The sorrow which has no vent in tears may make other organs weep.
quote by Henry Maudsley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Carbon
As organs are built up on carbon
Organs are nothing but carban.
Humours are built up on sorrow.
Humour is nothing but sorrow.
Sorrow is wood, that humour burns.
After a glow, the wood turns ash.
26.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep No More
Mary, don't you weep no more
Mary, don't you weep no more
'Cuz, I got your letter today
Pack my bags and I'm on my way
So, don't you weep no more
Don't you weep no more
Dry your eyes
Don't you shed no tears
The sun is risin'
So, put away your fears
Cuz, I know I once done you wrong
I want to say I'm sorry
And I'm comin' back home
So, don't you weep no more
Don' t you weep no more
I hear your voice in the wind
And I feel your tears in the rain
Shadows of night are falling
Can't you hear me call your name
I'm comin' home
I'm comin' home
So, don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep no more
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Autumn can make me laugh or cry...
I saw the golden aspens glow,
In the bright sun of the day;
I was transported to a place,
Three thousand miles away.
The color of the autumn trees,
Shone in autumn's light;
And the reflection of it all,
Gave me reds and yellows bright.
The splendor of the leaves,
As they are dying,
Can make you weep,
and start you crying.
Tears for all the things that are,
Tears for all the things to be;
Tears for all the things now past,
and tears for pleasant memories.
Fall can make me laugh or cry,
Fall can bring me joy or sorrow;
The changing of the seasons,
Make me anticipate tommorow.
Autumn goes away too soon,
God, please, make it linger;
Tuck away your summer's ring,
and put autumn on your finger.
poem by David Lessard
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To Primroses Filled With Morning Dew
Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears
Speak grief in you,
Who were but born
just as the modest morn
Teem'd her refreshing dew?
Alas, you have not known that shower
That mars a flower,
Nor felt th' unkind
Breath of a blasting wind,
Nor are ye worn with years;
Or warp'd as we,
Who think it strange to see,
Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young,
To speak by tears, before ye have a tongue.
Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known
The reason why
Ye droop and weep;
Is it for want of sleep,
Or childish lullaby?
Or that ye have not seen as yet
The violet?
Or brought a kiss
From that Sweet-heart, to this?
--No, no, this sorrow shown
By your tears shed,
Would have this lecture read,
That things of greatest, so of meanest worth,
Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth.
poem by Robert Herrick
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My Emily
It is a night of sorrow, a song of dark desire,
wolves vent their loneliness. The thirsting one
rises.
Curling, icy wisps of death shrouds her pale form,
an eternal wanting she is forever damned to pursue.
Her raven hair cascades over
translucent ivory shoulders, and her
full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the
red tears streaming from the
pale flesh beneath her.
Now a night of new awareness,
I weep.
poem by Arthur Edwardson
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Drama
In a cause of losses, you only abide
my name calling, in a world of weep
this drama will rise, my tears of pride
and my desperation I will only see.
This chorus of people around me
never laugh or play, only lament
it is an expansion of an old tragedy
to make my sorrow apply and extend.
I strive to become my life's bard
or an adequate companion of roses
that blossom red, sweetly to guard
my even sorrow and your causes.
Maybe it was my tears to invite you
my desperate chances to there linger
or a case of worlds bitter but true
a chorus of tragedy point their fingers.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Drought
My tears my tears which water my mind
My tears my tears which make me strong
Tears of joy, tears of every kind
Tears of my sorrow, in my sorrowful song
Weeping tears never more
It is gone, it is gone my hearts manifestation
My tears, my tears my eyes adore
The tears of my soul, my only consolation
But never more, will my eyes leak
I can cry no more, for death did steal
The tears of me, forever dry and weak
My tears, my joy, my life's zeal…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Crying but Not
Tears of sorrow, joy, or pain,
Drops of water fall from your eyes like rain.
If you have tears of sorrow,
Look ahead for tomorrow.
Are they tears of joy?
With your emotions people will toy.
If they are tears of pain,
Gaze ahead for what you can gain.
Tears are for things,
Feelings both good and bad.
People are always crying,
That makes me sad.
What joy do people take,
In making us cry,
It might do more than that,
It might make us want to die.
They take joy in our sorrow and pain!
And my question is, what do they gain?
poem by Clare McCarthy
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Sephestia's Lullaby
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 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 leapt;
More he crow'd, 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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A Stranger Observed It All - Inheritence Day
Don't know where he came from or even how he got here
But immediately one thing was perfectly clear
His eyes were special and took it all in with a quick sweep
And though stoic he was, it was also apparent he did also weep
There were tears of joy and tears of sorrow mixed to make his wine
For what he observed was the entire human vine
That was his purpose from high on the hills
He could see clearly that mankind was mostly all frills
No purity of thought did any now seek
Just more ways they could get sicker by ignoring the meek.
poem by Mountain Pass
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Not Child
weep not child
wipe those tears from your eyes
weep not child
weep not for you are not alone
weep not child
wipe those very tears
surely, over the years
but somewhat he above us cares
your struggle he bears
to wipe them off and clears
the shackles
and tackles
of all scuffles
and troubles
weep not child
for you are not alone.
