A Dramatic Fragment
'Fie upon't!
All men are false, I think. The date of love
Is out, expired, its stories all grown stale,
O'erpast, forgotten, like an antique tale
Of Hero and Leander.'
-John Woodvil
All are not false. I knew a youth who died
For grief, because his Love proved so,
And married with another.
I saw him on the wedding-day,-
For he was present in the church that day,
In festive bravery decked,
As one that came to grace the ceremony,-
I marked him when the ring was given:
His Countenance never changed;
And, when the priest pronounced the marriage blessing,
He put a silent prayer up for the bride-
For so his moving lip interpreted.
He came invited to the marriage-feast
With the bride's friends,
And was the merriest of them all that day:
But they who knew him best called it feigned mirth;
And others said
He wore a smile like death upon his face.
His presence dashed all the beholders' mirth,
And he went away in tears.
What followed then?
O then
He did not, as neglected suitors use,
Affect a life of solitude in shades,
But lived
In free discourse and sweet society
Among his friends who knew his gentle nature best.
Yet ever, when he smiled,
There was a mystery legible in his face;
But whoso saw him, said he was a man
Not long for this world-
And true it was; for even then
The silent love was feeding at his heart,
Of which he died;
Nor ever spoke word of reproach;
Only, he wished in death that his remains
Might find a poor grave in some spot not far
From his mistress' family vault-being the place
Where one day Anna should herself be laid.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Children's Playground In The City
THIS is a place where men laid their dead,
Each with his life-tale of good or ill;
Here prayers were murmured and hot tears shed,
And passionate anguish moaned its fill.
Silent now is each voice that cried,
And the tears that were wept have all been dried
In the dust; and dust are the hearts that bled
With hopeless longing for hearts grown still.
Dead and forgotten! for Death, requiter
Of love, taught Memory how to forget!
The love that remembered them died. Grow brighter,
Oh, dim grave-garden, with dead hearts set!
Room for the small flying feet to pass,
The feet of the children over the grass!
The dead, if they knew it, would feel them lighter
Than the weight of a stone that no tears make wet.
We must die too, and the grief that will live
Must die as surely--death comes to all;
But you who come after--let Nature give
To our graves her tears, to our dust her pall:
Let her hide us away in her cold broad breast,
Let us be forgotten, and be at rest,
And over our heads let the great world strive,
And the children's voices carol and call.
If your heart on the flower of remembrance is set,
There is one way to pluck it--and only one:
Dare you ask your country not to forget
A name that needs to be graved on stone?
By grief, strife, sacrifice, scorn of fame,
You may grave on the people's hearts your name,
Or your name may die, and your soul live yet
In the cause you died for--the work you have done.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Shannon
Love lasts forever, isn't that true
Shannon asked that once of me,
And with a smile on her face
I then spoke with no haste,
I said yes, and too her I did agree.
She was a child, but knew not of truth
And she wanted that story to be so true,
As sadly her own mother has been
With yet so many, many men,
So about love, Shannon had not one clue.
Though she read it in books, and heard it in stories
Maybe that's why Shannon was so confused,
As she always saw her mother
With yet again, a different lover,
So poor little Shanny the truth she never knew.
Love lasts forever, to me she cried
As she showed me a picture of another man,
Though the picture wasn't of me or her father
So she wept for the pain a little longer,
As she wished, her mother could just understand.
The church said marriage is forever, Shannon spoke
Not only for a second, or a minute, or just a day,
To her statements I nodded and I agreed
And I told her, to her words always do heed,
And then in my soul, for her I did pray.
As the day will come, when she will be a woman
And I hope not like her mother that she loves,
As all Shannon wants is too be loved forever
By one man and not one man after another,
As one love for her, will always be enough.
Love lasts forever, that's what the bible has said
As Shannon ran to me with a smile upon her face,
God, he will join two souls as one
And they will be forever from dusk until dawn.
