Sonnet 07
Grief dies like joy; the tears upon my cheek
Will disappear like dew. Dear God! I know
Thy kindly Providence hath made it so,
And thank thee for the law. I am too weak
To make a friend of Sorrow, or to wear,
With that dark angel ever by my side
(Though to thy heaven there be no better guide),
A front of manly calm. Yet, for I hear
How woe hath cleansed, how grief can deify,
So weak a thing it seems that grief should die,
And love and friendship with it, I could pray,
That if it might not gloom upon my brow,
Nor weigh upon my arm as it doth now,
No grief of mine should ever pass away.
poem by Henry Timrod
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Realization
An idea came to my mind,
I went inside to find
A paper and a pen
And sat down in my den.
The pen moved on
I don’t know when my maids were gone.
After I had poured out my heart,
I looked at the paper with a start.
It was tear stained
Outside it had started to rain.
Some unseen power had guided my hand.
I had just begun with a thin strand.
I walked around perplexed,
I hadn’t known this is how I felt.
How foolish to think I had written it.
God, you only know how I feel in the pit
of my belly. The sense of me, I am the doer,
evaporated, as I read the poem over and over
again. I am not as articulate and lucid.
I can’t string the words in such a fluid
way. Thank God, for helping me know how I feel,
And showing me a way to deal
with pain, sorrow and grief.
I don’t have to worry as long as I believe
I am you, you are me.
Though the naked eye can not see.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Ice Cream Hair
My mom's hair is made of Chocolate Ice Cream.
My dad's hair is made of Mint Ice Cream.
My sister's hair is made of Vanilla Ice Cream.
My halve sister's hair is made of Strawberry Ice Cream.
My brother's hair is made of Coconut Ice Cream.
My halve brother's hair is made of Blue Berry Ice Cream.
My baby sister's hair is made of Banana Split Ice Cream.
What is my hair made out of?
All of the above,
and a hint of sprinkles; -) .
poem by Jasmine Aira
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A Heart Spring
One tear today, one love tomorrow
My heart springs from everyday sorrow.
A light blue, a scarlet red
into my soul those colors spread.
The hand of love me clench then said
‘Your sorrow is my love, my love your sorrow
to this I pledge and to this do wed'
Then my love cried with rain in my head
And declared to me that sorrow from joy must always borrow,
so one tear today can be one love tomorrow.
My heart sprang like the flowers in spring,
as her voice sang, that beautiful thing.
To sorrow, to love, to joy I sing…..
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Menaphon: Sephesta's Song to her Child
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy;
-
When thy father first did see
-
Such a boy by him and me,
-
He was glad, I was woe,
-
Fortune changed made him so,
-
When he left his pretty boy
-
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
Streaming tears that never stint,
-
Like pearl-drops from a flint,
-
Fell by course from his eyes,
-
That one another's place supplies;
-
Thus he griev'd in every part,
-
Tears of blood fell from his heart,
-
When he left his pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
The wanton smil'd, father wept,
-
Mother cried, baby leapt;
-
More he crow'd, more he cried,
-
Nature could not sorrow hide:
-
He must go, he must kiss
-
Child and mother, baby bless,
-
For he left his pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Not, My Wanton
WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe:
Fortune changèd made him so,
When he left his pretty boy,
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
Streaming tears that never stint,
Like pearl drops from a flint,
Fell by course from his eyes,
That one another's place supplies:
Thus he grieved in every part,Tears of blood fell from his heart,
When he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
The wanton smiled, father wept;
Mother cried, baby lept;
More he crowed, more we cried;
Nature could not sorrow hide.
