If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble.
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Suppress The Pain
Suppress the pain and I'll become somebody you don't understand
Suppress the pain and the person you once knew becomes cold hearted
Suppress the pain and the person you once knew no longer exists
Suppress the pain and I become stronger not weaker
Supress the pain and I won't care about you Suppress the pain and I'll say to you what you once said to me
poem by Erica Santana
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You can't suppress creativity, you can't suppress innovation.
quote by James Daly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life's Harmonies
Let no man pray that he know not sorrow,
Let no soul ask to be free from pain,
For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow,
And the moment's loss is the lifetime's gain.
Through want of a thing does its worth redouble,
Through hunger's pangs does the feast content,
And only the heart that has harbored trouble,
Can fully rejoice when joy is sent.
Let no man shrink from the bitter tonics
Of grief, and yearning, and need, and strife,
For the rarest chords in the soul's harmonies,
Are found in the minor strains of life.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Hope in Heaven's Day
Grief be mine, I ask you so,
If not for you, I wouldn't know,
How life once was and then be still,
How so precious, that death do steal.
Because that grief, won't go away,
Learn to let it have its way.
The link to love, a precious one,
Is met with grief and still not done.
The days do come, and nights do go,
Grief will stay as time is so.
And so a loved one passes on,
And grief comes in and carries on.
Does grief get better, I will ask,
It's hard to say, while at its task.
There is grief to help us cope,
There is God to give us hope.
Grief will surely go away,
On that glorious heaven's day.
But while its here, there's just one thing,
Pray our Lord, for peace he'll bring.
poem by Arlene Dery
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Let's stand up. Let's speak with pride about our morals and our values and redouble our effort to elect more conservative Republicans.
quote by Rick Perry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What old sadness can I let go of by sharing it today
How can we measure the grief we feel and and how we could put up with it. Doesn't the grief of death weight a ton or more. Doesn't it strenth out to a month a year or still longer. Is the grief of failture lighter then then the grief of empyness. Wheather we try to ingore or make light of it our grief like a ton of feathers or a ton of rocks is all the same to us. This much is sure if we lock our grief it will weight more on us. Andlengthen out if we open our hearts with weeping and words others will help carry it away. written and Posted 1/1/10
poem by Susie Sunshine
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The Best Of Your Imperfections
You have let the 'hue' of things,
Bedazzle your quest...
To suppress with resentment,
Those who possess color.
And you consciously continue,
To refuse to admit...
Your wish to be like the others,
Who are born with this naturalness.
Only you come into view,
To introduce conflict.
Only you can not permit,
To leave alone what exists.
You have let the 'hue' of things,
Bedazzle your quest...
To suppress with resentment,
Those who possess color.
And it's only you who insists,
That the absence of hue...
Entitles you to do as you wish,
Until destruction has dissected...
All that does not reflect,
The best of your imperfections.
So noticeable are your blemishes,
And weaknesses you refuse to accept.
So noticeable too,
Your choice to choose to allow as you do...
A defying what God has created.
To have praise bestowed just upon yourself.
You have let the 'hue' of things,
Bedazzle your quest...
To suppress with resentment,
Those who possess color.
And your wickedness done,
Will come to undo...
Your attempts to not be 'hue-man-like',
With beliefs God has your back.
And blesses your pursuits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unknown Grief
Unknown Grief
Mark Kelly Wassenaar (AKA Wazzy)
You never expect to know the word grief
Until it comes to you
It comes in, like a thief
Then you take a critical review
Who really knows what grief is
It could be you, or me, or your teddy bear
If only we could see his
Come with me, I’ll give you a dare
All I ask is that you’ll see
What grief does to you and me
Maybe at the end we’ll all agree
That it need not be all for thee
Have you seen death of one or more
Have they been of love or worse
Does it cause a whole body war
Does it put you in a hearse
If all these apply to you
Maybe you know what grief may be
All this time you withdrew
It makes you feel like abductees
If you like, you may join my cause
Get together with your bands
To end all grief within our paws
To clear our enemy from our hands
poem by Mark Wazzy
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Catharina : The Second Part. On Her Marriage To George Courtenay, Esq.
Believe it or not, as you choose,
The doctrine is certainly true,
That the future is known to the Muse,
And poets are oracles too.
I did but express a desire,
To see Catharina at home,
At the side of my friend George's fire,
And lo -- she is actually come.
Such prophecy some may despise,
But the wish of a poet and friend
Perhaps is approved in the skies,
And therefore attains to its end.
'Twas a wish that flew ardently forth
From a bosom effectually warmed
With the talents, the graces, and worth
Of the person for whom it was formed.
Maria would leave us, I knew,
To the grief and regret of us all,
But less to our grief, could we view
Catharina the queen of the hall.
And therefore I wished as I did,
And therefore this union of hands;
Not a whisper was heard to forbid,
But all cry, Amen! to the bans.
