Here is my gift
Here is my gift, not roses on your grave,
not sticks of burning incense.
You lived aloof, maintaining to the end
your magnificent disdain.
You drank wine, and told the wittiest jokes,
and suffocated inside stifling walls.
Alone you let the terrible stranger in,
and stayed with her alone.
Now you're gone, and nobody says a word
about your troubled and exalted life.
Only my voice, like a flute, will mourn
at your dumb funeral feast.
Oh, who would have dared believe that half-crazed I,
I, sick with grief for the buried past,
I, smoldering on a slow fire,
having lost everything and forgotten all,
would be fated to commemorate a man
so full of strength and will and bright inventions,
who only yesterday it seems, chatted with me,
hiding the tremor of his mortal pain.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
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Related quotes
In Memory of M.B.
Here is my gift, not roses on your grave,
not sticks of burning incense.
You lived aloof, maintaining to the end
your magnificent disdain.
You drank wine, and told the wittiest jokes,
and suffocated inside stifling walls.
Alone you let the terrible stranger in,
and stayed with her alone.
Now you're gone, and nobody says a word
about your troubled and exalted life.
Only my voice, like a flute, will mourn
at your dumb funeral feast.
Oh, who would have dared believe that half-crazed I
, I, sick with grief for the buried past,
I, smoldering on a slow fire,
having lost everything and forgotten all,
would be fated to commemorate a man
so full of strength and will and bright inventions,
who only yesterday it seems, chatted with me,
hiding the tremor of his mortal pain.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All the Jokes
All the jokes have already been told
And so instead, we tell jokes about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
So instead we tell jokes about how
All the new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
Because they remind us about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these jokes get old very quickly
So we make up new jokes about how
The jokes about the new jokes about how
All the jokes that have already been told
Are starting to get quite old
But after a while, once these jokes
Have gotten quite old themselves
We sit and listen to the silence
And wonder about the past, and how
All the jokes have already been told
Then suddenly, out of nowhere
Somebody comes up with a joke
That had been forgotten long ago
But is so funny we can't even breathe
So we roll on the floor, gasping for air
poem by Derek Ouyang
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Gone To Forget To Leave
There are those who may choose to die.
For whatever reason...
Eyes are wanting to feel,
A realness and not a friction to absorb.
When platters of gold filled deceit,
Offer nothing else to be fed....
With a side order of sincerity seen,
Or felt to mention.
'Gone to forget to leave'
And the feasting of this is encouraged.
Until dishonesty is all that one dreads.
With a wish to numb the head,
From the stirrings that occur from truths.
And although the eating of deceit weakens,
On a daily basis when that addiction eats...
A cry goes unheard.
A sickening overwhelms...
And,
A wish to be released from it increases.
'Gone to forget to leave'
An encouraged emotionally abandoned mind...
Feeds until the peace of eternal rest has come,
Of what is wished.
And with a consciousness,
Desperately wanting transistion now a mission...
But never accepted to come from one so...
Talented and gifted!
But hurting from a place...
No one took the time to touch to get to know,
And so much pain was inside hiding.
And what was known to God,
Has joined the stars awaiting.
Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.
And what was known to God,
Has joined...
With the others worthy.
Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.
And what was known,
To God...
Has joined,
Eternity!
Goodbye to pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
No more pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone is pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
There's no pain inside there hiding,
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
That pain inside there hiding!
Gone to forget to leave.
That pain inside there hiding!
Gone to forget to leave.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Gone to forget to leave.
Gone to forget to leave.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wellington's Funeral
18th November 1852
“VICTORY!”
So once more the cry must be.
Duteous mourning we fulfil
In God's name; but by God's will,
Doubt not, the last word is still
“Victory!”
Funeral,
In the music round this pall,
Solemn grief yields earth to earth;
But what tones of solemn mirth
In the pageant of new birth
Rise and fall?
For indeed,
If our eyes were openèd,
Who shall say what escort floats
Here, which breath nor gleam denotes,—
Fiery horses, chariots
Fire-footed?
Trumpeter,
Even thy call he may not hear;
Long-known voice for ever past,
Till with one more trumpet-blast
God's assuring word at last
Reach his ear.
Multitude,
Hold your breath in reverent mood:
For while earth's whole kindred stand
Mute even thus on either hand,
This soul's labour shall be scann'd
And found good.
Cherubim,
Lift ye not even now your hymn?
Lo! once lent for human lack,
Michael's sword is rendered back.
Thrills not now the starry track,
Seraphim?