And never, will they ever fall from Gods great grace.
I want just one man, to come into my life
That I will love with all my heart and soul,
The man who will always be at my side
Even though we might argue and fight,
But one, and I swear I will never let him go.
I will never use my man, Shannon then did swear
And never will I put anyone above him,
I also promise I will not be like my mother
As my man I will love only him and no other,
And all I ask from him, is his love to me send.
Love lasts forever, I do believe that now
As Shannon spoke with happiness in her mind,
She then slowly closed her eyes
Then I could see the tears as she cried,
As she wished, and prayed for that day in time.
She spoke with wisdom of age, when she spoke
About a forever together with your love,
She told me one day she would enjoy it all
And never will she let her love fall,
And never from her one love will she have enough.
Poor little Shannon, the sadness that she has seen
Not even allowed to know her real last name,
She was never given a father to love
Only different men, to know and then hug
Poor little Shannon I pray, that you’ll know his name.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Her Blessings At Death (story)
(STORY) (5/22/12)
She was laying in her hospice bed
She knew in a short time she would be dead
She had no fear of death you see
She waited for it patiently.
She knew she lived a good long life
She was a daughter, a sister, a mother, a wife.
Regrets- she knew she had none
GOD had blessed her with a wonderful son
A faith so strong in GOD above
And she showered family and friends with tenderness and love.
She was loved by everyone around
In her spirit and heart true love they found.
The most gentlest person you'd ever want to meet
Knowing her was such a treat.
When she went for her physical that year
The doctors found what they feared
A cancer cell growing so rapidly
It was something they did not foresee.
She showed no signs as many do
But they knew her life was through.
Her family was with her 24/7
They knew soon she'd be in heaven.
The hospital corridors were filled with people
And bells were ringing from all the steeples.
She was not a woman of fortune and fame
And of nothing in her life did she feel ashamed.
Just a loving heart so pure and true
That she shared it with everyone she knew.
They say she died in her sleep, as everyone began to weep.
But before she died - she had told her son
"tell the world- LOVES JUST BEGUN'.
poem by Louis Rams
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Lucy and Colin
Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream
Reflect so fair a face,
Till luckless love and pining care
Impair'd her rosy hue,
Her coral lip, and damask cheek,
And eyes of glossy blue.
Oh! have you seen a lily pale,
When beating rains descend?
So droop'd the slow-consuming maid;
Her life now near its end.
By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swains
Take heed, ye easy fair!
Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye perjured swains, beware!
Three times, all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring;
And at her window, shrieking thrice,
The raven flap'd his wing.
Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
That solemn boding sound;
And thus, in dying words, bespoke
The virgins weeping round.
'I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says, I must not stay;
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.
'By a false heart and broken vows,
In early youth, I die.
Am I to blame, because his bride
Is thrice as rich as I?
'Ah, Colin! give not her thy vows,
Vows due to me alone.
Nor tho, fond maid, receive his kiss,
Nor think him all thy own.
'To-morrow in the church to wed,
Impatient, both prepare;
But know, fond maid, and know, false man,
That Lucy will be there.
'Then bear my corse, ye comrades, bear,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He in his wedding-trim so gay,
I in my winding-sheet.'
She spoke, she died; - her corse was borne,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He in his wedding-trim so gay,
She in her winding-sheet.
Then what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts?
How were those nuptials kept?
The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,
And all the village wept.
Confusion, shame, remorse, despair,
At once his bosom swell;
The damps of death bedew'd his brow,
He shook, he groan'd, he fell.
From the vain bride (ah, bride no more!)
The varying crimson fled,
When, stretch'd before her rival's corse,
She saw her husband dead.
Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains,
One mould with her, beneath one sod,
For ever now remains.
Oft at their grave the constant hind
And plighted maid are seen;
With garlands gay and true-love knots
They deck the sacred green.
But, swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,
This hallow'd spot forbear;
Remember Colin's dreadful fate,
And fear to meet him there.
poem by Thomas Tickell
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This Was Not Our Destiny
This was not our destiny, that union with the beloved would take place.
If we had kept on living longer, then would have been kept waiting
If I lived on your promise, then know this that I knew it to be false
For would I not have died of happiness, if I had had trust [in it]?
From your delicacy I knew that the vow had been bound loosely
You could never have broken it, if it had been firm
Let someone ask my heart about your half-drawn arrow
Where would this anxiety/ pain have come from, if it had gone through the liver?
What kind of friendship is this, that friends have become Advisors?
If someone had been a healer, if someone had been a sympathizer!
From the rock-vein would drip that blood which would never have stopped
If this which you are considering 'grief' this were just a spark
Although grief is life-threatening, how would we escape, while there is a heart?
If there were not the grief of passion, there would be the grief of livelihood
To whom might I say what it is- the night of sadness is a bad disaster!
Why would I have minded dying, if it took place one time?
Since upon having died, I became disgraced- why were I not drowned in the ocean?
Neither a funeral procession would ever been formed, nor would there anywhere be a tomb
Who can see him? for that Oneness is unique
If there were even a whiff of twoness, then somehow [He] would be two or four
These problems of mysticism! this discourse of yours, Ghalib!
We would consider you a saint- if you weren't a wine-drinker.
poem by Mirza Ghalib
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The Marriage of Dawn
Dawn dressed in darkness
Welcomes the lights of wedding
The day two hearts joining together
Two souls joining together
Bound by love.
A wedding is the entrance to a marriage
Stepping from a fairy tale carriage
Into quite ordinary air.
The realization comes,
Life is a beautiful dance
Requiring intense coordination.
The hearts are beating
Slightly faster than others,
Nervousness seeps through
For both the groom and the bride
Awaiting the great moment
Two selves, one life; two notes, one harmony
Loving not just one, but both of you.
Friends and family
Joined together
In the wedding bliss
To wish them love
To wish them happiness
To wish them great future together.
We wish them to find
Joy is in the simple things
Touching, embracing,
Like coming home knowing,
When your eyes meet and no words need to be said.
They already knew
Long before the sound of wedding bells
Love for each other till the very end
Still, we wish them love for each other till the very end.
So, let us listen to the sound of wedding bells
And join in the rhythm of joy
In the celebration of love.
poem by Yuvarani Sami
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Mindy and Casey’s Wedding
t was such a wonderful wedding
Two people so crazy in love
It was Mindy and Casey’s wedding
It was everything they ever dreamed of
Mindy was beautiful in her long white gown
Waiting to catch Casey’s eye
Casey so handsome and happy
Dressed in his black tux and bow tie
Casey slipped the garter off after the vows
And though it was a traditional part
There was something magical in the air
So much love they had in their hearts
They stood in the receiving line
For friends and loved ones to file past
For everyone knew this loving couple
Had something special that would last
They cut the cake soon after
Three tiers with sweet red roses
Their lives were officially beginning
Moving forward since Casey proposed
The little flower girls so precious
Stood for pictures with the bride
Donning white dresses too
So pretty they didn’t want to hide
Flashing that marriage certificate
With a happy smile on each face
Yes, life for them was just starting
Starting at this warm special place!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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You came to me at the autumn of my life
You came to me at the autumn of my life
At the end of the day at the dawn of my dusk
You came to me so suddenly and so swift
to stir the heart to shake the love I knew
You came to me a sweet flower of the field
Love forlorn, furrows of pain in the beauty of your face
anguish in your lengthy sigh
upon your checks the tears long ran dry
To remind me of forms of love I never knew
To challenge to intrigue life calm and satiate
Although I knew my years were past best
I smiled at your false speaking tongue
Outfacing faults in love with love fickle rest
But whenever you claim of true youth in your veins
Whenever say not I that I am old?
