Rosiness is not a worse windowpane than gloomy gray when viewing the world.
quote by Grace Paley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Man Rain
Old Man Rain at the windowpane
Knocks and fumbles and knocks again:
His long-nailed fingers slip and strain:
Old Man Rain at the windowpane
Knocks all night but knocks in vain.
Old Man Rain.
Old Man Rain at the windowpane
Reels and shambles along the lane:
His old gray whiskers drip and drain:
Old Man Rain with fuddled brain
Reels and staggers like one insane.
Old Man Rain.
Old Man Rain is back again,
With old Mis' Wind at the windowpane,
Dancing there with her tattered train:
Her old shawl flaps as she whirls again
In the wildman dance and is torn in twain.
Old Mis' Wind and Old Man Rain.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If a man be gloomy let him keep to himself. No one has the right to go croaking about society, or what is worse, looking as if he stifled grief.
quote by Benjamin Disraeli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diverse Is Life Here, Is Only to Die worse?
Diverse this world looks,
Look at the green forests,
Look at the animals,
Diverse is living, world,
Only comes into life,
to Die worse!
Are men too, their diverse races,
Diverse thoughts,
Diverse nationality,
Diverse mentality,
Are this only to Die worse?
Some are selfish and ignorants,
Some are fantastic and fanatics,
Some are psychiatrists and some are their patients,
Some are physicians,
Some are with diseases,
Diverse is this world,
Only here all have to Die worse!
Some are good husbands
Some are good housewives,
Some quarrel and make worse,
And divorce,
Only to Die worse some day!
Some are sages,
Some work for wages,
Some dance and sing well on stages,
Some are teachers, some are pupils,
Diverse is this world,
All have to Die worse!
This earth is green and blue planet,
Not has any celestial danger yet,
Still men born here were half scientists,
The worked for some,
Yet nature reacted to all,
Diverse is science, only made,
Life better temporary
But truth is one has to live and die worse here,
Some are sages and buddhas,
Some are Lao Tzu and Taoist,
Some are communists, Marxist or Maoists,
Some or artists or some Are critics
Some are atheists,
Some are monoethists
Or polyethists,
Diverse is nature of men,
All have do die worse!
Some are missionaries,
Some are visionaries
Some are revolutionaries,
Some are ordinaries
Some are extra ordinaries,
All has die worse!
Some are innocents
Some are militants
Some are mutants
Some are scholars,
Some are school goers,
Diverse is nature all die here,
Some will try and live,
Yet they have to die,
But not die worse!
All are not alike only some strive hard,
refuse to Die Worse,
Live well and die well,
Only to dwell in the eternal truth!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Sunshine Comes (a song)
Sunshine comes
Within its trance glow
Bright new blossoms
In spring fresh snow
Each day quite bright
And lovely in dream
From out of the night
Into realm’s gleam
Moon bright it’s now
And shadows dancing
Its dark diffuse brow
And colors all blanching
The feelings are deep
From tapings of love
Coldness of leap
Like gray clouds above
Your sunshine within
So lovely to spark
In search conduct spin
When outside is dark
And means to unknown
The flowing ahead
At winter's dark gown
And rosiness has bleed
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Our Own Mistakes
In the corner of a windowpane,
I watched a fly, caught in a web,
Struggling to escape, but all in vain,
As slowly his life, away did ebb.
Although he’s not a bug I like,
His fight for life was sad to see,
But we too, can feel the spider strike,
Wishing we also could get free.
We want to flee the chains that hold,
That entangle us by our own mistakes.
For we never listen to what we’re told,
And all our senses the mind forsakes.
In the corner of a windowpane,
I watched the fly and it was me.
Trapped by my own obdurate brain,
Caused by my own stupidity.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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0004 M i n d
and mind might ask,
why then are brain cells gray? Is it
because the world is just
so wonderful, that they, stunned
and amazed, cannot decide
which colour to praise first?
(Mix all the colours of the paints,
and the result is gray.)
or is it because they feel themselves
so dull in comparison
with the miracle which is creation,
the miracle they (miracles themselves) , faithful, serve?
