What makes old age so sad is not that our joys but our hopes cease.
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They are still existing.
Ideals realized,
They cease to be ideals.
Hopes attained,
They cease to be hopes.
Beliefs proven,
They cease to be beliefs.
Faiths established,
They cease to be faiths.
Mind, faith in god
And belief in His deeds
Are still existing.
29.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Cease
cease our pain God
Cease our anger God
Cease the war God
Cease the dark days God
Cease the rain God
Cease the strong winds that are blowing everywhere God
Cease our hunger God
Cease our thirst God
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Fragment: Home
Dear home, thou scene of earliest hopes and joys,
The least of which wronged Memory ever makes
Bitterer than all thine unremembered tears.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Hopes in Hopes
Hopes in Hopes
Hopes! what is this thing i hope for? is it a fantasy or a trick played by my mind.... at night i hope for things i imagined would someday become reality,
I hope that my imagination becomes reality, I hope that i dont have to hope to get the things i want.
But hopping in high expectation takes you a step forward, Hopes! , dreams are buit on hope, every moment i hope, i cant stop hopping! , but i cant help to think that hopes makes a person archived greater things, it helps a person think high, it helps a person taking higher step in life.
i hope this will be useful to people who hopes to find thier expectations, hopes are your dreams.
M.O
poem by Martin Onyesom
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Lines -- Far, Far Away, O Ye
I.
Far, far away, O ye
Halcyons of Memory,
Seek some far calmer nest
Than this abandoned breast!
No news of your false spring
To my heart’s winter bring,
Once having gone, in vain
Ye come again.
II.
Vultures, who build your bowers
High in the Future’s towers,
Withered hopes on hopes are spread!
Dying joys, choked by the dead,
Will serve your beaks for prey
Many a day.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Against Love
*
Hence Cupid! with your cheating toys,
Your real griefs, and painted joys,
Your pleasure which itself destroys.
Lovers like men in fevers burn and rave,
And only what will injure them do crave.
Men's weakness makes love so severe,
They give him power by their fear,
And make the shackles which they wear.
Who to another does his heart submit,
Makes his own idol, and then worships it.
Him whose heart is all his own,
Peace and liberty does crown,
He apprehends no killing frown.
He feels no raptures which are joys diseased,
And is not much transported, but still pleased.
*
poem by Katherine Philips
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Fancies Are But Streams
Fancies are but streams
Of vain pleasure:
They who by their dreams
True joys measure
Feasting, starve; laughing, weep;
Playing, smart. Whilst in sleep
Fools with shadows smiling,
Wake and find
Hopes like wind,
Idle hopes beguiling.
Thoughts fly away, Time hath past 'em;
Wake now, awake, see and taste 'em.
poem by Thomas Dekker
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The Last Prayer
MASTER of life, the day is done;
My sun of life is sinking low;
I watch the hours slip one by one
And hark the night-wind and the snow.
And must Thou shut the morning out,
And dim the eye that loved to see;
Silence the melody and rout,
And seal the joys of earth for me?
And must Thou banish all the hope,
The large horizon's eagle-swim,
The splendour of the far-off slope
That ran about the world's great rim,
That rose with morning's crimson rays
And grew to noonday's gloried dome,
Melting to even's purple haze
When all the hopes of earth went home?
Yea, Master of this ruined house,
The mortgage closed, outruns the lease;
Long since is hushed the gay carouse,
And now the windowed lights must cease.
The doors all barred, the shutters up,
Dismantled, empty, wall and floor,
And now for one grim eve to sup
With Death, the bailiff, at the door.
Yea, I will take the gloomward road
Where fast the Arctic nights set in,
To reach the bourne of that abode
Which Thou hast kept for all my kin.
And all life's splendid joys forego,
Walled in with night and senseless stone,
If at the last my heart might know
Through all the dark one joy alone.
Yea, Thou mayst quench the latest spark
Of life's weird day's expectancy,
Roll down the thunders of the dark
And close the light of life for me;
Melt all the splendid blue above
And let these magic wonders die,
If Thou wilt only leave me, Love,
And Love's heart-brother, Memory.
Though all the hopes of every race
Crumbled in one red crucible,
And melted, mingled into space,
Yet, Master, Thou wert merciful.
poem by William Wilfred Campbell
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Merry Christmas Santa Happy New Year!
Joys can come in many ways -
Especially on our Christmas Days:
New presents wrapped exquisitely...
New presents unwrapped expertly!
In times like these, the heart beats fast
For Christmas Day has come at last!
Excitement tempts us take a peak!
Remembered lists of gifts we seek!
If only all our days were so:
Season's wishes would overflow!
Look here! Look there! Look everywhere!
Our hopes and dreams fulfilled by prayer!
Visits by friends and folks we love -
Each acting gentle as a dove!
Lights on Christmas trees that cheer!
Yet Christmas joys come ONCE a year!
poem by Denis Martindale
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An adolescent is somebody who is in between things. A teenager is somebody who's kind of permanently there. And so living with them through the various teenage hopes and sorrows and joys was curiously enough a maturing experience for me.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy X: The Dream
Image of her whom I love, more than she,
Whose fair impression in my faithful heart
Makes me her medal, and makes her love me,
As Kings do coins, to which their stamps impart
The value: go, and take my heart from hence,
Which now is grown too great and good for me:
Honours oppress weak spirits, and our sense
Strong objects dull; the more, the less we see.