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bliss;
For he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cry a tear
Cry a tear for the women of abuse
Cry a tear for those who abuse
Cry a tear those in broken marraiges
Cry a tear for everyone who feels used
Cry a tear for the teens of prostitution
Cry a tear for the teens on drugs
Cry a tear for teens under pressure
Cry a tear for teens without love
Cry a tear for the child of slave labour
Cry a tear for the child of rape
Cry a tear for the people who did this to them
Cry a tear for all those who hate
Cry a tear for HIV/AIDS
Cry a tear for destroyed homes
Cry a tear for the wickedness of suicide
Cry a tear for everyone who feels alone
Cry a tear for people in jail
Cry a tear for those who sin
Cry a tear for people who have lost someone
Cry a tear for those who cheat to win
Cry a tear for alcoholics
Cry a tear for people on the streets
Cry a tear for youngsters involved in crime
Cry a tear for everyone you meet
Cry a tear for abandoned babies
Cry a tear for poverty
Cry a tear for all the racism
Cry a tear for you and me
poem by Natasha Potter
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Foolish Pride
When Im hurt then I come on strong
I wanna break down
But I just keep it in
Being too strong is a weakness, girl
cause when you fight the world
You know whos gonna win
And you say I wont look you in the eye
Its like talking to a wall
But a wall can crumble down
Yeah theres something thats deep inside
Thats gotta be tough
Whenever youre around
Ive got this foolish pride
And pride goes before a fall
Yeah Ive got this foolish pride
You make me feel like the livin end
But the end came quick
And made me wanna die
So I played like I didnt care
Didnt mess my hair
Believe me I dont know why
Ive got this foolish pride
And pride goes before a fall
Yeah Ive got this foolish pride
If I wanted I colled have fooled em all
Thats great til tomorrow when Im all alone
You know the truth comes out in the end
When the fools start falling they need their friends
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me & My Broken Heart
Writer - hank williams
(f) we were waiting at the (c) church,
We watched and saw the wedding (g7) start,
As the (f) organ played, we (c) stood there and prayed,
Just (g7) me and my broken (c) heart.
Oh, (g7) cant you see what you have (c) done, (c7)
To (f) me, oh foolish foolish (c) pride, (c7)
(f) you brought tears and sorrow (c) to,
An (g7) untrue heart that never (c) cried.
I (g7) saw the sunshine of my (c) life, (c7)
Who (f) once I know just worshiped (c) me, (c7)
(f) standin by anothers (c) side,
And (g7) soon his bride shell (c) be.
(f) I bowed my head in grief and (c) shame,
As I felt the teardrops (g7) start,
But as the (f) organ played, we (c) stood there and prayed,
Just (g7) me and my broken (c) heart.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 78. Again at Christmas did we weave
Again at Christmas did we weave
The holly round the Christmas hearth;
The silent snow possess'd the earth,
And calmly fell our Christmas-eve:
The yule-log sparkled keen with frost,
No wing of wind the region swept,
But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.
As in the winters left behind,
Again our ancient games had place,
The mimic picture's breathing grace,
And dance and song and hoodman-blind.
Who show'd a token of distress?
No single tear, no mark of pain:
O sorrow, then can sorrow wane?
O grief, can grief be changed to less?
O last regret, regret can die!
No--mixt with all this mystic frame,
Her deep relations are the same,
But with long use her tears are dry.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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A Crying Monk
Once there was a monk
with peaceful mind without junk.
At funeral, he usually preached,
pacifying the people with grief,
saying one would leave,
when one's life ceased,
crying and weeping was no need,
Buddha's teaching one must heed,
One's karma would lead
to either heaven or hell indeed.
One day, the monk's mother died sudden death.
He cried violently without catching the breath.
The funeral attendents consoled him,
to stop wailing and tear flowing.
He said it couldn't help,
he now experienced sorrow and grief by himself.
In my grief
In my grief
I have forgotten I have a friend
I have not remember there is YOU
Who are willing to wipe away my tears.
In my grief
I have hurt you my friend
I run hiding in my own cocoon
And left you alone wandering where I am
In my grief
I ignore you calling my name
I have close my eyes for your need of a friend
And left you alone in your lament
After my grief
I look for where you are
But couldn’t find you anymore
Coz you grew tired waiting for me
poem by Tear Drops
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