Gabriel,
Since the gift of thine “All hail!”
Out of Heaven no time hath brought
Gift with fuller blessing fraught
Than the peace which this man wrought
Passing well.
Be no word
Raised of bloodshed Christ-abhorr'd.
Say: “'Twas thus in His decrees
Who Himself, the Prince of Peace,
For His harvest's high increase
Sent a sword.”
Veterans,
He by whom the neck of France
Then was given unto your heel,
Timely sought, may lend as well
To your sons his terrible
Countenance.
Waterloo!
As the last grave must renew,
Ere fresh death, the banshee-strain,—
So methinks upon thy plain
Falls some presage in the rain,
In the dew.
And O thou,
Watching, with an exile's brow
Unappeased, o'er death's dumb flood:—
Lo! the saving strength of God
In some new heart's English blood
Slumbers now.
Emperor,
Is this all thy work was for?—
Thus to see thy self-sought aim,
Yea thy titles, yea thy name,
In another's shame, to shame
Bandied o'er?
Thy great work is but begun.
With quick seed his end is rife
Whose long tale of conquering strife
Shows no triumph like his life
Lost and won.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Changes
I'm not supposed to be scared of anything
But I don't know where I am
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted
And nobody understands
(How I feel)
I'm tryin' hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs
Theres no one here to talk to
And the pain inside is making me numb
I try to hold this, under control
They can't help me
'Cause no one knows
Now I'm going through changes, changes
God I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes
I'm feelin' weak and weary walkin' through this world alone
Everything I say, every word of it cuts me to the bone
(And I bleed)
I've got something to say but now I got nowhere to turn
It feels like Ive been buried underneath all the weight of the world
I try to hold this, under control
They can't help me
Cause no one knows
Now Im going through changes, changes
God I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated save me
Now Im going through changes, changes
I'm blind and shaking
Bound and breaking
I hope I make it through all these changes
Now Im going through changes, changes
God I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated save me
Now Im falling apart now I feel it
But Im going through changes, changes
God I feel so frustrated lately
And I get suffocated I hate this
But Im going through changes, changes
song performed by by 3 Doors Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tempered by Fire
Fire burning oh so pure
Calm, steady and so secure
Strength tested by the fire
Burning through one heart's desire
As if forming fine steel
All that one knows and feels
Stripped of emotions completely
A cleansing so bitter sweet
Tempered in bright fire
With one heart's desire
To the very depth of one's soul
Beyond to it's fiery core
Trying to escape from the pain
Wanting so much to gain
As if in a deep and dark well
Struggling to remove a painful shell
Running tired from the sorrow
Looking for joy on the morrow
Forced through one's grief
As if shaken by a thief
Consumed with pain and grief
Leaving one so very weak
Tested and tempered by fire
Flames that purified one's desire
poem by Lorie Robertson
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Lily's Silent Tears
Each night Lily lay down her weary head
She pulled her pillow closer
Turned her face buried it deep as it soaked up all the silent tears
She cried, she begged,
She wished she hoped but most of all she closed her eyes and prayed
From the corners of her closed eyes a tear escaped….two… three….till she set them all free
Lily cried herself to sleep night after night
Crying over life and love lost
Time slipped by
High above in the heavens one night
There way up above you and I
Upon the brightest star
Sat he
Writing away his heart
He felt a tremor run through his heart
He heard a distant cry
He closed his eyes and there deep within the beauty of his loving heart He saw that tear
One silent solitary sad burning tear that bore so much pain
He closed his eyes and wished and willed
To see the owner of the tear
The silent tear that caused the tremor in his heart
He found Lily lying on her pillow crying herself to sleep
He reached out and touched her
Soothed her healed her loved her
Her days filled with warmth
Her nights filled with moonlight and love
Then one cold night he left a tremor in her heart
With unspoken word
He told her
He loved her
They were friends
But
He could never love her in the same way that she loved him
For his heart was already taken
Night after night once again Lily lays her head upon her faithful pillow
Night after night once gain she cries herself to sleep
Night after night once again she feels the tremor inside her heart
But
Night after night he feels the tremor of another
The Stranger
When trouble haunts me, need I sigh?
No, rather smile away despair;
For those have been more sad than I,
With burthens more than I could bear;
Aye, gone rejoicing under care
Where I had sunk in black despair.
When pain disturbs my peace and rest,
Am I a hopeless grief to keep,
When some have slept on torture's breast
And smiled as in the sweetest sleep,
Aye, peace on thorns, in faith forgiven,
And pillowed on the hope of heaven?