Remind you of love best characters of strength and sooth
And age in love? You mock
Loves not the years to be told
Hush to that false talk I listen no more
Nor shall I grieve for the betrayal in love done
Roses have thorns and fresh fountains mud
Cloud and eclipses stain both moon and sun
And the loathsome canker in the sweetest bud dwell
All mankind makes faults which they never tell
I shall not wear pretentious cloths not of my measure
To authorize your trespass with a moral compare
To excuse sins more than what they are
Is a sin itself
But against your sensual fault I try to bring sense
Your adverse playful nature is your advocator
The love we cherish and nourish at our youth
Will stay with us at old age to sooth
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Two Rings
He gave her a ring shown on black velvet
She wore it daily till her death
She gave him a locket ring
With scrolled letters and hint of heavy gold
He wisely knew its danger and left its wear to son
So this marriage through their years
That went of two score minus three
One with ring and one with out
This was a marriage that grew more true with time.
One last word, young lovers of our different age,
You would do well to ponder the enigma of a world
Where rings could count both for so little and so much
A world in which there was no magic in gold.
poem by Bill Grace
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x14-Lips of the Grave
(I suggest you read first the 'COLD WATERS'.3rd)
-Lady Rose Stevens-
The grave has a clever way of keeping secrets.
I stood here as I watched you
Swallowed by the earth.
How and why… I only knew.
I knew the grief you took away with you.
And it hurts like hell to see you go,
as I felt the guilt inside me flow.
The world doesn’t know why you died…
as tears and fears you always hide.
You always had your sweetest smile,
as you walked alone the street for awhile.
I never should have taken your lover away-
As though the lips of your grave
Has something else to say.
But then, goodbye - I have to go.
And let our secrets be buried with the sorrows.
I never meant to break your heart…
It’s just that when I saw him,
my heart just fell in love.
I never knew how love gave me life;
And how it gave you death till now.
But then goodbye - I have to go.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Our Brother John
He left Ireland in nineteen fifty two
Our brother John the man I barely knew
He was the eldest of the family
And the Homeland he was never more to see.
In life our brother John he journeyed far
He lived through peace time and he lived through war
In Korea with the Air Force of the U.S.A.
Far distant from the fields of Claraghatlea.
One of my sisters Mary wrote to me
She said our brother died with dignity
In death as in his life he showed his bravery
And at least now of his sufferings he's free.
Our brother John left two sons and a wife
And he worked hard all of his working life
Only in his sixties he seemed young to die
He was my hero when I was a boy.
From Millstreet thousands of sea miles away
Our brother John in a distant graveyard lay
And though I'd not seen him for more than thirty years
The news of his passing reduced me to tears.
He was the quiet man never spoke too loud
And of our brother John we felt so proud
In his death from his sufferings he found his release
And may he rest forevermore in peace.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Our Lady Of Solitude
All summer long she touched me
She gathered in my soul
From many a thorn, from many thickets
Her fingers, like a weavers
Quick and cool
And the light came from her body
And the night went through her grace
All summer long she touched me
And I knew her, I knew her
Face to face
And her dress was blue and silver
And her words were few and small
She is the vessel of the whole wide world
Mistress, oh mistress, of us all
Dearly dead; queen of solitude
I thank you with my heart
For keeping me so close to thee
While so many, oh so many, stood apart
And the light came from her body
And the night went through her grace
All summer long she touched me
I knew her, I knew her
Face to face
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wedding
O marriage-bells, your clamor tells
Two weddings in one breath.
SHE marries whom her love compels:
-- And I wed Goodman Death!
My brain is blank, my tears are red;
Listen, O God: -- "I will," he said: --
And I would that I were dead.
Come groomsman Grief and bridesmaid Pain
Come and stand with a ghastly twain.
My Bridegroom Death is come o'er the meres
To wed a bride with bloody tears.