®ntema, o.p.
[email protected]
©05.09.2011
1325h rs
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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To Caroline
Think'st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes,
Suffus'd in tears, implore to stay;
And heard unmov'd thy plenteous sighs,
Which said far more than words can say?
Though keen the grief thy tears exprest,
When love and hope lay both o'erthrown;
Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breast
Throbb'd, with deep sorrow, as thine own.
But, when our cheeks with anguish glow'd,
When thy sweet lips were join'd to mine;
The tears that from my eyelids flow'd
Were lost in those which fell from thine.
Thou could'st not feel my burning cheek,
Thy gushing tears had quench'd its flame,
And, as thy tongue essay'd to speak,
In sighs alone it breath'd my name.
And yet, my girl, we weep in vain,
In vain our fate in sighs deplore;
Remembrance only can remain,
But that, will make us weep the more.
Again, thou best belov'd, adieu!
Ah! if thou canst, o'ercome regret,
Nor let thy mind past joys review,
Our only hope is, to forget!
Sorrow Under Mist
Mist -
Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -
Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.
In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.
We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.
But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.
Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sorrow Rain
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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My Addiction
My addiction
It is a story of my addiction
Loved her a lot
Cared a lot
However, everything I do for her, never seems perfect
I am truly alone and not even my addiction is with me anymore
She is so far away, that her presence I cannot even feel
I am addicted to her
However, she is not addicted to me
Since, she can live without me
Love, seems good in stories
Although, in reality love pains and does make one bleed
Tears of joy always fade away
Sorrow creeps in life
To be honest I feel so empty without you
Although, reaching out to you is impossible
Earlier, I tried my best
To impress you, I did everything
However, you are my addiction, which is out of my reach
All that I can do is weep and weep
Even then, you will never be mine.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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Years of Tears
Years of tears for no ears to hear, lonely for years am I
Years of tears for no ears to hear in silence they dropp and die
Years of tears, hidden deep, I cannot weep, nor cry.
Years of tears, for many fears of dying alone, I sigh.
Years of tears which no one hears as many years go by.
Years of tears in the lonely sky, my tears grow wings and fly.
Years of tears, my smile shines, through its little lines, I lie.
Years of tears, my somber peers through my melancholy eye
Tears of tears, Years of Years, in my soul, I tie.
Years of tears for no ears to hear my tears weep goodbye….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I Am A Tree
People are trying to
Make me free.
Endless cutting
Of my fellow
Proved to be fatal
For your sorrow.
I provide you
Many a thing.
Just make yourselvess
A human being.
Cut me and I will
Weep without tears.
Use me in the mill
Without any fear.
One day will come
You all will lose;
The place called home.
Evolution starts weeping,
On this seeing.
Urging you to stop,
Otherwise lose hope.
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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Life You Gave
Thank you for the life you gave up
just to see me through
and do not weep for me now that I am gone.
Go and lead the life you should have led
while you watched over me in my dying bed.
I have only left you temporary
and we will be reunited again
when your last page is read.
Now go and shed no more tears of sorrow,
but smile for the life you gave to me while I was there
for I still watch over you from within the clouds above.
Our love will never cease to be
it will last eternally.
Now go and live your life
just as it should be
not with tears of sorrow staining your cheeks,
but smile for the life you gave
to me while I was there.
14 September 2009
poem by David Harris
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Laugh With The World But Weep Alone!
LAUGH WITH THE WORLD
BUT WEEP ALONE!
I have come to bear my own cross,
And to weep alone and dry my tears!
For this sad old world have troubles
galore,
With no time to spare for me or despair!
When I laugh the world laughs with me,
And is ever ready to share my happy times;
But in my hour of grief they shrug and say, -
' A friend in grief is no friend of mine! '
Yet our tears get attached to our joys
and mirth,
Happy moments always bring tears to
our eyes!
For my tears celebrate those short-lived
hours,
Since only happines can never be mine!
So tears flow in silence without a sound,
Knowing that it can't be the other way round!
For when I weep I must weep alone,
With none to share my grief and despair!
This one way traffic is an erroneous rule,
Which mistakenly many believe and share!
With my tears I try to cleanse my soul,
A soul which truly belongs to me!
And those crystal drops reflects the
rainbow,
A grand view my soul gets to see!
But when I share my tears with other's,
I lessen their grief and give them hope;
In caring and sharing we are twice blessed,
Strengthening the bond between human folks!
But should we only share the good times,
While refraining from sharing other's sorrow
and pain,
Our happiness gets all confined,
And our living becomes all in vain!
With a soul which is never blessed,
An uncleansed soul which is left unclean,
That rainbow remains out of sight!
And salvation a distant dream!
-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
02 May 08