(Mix all the colours of the spectrum,
and the result is white.)
or is it, because they know
their work lies between ultimates
such as (do they themselves
call them this?) black,
and white? do they know
their work is equity –
to balance all things, so that gray is not gray
as we use gray for worldly metaphor; but
the gray of lakes at peace;
of silver that lives in itself,
needing no sun but its own innerness;
mercury that is moved but longs
to be united in a perfect sphere;
gray of clouds that know
the blessings that they hold;
and, the shining gray of mind -
for which gray hair is living metaphor,
the wisdom which life holds in store for you -
as how many poets, this moment round the world,
are joining new electric paths of thought between
these tiny, great gray worm-like cells which hide, compact,
their vast and inner space which spins out eager words
of metaphor, for that so nameless,
boundless, dazzling spectrum,
the radiant space of self?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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One Last Resort
Days go by without sympathy, my wandering mind is no comfort
surrounded by a world of gray, I have no more resorts
Hidden within a sea of people, I am not seen
I ponder what this life is about, and what it really means
As bad as heartbreak sounds, the real thing's so much worse, It stabs at me at every minute, an endless, greedy curse
And yet I find relief in the strangest of ways, perhaps more pain is all I need, to make me feel okay Still i cannot comprehend how again, people learn to love... maybe those few are given special strength from above To trust again, I doubt I will, inside me settles enough anger to kill..
and again the days go by without sympathy,
as my wandering mind swims within gray, I have one last resort,
and nothing more to say.
poem by Rachel Kathleen Moses
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I've tried doing so, for it was never my intention to paint only with gray. But in the course of my work I have eliminated one color after another, and what has remained is gray, gray, gray!
quote by Alberto Giacometti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is this world that is hastening me toward I know not what, viewing me with contempt
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is this world that is hastening me toward I know not what, viewing me with contempt?
quote by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gloomy Sunday
Carter / s. lewis / r. seress
Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are numberless
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coaches
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thoughts
Of ever returning you
Wouldnt they be angry
If I thought of joining you?
Gloomy sunday
Gloomy is sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and i
Have decided to end it all
Soon therell be candles
And prayers that are said I know
But let them not weep
Let them know that Im glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death Im caressin you
With the last breath of my soul
Ill be blessin you
Gloomy sunday
Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep
In the deep of my heart here
Darling I hope
That my dream never haunted you
My heart is tellin you
How much I wanted you
Gloomy sunday
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Colors Of The Sky
Blue is the sky
in the afternoon
Black is the sky
when you see the moon
Gray is the sky
on a gloomy day
White is the sky
when snow comes my way
Orange is the sky
when the sun appears
Red is the sky
when volcanoes cause fear
Colorful is the sky
when there's a rainbow
There are many colors in the sky
But why the sky is blue, few will ever know
Gloomy Sunday
Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless,
Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless
Little white flowers will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought of ever returning you
Would they be angry if I thought of joining you
Gloomy sunday
Sunday is gloomy
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I have decided to end it all
Soon therell be flowers and prayers that are sad,
I know, let them not weep,
Let them know that Im glad to go
Death is no dream,
For in death Im caressing you
With the last breath of my soul Ill be blessing you
Gloomy sunday
Dreaming
I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you
Asleep in the deep of
My heart
Dear
Darling I hope that my dream never haunted you
My heart is telling you how much I wanted you
Gloomy sunday
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morally, the world is both better and worse than it was. We are worse off than in the middle ages, or the 17th and 18th centuries, in that we have the atomic menace.
quote by Pierre Schaeffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gloomy Sunday
Sunday is gloomy, my hours are slumberless
Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless
Little white flowers will never awaken you
Not when the black coach of sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought of ever returning you
Would they be angry if I thought of joining you?
Gloomy sunday
Gloomy is sunday, with shadows I spend it all
My heart and I have decided to end it all
Soon therell be flowers and prayers that are sad, I know
Let them not weep, let them know that Im glad to go
Death is no dream, for in death I am caressing you
With the last breath of my heart Ill be blessing you
Gloomy sunday
Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep in the deep of my heart, deep
Darling, I hope that my dream never haunted you
My heart is telling you how much I wanted you
Gloomy sunday
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ben Hur
Everything I know tells me she's everything that I could hope for.
Everything I know tells me I can't let her walk away.
I took my time to find the words.
I hoped she'd feel the same.
'Cause I want someone to share my smile.
To share the pain.
To be there when the sea turns gray.
To share the joy for better or worse,
And I thought that it might have been her.
Wonder if she knows the way I saw her soul light up my life.
Wonder if she knows of the pain I feel tonight.
I took my time to find the words,
I hoped she'd feel the same.
'Cause I want someone to share my smile,
To share the pain.
To be there when the sea turns gray.
To share the joy for better or worse.
And I thought that it might have been her.
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Obviously this is the world descending into worse and worse standards of targeting civilians both in state violence in Iraq, Gaza and so on and the terrorist retaliation.
quote by Clare Short
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untitled (two)
It was raining and early came the dark
The atmosphere was gloomy and the mood was gray
There were no children in the park
People at home were reciting the holy hymn
I was too at home sad and unhappy all the day
Now how I longed to pass my time along with him!
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him
quote by Friedrich Nietzsche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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