Ring, ring, O bells, full merrily:
Life-bells to her, death-bells to me:
O Death, I am true wife to thee!
poem by Sidney Lanier
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Heart’s Chill Between
I did not chide him, though I knew
That he was false to me.
Chide the exhaling of the dew,
The ebbing of the sea,
The fading of a rosy hue,—
But not inconstancy.
Why strive for love when love is o'er?
Why bind a restive heart?—
He never knew the pain I bore
In saying: 'We must part;
Let us be friends and nothing more.'
—Oh, woman's shallow art!
But it is over, it is done,—
I hardly heed it now;
So many weary years have run
Since then, I think not how
Things might have been,—but greet each one
With an unruffled brow.
What time I am where others be,
My heart seems very calm—
Stone calm; but if all go from me,
There comes a vague alarm,
A shrinking in the memory
From some forgotten harm.
And often through the long, long night,
Waking when none are near,
I feel my heart beat fast with fright,
Yet know not what I fear.
Oh how I long to see the light,
And the sweet birds to hear!
To have the sun upon my face,
To look up through the trees,
To walk forth in the open space
And listen to the breeze,—
And not to dream the burial-place
Is clogging my weak knees.
Sometimes I can nor weep nor pray,
But am half stupefied:
And then all those who see me say
Mine eyes are opened wide
And that my wits seem gone away—
Ah, would that I had died!
Would I could die and be at peace,
Or living could forget!
My grief nor grows nor doth decrease,
But ever is:—and yet
Methinks, now, that all this shall cease
Before the sun shall set.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Portrait / Pinnacle
He had a thousand ideas
You might have heard his name
He lived alone with his vision
Not looking for fortune or fame
Never said too much to speak of
He was off on another plane
The words that he said were a mystery
Nobody's sure he was sane
But he knew, he knew more than me or you
No one could see his view
Oh, where was he going to
He was in search of an answer
The nature of what we are
He was trying to do it a new way
He was bright as a star
But nobody understood him
His numbers are not the way
He's lost in the deepest enigma
Which no one's unravelled today
But he knew, he knew more than me or you
No one could see his view
Oh, where was he going to
And he tried
But before he could tell us he died
When he left us the people cried
Oh, where was he going to?
He had a different idea
A glimpse of the master plan
He could see into the future
A true visionary man
But there's something he never told us
It died when he went away
If only he could have been with us
No telling what he might say
But he knew, he knew more than me or you
No one could see his view
Oh, where was he going to
But he knew
You could tell by the picture he drew
It was totally something new
Oh, where was he going to
I've so much to say, and yet I cannot speak
Come and do my bidding now for I have grown too weak
My weary eyes have seen all that life can give
Come to me, O young one, for you I can forgive
I stood where no man goes, and conquered demon foes
With glory and passion no longer in fashion
The hero breaks his blade
Cast this shadow long that I may hide my face
And in this cloak of darkness the world I will embrace
In all that I endure, of one thing I am sure
Knowledge and reason change like the season
A jester's promenade
Lying at my feet I see the offering you bring
The mark of Cain is on our faces, borne of suffering
O, I long to hear you say it's not been wrong
I stand before you now, a riddle in my song
The answer is that sweet refrain
Unheard it always will remain
Beyond our reach, beyond our gain
Trapped in life's parade, a king without a crown
In this joy of madness, my smile might seem a frown
With talons wrought of steel, I tore the heart of doom
And in one gleaming moment I saw beyond the tomb
I stood where no man goes, above the din I rose
Life is amusing though we are losing
Drowned in tears of awe.
