To be bowed by grief is folly; Naught is gained by melancholy; Better than the pain of thinking, Is to steep the sense in drinking.
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Melancholy Mood
A little collie weed to ease I grief
too much agony living in the limits of big city
a little collie weed to meditate
too much insanity in this society
melancholy mood I eat for my food melancholy mood
rise this morning smile with the sun
oh I'm blessed another day has begun
everything in life has its purpose
find its reason it has its season
melancholy mood I eat for my food melancholy mood
tears leave my eyes I just want to fly
deep down I feel pain
but I know I must rise again
from this melancholy mood melancholy mood
melancholy mood I eat for my food melancholy mood
song performed by by Ziggy Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Melancholy
Grief spreads
A dark cloak
Over my heart and mind
Like a fog that hampers view.
I know not what
Grief grips my heart! ! !
Is it the fear
Of losing my loved ones?
Or just, Melancholy
Claiming a few hours
For her folly!
poem by Mathews Ninan
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Melancholy
HENCE, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There 's naught in this life sweet,
If men were wise to see't,
But only melancholy--
O sweetest melancholy!
Welcome, folded arms and fixed eyes,
A sight that piercing mortifies,
A look that 's fasten'd to the ground,
A tongue chain'd up without a sound!
Fountain-heads and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves!
Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
Are warmly housed, save bats and owls!
A midnight bell, a parting groan--
These are the sounds we feed upon:
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
Nothing 's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
poem by John Fletcher
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A rhine-land drinking song
If our own life is the life of a flower
(And that's what some sages are thinking),
We should moisten the bud with a health-giving flood
And 'twill bloom all the sweeter--
Yes, life's the completer
For drinking,
and drinking,
and drinking.
If it be that our life is a journey
(As many wise folk are opining),
We should sprinkle the way with the rain while we may;
Though dusty and dreary,
'Tis made cool and cheery
With wining,
and wining,
and wining.
If this life that we live be a dreaming
(As pessimist people are thinking),
To induce pleasant dreams there is nothing, meseems,
Like this sweet prescription,
That baffles description--
This drinking,
and drinking,
and drinking.
poem by Eugene Field
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You Bowed Down
I expect youre entitled to know why Im making contact
With acquaintances scattered all over the land
Id promise you now and again that Id honour the contract
If it hadnt crumbled away in my hand
So we broke that vow independently now
But I dont know why you absolutely deny
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
When you first looked away I might say it was really a kindness
It must have hurt you to see how dreams sour
Now they say that justice and love are the next things to blindness
Well youre getting plenty of both of them now
And so you parade where appointments are made
And never meant to be kept
Unless you accept
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You value the burnt amber of falling leaves
And you long to delay
As you feel their breath as they whisper
It wont hurt you now to betray
If you just bow down
And now every time that we meet on the edge of hysteria
Youre helping them sell off some new party line
I remember a time when you would have seemed so superior
Now you say will you please meet this good friend of mine?
So youre in demand as long as you kiss their hand
But all the applause is for their name not yours
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down (you bowed down, you bowed down)
You bowed down
You bowed down
You bowed down
You bowed down
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'Despised And Rejected Of Men
'Here is your king.' Pilate said speaking to the Jews
'I can set Him free now it's up to you to choose.'
'Away with Him we will not have rule over us'
was their shout before him as they made a great fuss.
He was a Man despised and rejected by men
scorned and hated by the people around Him then.
A Man of sorrows Who was acquainted with grief
And we hid our faces from Him in unbelief.
He was reviled by all and we esteemed Him not.
A worm handed over to them by a despot.
On His own He climbed up that steep Calvary hill
in His determination to fulfil God's will.
He's rejected by men and forsaken of God.
All alone the steep road through Golgotha He trod.
'My God why have You forsaken Me' was His cry
as upon the cross He bowed down His head to die.
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
What Is Love?
What is Love?
Is it a folly,
Is it mirth, or melancholy?
Joys above,
Are there many, or not any?
What is Love?
If you please,
A most sweet folly!
Full of mirth and melancholy:
Both of these!
In its sadness worth all gladness,
If you please!
Prithee where,
Goes Love a-hiding?
Is he long in his abiding
Anywhere?
Can you bind him when you find him;
Prithee, where?
With spring days
Love comes and dallies:
Upon the mountains, through the valleys
Lie Love's ways.
Then he leaves you and deceives you
In spring days.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Tribute to Oliver Goldsmith
Tribute to O.Goldsmith
When a lovely woman stoops to folly
and finds too late that men betray.
What can cure her melancholy?
what can wash her guilt away?
Oliver Goldsmith
When a lovely woman stoops to folly
then she alone must bear the shame.
She had her fling but now by golly
she finds that she has lost the game.
And finds too late that men betray.
It was her choice she took her
her lust with no delay
and joined him in the oldest dance.
What can cure her melancholy?
Except perhaps a new affair
another essay into folly.
Has she the courage will she dare.
What can wash her guilt away?
She can pretend to innocence
What no one knows no one can say.