Though low and poor and broken down,
Am I to think myself distrest?
No, rather laugh where others frown
And think my being truly blest;
For others I can daily see
More worthy riches worse than me.
Aye, once a stranger blest the earth
Who never caused a heart to mourn,
Whose very voice gave sorrow mirth--
And how did earth his worth return?
It spurned him from its lowliest lot,
The meanest station owned him not;
An outcast thrown in sorrow's way,
A fugitive that knew no sin,
Yet in lone places forced to stray--
Men would not take the stranger in.
Yet peace, though much himself he mourned,
Was all to others he returned.
* * * * *
His presence was a peace to all,
He bade the sorrowful rejoice.
Pain turned to pleasure at his call,
Health lived and issued from his voice.
He healed the sick and sent abroad
The dumb rejoicing in the Lord.
The blind met daylight in his eye,
The joys of everlasting day;
The sick found health in his reply;
The cripple threw his crutch away.
Yet he with troubles did remain
And suffered poverty and pain.
Yet none could say of wrong he did,
And scorn was ever standing bye;
Accusers by their conscience chid,
When proof was sought, made no reply.
Yet without sin he suffered more
Than ever sinners did before.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm sick
I’m sick of always waiting for the breaks I never get,
I’m sick of being left behind and sleeping in my sweat,
I’m sick of making money when the ends are never met,
I’m sick of being sick of life I’m trapped inside a net,
I’m sick of having to be strong when I’m a nervous wreck,
I’m sick of working dead-end jobs that lack any respect,
I’m sick of waiting in a line where I am never next,
I’m sick of knowing that I’ll never truly be the best,
I’m sick of acting normal when I know that I’m a mess,
I’m sick of other people saying that I’m really blessed,
I’m sick of having all this pain I feel inside my chest,
I’m sick of being stressed, I’m feeling so depressed,
I’m reaching for a goal that very few are to obtain,
And no more strength is left in me because of all the pain,
I know that I have said that there is God inside the rain,
But where is God in moments when my bodies feeling drained,
And where is God in moments when a prayer won’t explain,
The fact that I was born a baby lacking half a brain,
The fact my hands and feet are tied together by these chains,
I can’t break free I need some help but all I get is blame,
I’m blamed for the mistakes I’ve made and it is such a shame,
I know that I’m a winner yet I’m losing to life’s game,
I’m losing my religion and all I do is entertain,
The other mindless people I swear this life is so mundane,
I’m always asking why,
I always say I try,
I’m looking to the sky,
Accept the pain and fly.
poem by Nathan Streango
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The Pain of Loss
My heart is broken
My mind is lost
Full of pain
The pain of loss
Knowing you're gone
Just hurts me more
The pain is deep
Too deep to bear
The pain is burning
Like a fire, it burns
The burning is strong
So strong that it consumes me
Holding me hostage
While the flames are dancing around me
Just throwing out insults, that hurt even more
But I am helpless
Too scared to fight
To fight against the burning pain
The pain thats burning inside me still
Yet my heart is still broken
My mind still lost
In this chaos because of this loss.
Remember Tomorrow
When that's all we have
Yesterday grows
And today becomes the past
Remember the sorrow
Everyone has over things
They wish they made last...
Oh, remember
I will remember
Remember the time
When life lived over slow
Tomorrow seems so far away
Today was all we know
Remember when we wanted to
Grow up way so fast
now yesterday's full
Of all thats lost away now casts
Do you friend remember
Now that tomorrow's gone
And all that's left of today
Is yesterday's timeless song
poem by Jahrae Lii
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Sticks And Stones
Sticks and stones, might break my bones
And words, shall never harm me,
I was told that story, when I was a Boy
Along with the birds and bees, I believe
So I lived my life, through that advice
That was given to me in my youth,
That sticks and stones would break my bones
And words could do no harm was true.
So I stayed away from sticks and stones
And tried never calling anyone names
But the sticks still arrived, in my life
And also the words of hate and pain.
But then I had healed from broken bones
And bruises and all the nasty cuts,
It made me stronger, then I thought longer
About the words of hate and such.
Because the words of hate, I couldn't escape
As I noticed them around everyday
Destroying ones soul, until life they'd let go
Or asking GOD for vengeance as they'd pray.
Sticks and stones had broke my bones
And words of hate had really harmed me,
As I look around, I can still hear the sound
Of hate, and belittlement, and bigotry.