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Thinks His Name Was John
(sandy knox, steve rosen)
She can account for all of the men in her past
Where they are now, who they married, how many kids they have
She knew their backgrounds, family and friends
A few she even talks to now and then
But there is one she cant put her finger on
There is one who never leaves her thoughts
And she thinks his name was john
A chance meeting, a party a few years back
Broad shoulders and blue eyes, his hair was so black
He was a friend of a friend you could say
She let his smile just sweep her away
And in her heart she knew it was wrong
But too much wine and she left his bed at dawn
And she thinks his name was john
Now each day is one day thats left in her life
She wont know love, have a marriage or sing lullabies
She lays all alone and cries herself to sleep
cause she let a stranger kill her hopes and her dreams
And all her friends say what a pity what a loss
And in the end when she was barely hanging on
All she could say is she thinks his name was john
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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982: Sannyasin
Sex between any two is banned,
But marriage gives sex the grant,
Not just a grant, it acts to sanctify,
Which otherwise society shall defy,
Love makes sex a love-making,
Supreme expression of love, but nothing,
Sex is a body-act, love is that of minds,
Love is life, though marriage may be a grind,
What happens to a marriage without love,
Goes on for the children in the hub,
If one such meets love in an accident out,
Marriage comes to a halt without a doubt,
In such a marriage how long sex shall continue,
As long as one is other’s detainee,
Sannyasin you may feel, I know its prostitution,
Though may give-in to you, knows the love-institution,
When family is splintered, what use of the marriage,
There is more in life than money and falls prestige,
Learn to be bold and use a marriage meter to gauge,
Free yourselves than being in each other’s cage.
(May 27,2006)
poem by Amit Biswas
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The Reason For Divorce
The reason for divorce you've guessed right marriage without marriage there would not be divorce
With birds and animals things are so much different they make love and leave Nature take it's course
They do not have acrimonious breakups when their relationships end they merely go their way
Though some species are known to be faithful and until one die together they do stay.
Some claim to know that us humans are polygamous if this be so the truth we ought to face
That we live an un-natural existence that marriage between man and woman never should take place
We'll look at sheep since sheep are polygamous the ram and ewe they make love for a day
Tomorrow he has another to make love to sheep do live true to Nature one might say.
What God has put together let no man pull asunder whoever first said that told a big lie
For ninety per cent of marriages as we know are long over before the husband or the wife does die
Of undying love you won't find many cases and this thing called love is an over-rated thing
Though the romance writers make their fortunes from it and of love the pop singer paid to sing.
The reason for divorce you've guessed right marriage though of undying love romantics love to read
But facts don't lie and the facts always tell us that more often than not marriage to divorce lead
Married till death do you part coined by some religious zealot any untruer words perhaps have not been said
And though a few marriages known to last the distance before old age most marriages long dead.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Long ago
I once knew all the birds that came
And nested in our orchard trees;
For every flower I had a name--
My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;
I knew where thrived in yonder glen
What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe--
Oh, I was very learned then;
But that was very long ago!
I knew the spot upon the hill
Where checkerberries could be found,
I knew the rushes near the mill
Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!
I knew the wood,--the very tree
Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,
And all the woods and crows knew me--
But that was very long ago.
And pining for the joys of youth,
I tread the old familiar spot
Only to learn this solemn truth:
I have forgotten, am forgot.
Yet here's this youngster at my knee
Knows all the things I used to know;
To think I once was wise as he--
But that was very long ago.
I know it's folly to complain
Of whatsoe'er the Fates decree;
Yet were not wishes all in vain,
I tell you what my wish should be:
I'd wish to be a boy again,
Back with the friends I used to know;
For I was, oh! so happy then--
But that was very long ago!
poem by Eugene Field
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“The Ceremony Has Begun”
The ceremony
Has just begun
Love is the groom
And patience
Is the proud bride
Who looks beautiful
Wearing that holy
Gown of uncertainty
Smooth high quality
Fabric of Fantasy
There brevity
And bravery
Are the bridesmaids
Peace and faithfulness
Are the only
Invited guests
For the
Wedding planner
Is God himself
And wedding vows
Are from heaven
The children of truth
Are playing their roles
The ceremony
Has just begun
Where tonight
Patience
Will be
Married
To love………..
Written on the evening of the 20th June,2010
poem by Munia Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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