Her silence is her best defence.
18-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sentimental Melancholy
Johnny mercer / richard whiting
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever I think about you
Its only a mood,
A brief interlude
Thats better described as just feeling blue
I suppose that its just my folly
To keep it alive as I do
But its a kind of sugar coated misery
And foolish as it seems
I thought Id like to be
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever I think about you
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sentimental & Melancholy
Johnny mercer / richard whiting
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever i think about you
It's only a mood,
A brief interlude
That's better described as just feeling blue
I suppose that it's just my folly
To keep it alive as i do
But it's a kind of sugar coated misery
And foolish as it seems
I thought i'd like to be
Sentimental and melancholy
Whenever i think about you
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Not The Man I Used To Be (Jazzie B & Nellee Hooper Version)
When I'm in trouble or out of step
If my balance has been upset
Oh there's a feeling I can't accept
There's one thing that helps me to forget
Wonder what I'm thinking
Wonder why I'm drinking
But it's plain to see
I'm not the man I used to be
If life were easy and didn't ask,
didn't tease me or take things back
I'd just start to understand,
what makes me the man I am
Wonder what I'm thinking
Wonder why I'm drinking
But it's plain to see
I'm not the man I used to be
Oh it's plain and it's a shame
I'm not the man I used to be
I've lost dreams that won't come back
memories fading fast
I should save the ones I have
What's the use, most of them are bad
Wonder what I'm thinking
Wonder why I'm drinking
But it's plain to see
I'm not the man I used to be
Oh it's plain and it's a shame
I can't explain
But I'm not the man I used to be
Oh it's plain and it's a shame
I can't explain
But I'm not the man I used to be
song performed by by Fine Young Cannibals
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Not The Man I Used To Be
When Im in trouble or out of step
If my balance has been upset
Oh, theres a feeling I cant accept
Theres one thing that helps me to forget
Wonder what Im thinking
Wonder why Im drinking
But its plain to see,
Im not the man I used to be
If life were easy and didnt ask,
Didnt tease me or take things back
I could start to understand,
What makes me the man I am
Wonder what Im thinking
Wonder why Im drinking
But its plain to see,
Im not the man I used to be
Oh, its plain and its a shame
Im not the man I used to be
Ive lost dreams that wont come back,
Memories fading fast
I should save the ones I have
Whats the use?
Most of them are bad
Wonder what Im thinking
Wonder why Im drinking
But its plain to see,
Im not the man I used to be
Oh, its plain and its a shame
I cant explain
But Im not the man I used to be
Its a shame, dont know my name
I cant explain
Im not the man I used to be
Do you know my name?
Do you, do you need me?
But Im not the man...
song performed by by Fine Young Cannibals
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cant Help Thinking About Me
Question-time that says I brought dishonour
My heads bowed in shame
It seems that Ive blackened the family name
Mother says that she cant stand the neighbours talking
Ive gotta pack my bags, leave this home, start walking, yeah
Im guilty
I wish that I was sorry this time
I wish that I could pay for my crime
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
Remember when we used to go to church on sundays
I lay awake at night, terrified of school on mondays
Oh, but its too late now
I wish I was a child again
I wish I felt secure again
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
As I pass a recreation ground
I remember my friends, always been found and I cant
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
Now I leave them all in the never never land
The station seems so cold the tickets in my hand
My girl calls my name hi dave
Drop in, see around, come back
If youre this way again
Oh, Im on my own
Ive got a long way to go
I hope I make it on my own
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing
Pain
All consuming
Like a fire
I can't breathe
There's nothing left
What have you done?
My hands are shaking
I can't sit still
My mind is racing
My heart is breaking
Strangled gasps
Heart races
It's all a blur
Where am I?
What happened?
Who are you?
You stole my breath
My mind
My heart
My body
Are you a thief?
Are you a liar?
Who is it that can do something so small,
Yet so large
That I have nothing left
Only pain
Only rage
Only hurt
Only tears
Only blood
Only fears
Only death
Have you stolen everything?
Or is my life still left?
I hear naught
I see naught
I feel naught
I smell naught
I taste naught
Am I nothing?
Are you nothing?
There's nothing left
I sense nothing
I know nothing
This must mean I am nothing
It must mean you are nothing
Am I nobody?
Like a myth
Like a legend
Like a story
Does this make everything I've said
And done
And felt
Unreal
Like a dream
Or a story
Or a thought
So it never happened?
You didn't make me love you?
You didn't hurt me?
You didn't make me cry?
Make me bleed?
Make me suffer?
You didn't leave me there
On the street
On a sidewalk
So I could bleed out?
You didn't hold a knife?
You didn't violate me?
You didn't kill me?
You didn't walk away?
You didn't lie?
I didn't exist meaning
You didn't exist so
You must not have
Meaning
I am not dead because
I just never existed
And you are not alive
Because you never existed
We are just nothing
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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All For Naught, I Do Not Believe
Naught did I possess any seer, for my abject fear,
Naught are there any here-to see, as I tear!