When you are gone, and Reason gone with you,
Then Fantasy is queen and soul, and all;
She can present joys meaner than you do;
Convenient, and more proportional.
So, if I dream I have you, I have you,
For, all our joys are but fantastical.
And so I 'scape the pain, for pain is true;
And sleep which locks up sense, doth lock out all.
After a such fruition I shall wake,
And, but the waking, nothing shall repent;
And shall to love more thankful sonnets make
Than if more honour, tears, and pains were spent.
But dearest heart, and dearer image, stay;
Alas, true joys at best are dream enough;
Though you stay here you pass too fast away:
For even at first life's taper is a snuff.
Filied with her love, may I be rather grown
Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.
poem by John Donne
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But I must own that I also felt stirred by an unselfish desire to voice all the joys and sorrows, the hopes and ambitions, of the American Negro, in classic musical form.
quote by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mango
in my youth
i did not wait for ripe mangoes
what we experience
is that
they are better eaten raw
sour
makes our tongues twist
and want for more
makes our eyes limp
and want for more
makes our tongues salivate
wanting for more
more of raw life, green hopes,
powerful stains that
mark our puberty pangs
sour memories that make us
want life more
garnished with salt and soy
and shrimp
that makes us ask for more
raw life, slices of salivations
no incantations
pouting lips, grinning teeth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To an Unborn Pauper Child
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently,
And though thy birth-hour beckons thee,
Sleep the long sleep:
The Doomsters heap
Travails and teens around us here,
And Time-Wraiths turn our songsingings to fear.
Hark, how the peoples surge and sigh,
And laughters fail, and greetings die;
Hopes dwindle; yea,
Faiths waste away,
Affections and enthusiasms numb:
Thou canst not mend these things if thou dost come.
Had I the ear of wombed souls
Ere their terrestrial chart unrolls,
And thou wert free
To cease, or be,
Then would I tell thee all I know,
And put it to thee: Wilt thou take Life so?
Vain vow! No hint of mine may hence
To theeward fly: to thy locked sense
Explain none can
Life's pending plan:
Thou wilt thy ignorant entry make
Though skies spout fire and blood and nations quake.
Fain would I, dear, find some shut plot
Of earth's wide wold for thee, where not
One tear, one qualm,
Should break the calm.
But I am weak as thou and bare;
No man can change the common lot to rare.
Must come and bide. And such are we --
Unreasoning, sanguine, visionary --
That I can hope
Health, love, friends, scope
In full for thee; can dream thou'lt find
Joys seldom yet attained by humankind!
poem by Thomas Hardy
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A Mournful One Am I
A mournful one am I, above whose head
A day of perfect bliss hath never past;
Whatever joys my soul have ravished,
Soon was the radiance of those joys o'ercast.
And none can show me that substantial pleasure
Which will not pass away like bloom from flowers;
Therefore, no more my heart such joys shall treasure,
Nor pine for fading sweets and fleeting hours.
poem by Walther von der Vogelweide
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Psalm 126
Surprising deliverance.
When God restored our captive state,
Joy was our song, and grace our theme;
The grace beyond our hopes so great
That joy appeared a painted dream.
The scoffer owns thy hand, and pays
Unwilling honors to thy name;
While we with pleasure shout thy praise,
With cheerful notes thy love proclaim.
When we review our dismal fears,
'Twas hard to think they'd vanish so;
With God we left our flowing tears,
He makes our joys like rivers flow.
The man that in his furrowed field
His scattered seed with sadness leaves,
Will shout to see the harvest yield
A welcome load of joyful sheaves.
poem by Isaac Watts
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You Are The Sky
You are the sky
I always look upon.
You are the sky
I always speak to
about everything in myheart
my wishes
my hopes
my joys
my sorrows.
You are the sky...
'though speechless
you give me comfort
in times of too much stress
in my daily life.
You are the sky...
someday I will join you
when the gate of eternity
opens for me.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Guiltless Heart
The man of life upright, whose guiltless heart is free
From all dishonest deeds and thoughts of vanity:
The man whose silent days in harmless joys are spent,
Whom hopes cannot delude, nor fortune discontent;
That man needs neither towers nor armor for defense,
Nor secret vaults to fly from thunder's violence:
He only can behold with unaffrighted eyes
The horrors of the deep and terrors of the skies;
Thus scorning all the care that fate or fortune brings,
He makes the heaven his book, his wisdom heavenly things;
Good thoughts his only friends, his wealth a well-spent age,
The earth his sober inn and quiet pilgrimage.
poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Recess
Resuscitate
In my sleep
Awake to see
Youre never here
But the losing yields
Another year
Facing hopes and fears
And I wish
I could believe there was more
Hopes suffocating
Youve kissed my life
And the planes and trains
Are to blame
For tempting us
To refrain
And to cut the chord
Dis every word
Of the truths absurd
And I wish
I could believe there was more
Hopes suffocating
Youve kissed my life
Hopes suffocating
Hopes suffocating
Hopes suffocating
And youve kissed my life
song performed by by Muse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mended Heart
broken heart
empty place
soothe the hurt
fill the space
man and boy
feel the loss
kill the joy
bear the cross
lonely heart
find the peace
joys start
sorrows cease
poem by Barbara Pickens
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