Since therefore I seem to incur
No danger of wishing in vain,
When making good wishes for her,
I will e'en to my wishes again;
With one I have made her a wife,
And now I will try with another,
Which I cannot suppress for my life,
How soon I can make her a mother.
poem by William Cowper
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Grief Is Never Having To Say I Grieve
Your grief has been too heavy
I don’t know how much grief buries you down
Please let me weep with you
Please let me weep with you
Like the others, I adore you for keeping up with life
I could imagine how you cry in your thoughts
How like blade, grief cuts your heart, your throat,
the top of your skull - slowly
Like wars in history, there are no exits
and there are no choices
If you were there, you had to face those rattling guns
Plead, please plead
Remember “Our Lady of Sorrows'
Mary carried part of the grief Jesus has
been carrying to save us, during the crucifixion
Mary had no one with her
She was helpless, yet in those moments
God’s strength kept her unmovable and brave
How long does grief stay?
People are not things
How long does grief stay?
If you lost something, you can always build it again
How long does grief stay?
If you lost someone, and someone, and someone
again, in any way – they are part of you
For as long as you live, grief changes into
remembering happy days with each other
Grief becomes faithfulness
Grief changes unto faith
Those drops of blood, while Jesus prayed in the garden
Is grief
Grief is never having to say “I grieve, ”
but “I love, ”
This is how long grief stays.
poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...
not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
and behold,
life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Threats To Keep A People In Grief
How can we seek solutions...
When our denials love to bask,
In a pleasing done by deceit.
How can we non-fictionalize our lives,
When fiction is all we seek.
How can we ever expect to accept the truth,
When none of it is believed.
And how is a greatness once perceived,
So willing to feed decadence...
And allow conflict and division succeed.
All of these may be questions!
But the opportunity to answer them,
Become threats to keep a people in grief.
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Suppression
Man in authority does man suppress,
And treats his subordinate like a slave!
Despite no mistake, at him he will rave,
Threatens his job if he doesn’t him impress.
Man sans talents suppresses man with much!
Former prevents progress of latter;
But not for long, Time is the great healer;
The suppressed outshines the empowered wretch!
Seek greatness not by suppressing others!
Greatness is inborn and God-giv’n to all;
Suppression, progression only defers;
Each one in his time gets his credit-call.
If suppress others, you nev’r can perform;
The suppressed with time gets back his form!
poem by John Celes
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Words for Sergeant Dakota Meyer, USMC – CMH
Someday when your construction job has helped you heal
I hope through google and the further mystery of the internet
These words will find you
The President did not speak falsely
In your dark valley you are far from alone
Your comrades - living and dead – are not alone
Indeed a nation grieves with you
Your truth is proofed
Your honor is secure
You are not alone
You are not alone
The medal is our grief
It is not your grief
Keep your grief – keep your grief
It will heal you
It will heal you
Keep your grief
The Medal is a souvenir from a place
Where there are no shops
poem by Bill Grace
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Thecom
you choose your fate is grief is what I feel when someone passes away grief is what I feel when i' am concerned grief what I when i have done wrong grief is what I feel when some accident happens
poem by Brandon Edwards
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Stand Alone Complex
I stand alone,
I fall apart.
In my deepest sorrow i grief.
I grief for a touch, for a smile...
I grief for love;
I grief for live...
I grief and i beg,
For the heat of an angel to save me...
For the simplest touch of a lover...
For the complex soul of a writer...
And i fall apart
I stand alone...
I stand alone complex.
28th January 1010
poem by DarkShaya Naiyamoto
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Grief is the soul of life- SONNET
Grief in the world is soul of life,
When it comes, comes like a kite.
Flying over on ones, hanging like a knife,
Everyone have to suffer from it to fight.
Life is a journey for facing griefs,
One's only thinks over happiness, but it is his dreams.
Grief is tsunami of life, robs joy from us like thief,
Grief is after all life's cream.
The whole universe is built,
Through love they say.
No one care about silt,
About grief, sorrow and dismay.
Grief is the indivisible part of our life,
It can not be seperated by axe, needle or knife.
poem by Shubham Tomar
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What we're going to do is redouble our efforts on financial regulatory reform, because that has in it sensible things like say on pay, so at least the shareholders are minding the store, sensible things like saying, for heaven's sakes, compensation should be focused on - on long term, so that you don't have rewards for short-term risk-taking.
quote by Christina Romer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Do Not Run Away From Gried.....
i do not run away from grief
grief itself is the cure of grief,
did you not know that from the thorns grows
this rose?
from boulders, that nugget of gold?
that from dead trees
the rare orchid blooms?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For those in mind
Death
is too late for grief.
If we had celebrated their living
knowing that grief would surely come
then grief would have a place;
death
is too late for grief.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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