There are still broken bones and nasty cuts,
As I see as I enter every day with a walk,
But doctors heal then, as they are new again
But the words of hatred never balks.
In my life I have made many choices,
And I hope with one I don't stand alone
Never to ever use any word of hate
As I don't mind getting hit with sticks or stones.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Conversation Piece
I took this walk to ease my mind
To find out whats gnawing at me
Wouldn't think to look at me,
That I've spent a lot of time in education
It all seems so long ago
I'm a thinker, not a talker
I've no-one to talk to, anyway
I can't see the road
For the rain in my eyes
Ahhh ...
I live above the grocers store,
Owned by an Austrian
He often calls me down to eat
And he jokes about his broken English,
Tries to be a friend to me
But for all my years of reading conversation,
I stand without a word to say
I can't see the bridge
For the rain in my eye
Ahhh...
And the world is full of life
Full of folk who don't know me
And they walk in twos or threes or more
While the light that shines above the grocers store
Investigates my face so rudely
And my essays lying scattered on the floor
Fulfill their needs just by being there
And my hands shake, my head hurts,
My voice sticks inside my throat
I'm invisible and dumb,
And no-one will recall me
And I cant see the water
Through the tears in my ey-y-yes
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ave et Vale
FAREWELL is said! Yea, but I cannot take
All that my Greeting gave.
In you hath Hope her doom and Joy her grave;
Still you go crowned with old imaginings,
Clad in the purple that young passion flings
About the sorriest god that Love can make.
Ah! would you might forget, and so pass by
Unwounded of my kiss,
Made free of Youth's unmemorable bliss!
Love's hand that speeds along his daisy chain
Forgets in swift delight to tell again
Old prayers upon a new-strung rosary.
For when I part from you I would not leave
One shadow that might be
A ghost to haunt you, what you had of me
I would fold by in Memory's lavender--
Something my breath may very gently stir
In the slow fading of a rainy eve.
When you drop cherries in the purple wine
For other lips to drain,
Let not old nights betrayed leap up again,
Throw down no murdering chalice at your feast
To-night, nor find another woman's breast
Less lovely with the sudden dream of mine.
Yet if a stranger bear my name, or one
With the same-coloured eyes
Glance at you suddenly, lost dreams shall rise
With unintelligible swift appeals,
The broken images of old ideals
Shall stare from corners where as gods they shone.
Farewell is on the lips of the first kiss
But speaks no word until
The loud voice of Desire hath had its will.
Greeting is swift and beautiful, Farewell
Is slow and patient and immutable,
Knowing of old that love must lead to this.
Greeting! Farewell! The day's grown very old,
My heart put out the light,
Read no more pages of the Past to-night.
There are no roses here to miss the sun;
A soul hath looked on love and he hath flown;
Ashes are on the wind; the tale is told.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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Ave et Vale
FAREWELL is said! Yea, but I cannot take
All that my Greeting gave.
In you hath Hope her doom and Joy her grave;
Still you go crowned with old imaginings,
Clad in the purple that young passion flings
About the sorriest god that Love can make.
Ah! would you might forget, and so pass by
Unwounded of my kiss,
Made free of Youth's unmemorable bliss!
Love's hand that speeds along his daisy chain
Forgets in swift delight to tell again
Old prayers upon a new-strung rosary.
For when I part from you I would not leave
One shadow that might be
A ghost to haunt you, what you had of me
I would fold by in Memory's lavender-
Something my breath may very gently stir
In the slow fading of a rainy eve.
When you drop cherries in the purple wine
For other lips to drain,
Let not old nights betrayed leap up again,
Throw down no murdering chalice at your feast
To-night, nor find another woman's breast
Less lovely with the sudden dream of mine.
Yet if a stranger bear my name, or one
With the same-coloured eyes
Glance at you suddenly, lost dreams shall rise
With unintelligible swift appeals,
The broken images of old ideals
Shall stare from corners where as gods they shone.
Farewell is on the lips of the first kiss
But speaks no word until
The loud voice of Desire hath had its will.
Greeting is swift and beautiful, Farewell
Is slow and patient and immutable,
Knowing of old that love must lead to this.
Greeting! Farewell! The day's grown very old,
My heart put out the light,
Read no more pages of the Past to-night.
There are no roses here to miss the sun;
A soul hath looked on love and he hath flown;
Ashes are on the wind; the tale is told.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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To ------
I will not mourn thee, lovely one,
Though thou art torn away.