My best friend has been corrupted,
My entire life, completely, tragically interrupted!
For what reason might be this the case?
Pain has been caused, ne'er to be erased
Drunketh was I, from the cup of my life-
Joined at my festival, by the one who was to be my Wife!
Severed from my family, as though something wrong, I had done!
Falsity was causal to this pain, known to all, but for the one!
Wheresoever she may wander, back to reason,
So too may she allow for the changing of her pain's season!
All for naught, I do not believe-part of His plan-
Each day which passes, I grow more, to understand!
Maurice Harris,23 December 2007
poem by Maurice Harris
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La Fraisne
For I was a gaunt, grave councillor
Being in all things wise, and very old,
But I have put aside this folly and the cold
That old age weareth for a cloak.
I was quite strong-at least they said so-
The young men at the sword-play;
But I have put aside this folly, being gay
In another fashion that more suiteth me.
I have curled 'mid the boles of the ash wood,
I have hidden my face where the oak
Spread his leaves over me, and the yoke
Of the old ways of men have I cast aside.
By the still pool of Mar-nan-otha
Have I found me a bride
That was a dog-wood tree some syne.
She hath called me from mine old ways
She hath hushed my rancour of council,
Bidding me praise
Naught but the wind that flutters in the leaves.
She hath drawn me from mine old ways,
Till men say that I am mad;
But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad,
For I know that the wailing and bitterness are a folly.
And I? I have put aside all folly and all grief.
I wrapped my tears in an ellum leaf
And left them under a stone
And now men call me mad because I have thrown
All folly from me, putting it aside
To leave the old barren ways of men,
Because my bride
Is a pool of the wood, and
Though all men say that I am mad
It is only that I am glad,
Very glad, for my bride hath toward me a great love
That is sweeter than the love of women
That plague and burn and drive one away.
Aie-e! 'Tis true that I am gay
Quite gay, for I have her alone here
And no man troubleth us.
Once when I was among the young men . . .
And they said I was quite strong, among the young men.
Once there was a woman . . .
. . . but I forget . . . she was . .
... I hope she will not come again.
... I do not remember…..
I think she hurt me once, but . . .
That was very long ago.
I do not like to remember things any more.
I like one little band of winds that blow
In the ash trees here:
For we are quite alone
Here 'mid the ash trees.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Der mann im keller
How cool and fair this cellar where
My throne a dusky cask is;
To do no thing but just to sing
And drown the time my task is.
The cooper he's
Resolved to please,
And, answering to my winking,
He fills me up
Cup after cup
For drinking, drinking, drinking.
Begrudge me not
This cosy spot
In which I am reclining--
Why, who would burst
With envious thirst,
When he can live by wining.
A roseate hue seems to imbue
The world on which I'm blinking;
My fellow-men--I love them when
I'm drinking, drinking, drinking.
And yet I think, the more I drink,
It's more and more I pine for--
Oh, such as I (forever dry)
God made this land of Rhine for;
And there is bliss
In knowing this,
As to the floor I'm sinking:
I've wronged no man
And never can
While drinking, drinking, drinking.
poem by Eugene Field
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Hence, All You Vain Delights from the Nice Valour
Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly:
There's nought in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see't,
But only melancholy,
O sweetest melancholy!
Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes,
A sigh that piercing mortifies,
A look that's fastened to the ground,
A tongue chained up without a sound;
Fountain-heads, and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves;
Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
Are warmly housed, save bats and owls;
A midnight bell, a parting groan:
These are the sounds we feed upon;
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
poem by John Fletcher
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Innocence lost and pain gained.
I lost my innocence.
Not once not twice but more times than I can count.
It was becuase of bastards.
Bastards who wanted to hurt.
I lost my innocence and gained pain.
On the day you raped me.
I lost everything.
Lost my innocence.
Lost my life.
Lost my happiness.
Lost my way of being.
You raped me.
You didnt lose anything.
You gained the power.
I lost every thing that day.
All I was to gain was pain.
I lost more than one thing.
I lost my innocence.
But gained the pain
poem by Amy Kerswell
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Melancholy Child
A baby with a baby just barely seventeen
My mother mourned her innocence
While she bounced on her knee
A daddy on the road added to her tears and trials
Like silver rain they fell upon this melancholy child
The sounds of my childhood still linger in my song
My mother's lullaby that train that ran behind our home
A whippoorwill on a window sill - it should have made me smile
But everything sounds lonesome to a melancholy child
Now a restless blood runs in our family
I thought I could outrun the emptiness inside of me
So I went a little crazy, went a little wild
Trying to outdistance my own melancholy child
I met a kind and gentle man who thinks the world of me
And when he looks my way it is a woman that he sees
But when I can't explain to him the tears that fill my eyes
He takes me in his arms and rocks his melancholy child
You take a black Irish temper and some solemn Cherokee
A Southern sense of humor and you got someone like me
There are thorns on every rose to this I'm reconciled
They're just a little sharper to a melancholy child
And in my own babe's eyes I see the signs of a melancholy child
Heaven help us all, another melancholy child
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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