'Tis said that if the morning sun
Arise with dazzling ray
And shed a bright and burning beam
Athwart the glittering main,
'Ere noon shall fade that laughing gleam
Engulfed in clouds and rain.
And if thy life as transient proved,
It hath been full as bright,
For thou wert hopeful and beloved;
Thy spirit knew no blight.
If few and short the joys of life
That thou on earth couldst know,
Little thou knew'st of sin and strife
Nor much of pain and woe.
If vain thy earthly hopes did prove,
Thou canst not mourn their flight;
Thy brightest hopes were fixed above
And they shall know no blight.
And yet I cannot check my sighs,
Thou wert so young and fair,
More bright than summer morning skies,
But stern death would not spare;
He would not pass our darling by
Nor grant one hour's delay,
But rudely closed his shining eye
And frowned his smile away,
That angel smile that late so much
Could my fond heart rejoice;
And he has silenced by his touch
The music of thy voice.
I'll weep no more thine early doom,
But O! I still must mourn
The pleasures buried in thy tomb,
For they will not return.
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To
I will not mourn thee, lovely one,
Though thou art torn away.
'Tis said that if the morning sun
Arise with dazzling ray
And shed a bright and burning beam
Athwart the glittering main,
'Ere noon shall fade that laughing gleam
Engulfed in clouds and rain.
And if thy life as transient proved,
It hath been full as bright,
For thou wert hopeful and beloved;
Thy spirit knew no blight.
If few and short the joys of life
That thou on earth couldst know,
Little thou knew'st of sin and strife
Nor much of pain and woe.
If vain thy earthly hopes did prove,
Thou canst not mourn their flight;
Thy brightest hopes were fixed above
And they shall know no blight.
And yet I cannot check my sighs,
Thou wert so young and fair,
More bright than summer morning skies,
But stern death would not spare;
He would not pass our darling by
Nor grant one hour's delay,
But rudely closed his shining eye
And frowned his smile away,
That angel smile that late so much
Could my fond heart rejoice;
And he has silenced by his touch
The music of thy voice.
I'll weep no more thine early doom,
But O! I still must mourn
The pleasures buried in thy tomb,
For they will not return.
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kiss Of Life
See me a big woman, big woman look how you dance
See me a big woman, big woman caught in a trance
Dancing on the tabletop, covered up with the easter feast
Youre dancing for the fishermen, from the very large right
To the least
Dancing for the slow release, first the boy and then the beast
Then the beast
Burning, buring with the kiss of life
Burning, buring with the kiss of life
See me, a big woman, big woman so full of life
See me, a big woman, big woman going to be my wife
Watching for the different eyes - they change your face -
They come inside
Watch the spirits laugh and cry, watch them find a place
To hide
Watch the spirits talk in tongues, watch them take you for
A ride
Down at the ocean lies a body in the sand
Big woman sits beside, head in hand
With heat from her skin, and fire from her breath
She blows hard, she slows deep in the mouth of death
Burning, burning with the kiss of life
Burning, burning with the kiss of life
Burning, burning with the kiss of life
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unwanted Child
my mom didn't want me
she throw me away
you were there
you raised me
you are more than a mother to me
i am who i am because of you
you are the reason why i am alive
i am able to stay on feet thanks for you
you are the only one i turn to
the only one i share my secret with
my jokes with
oh life is a pain
a pain to the heart
i am an unwanted child
oh life
life isn't fair
when you told me to go and start a life on my own
i lost the strength that i had
My heart burns like the sun burn the ground
oh life is a pain
poem by Guenael Oristel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burning Inside
Will these dreams still follow me,
On of dark obscurity?
Cant you see it up in the sky
As it kicks you in the face and lets you dye
You never have the answers
And now you tell me the facts of life
I really couldnt be bothered with you
Get out of my face and watch me die
Burning inside!burning inside!
Absolution and a frozen room
Are dreams of men below
I try to grab it but the touch is hot
The mirrors collapses, but the image can not
Im scared of darkness in a light
I scare myself cause I know Im right
I see the evil in youre savage eye
As it cuts right through the sky
Burning inside!burning inside!burning inside!burning inside!burning
Inside!burning inside!burning inside!burning inside!
Calling the mantra with a blade in the skin
For the demons within
I feel the pain is the death and decay
But the lesson never fades away
Too little shadows, turn away
Another man through the window pane
Another slave and a victim of fate
Another lesson in hate
Burning inside! burning inside!burning inside!burning inside!burning
Inside!burning inside!burning inside!burning inside!
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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