Sonnet XLIII: The Unhappy Exile
The unhappy exile, whom his fates confine
To the bleak coast of some unfriendly isle,
Cold, barren, desart, where no harvests smile,
But thirst and hunger on the rocks repine;
When, from some promontory's fearful brow,
Sun after sun he hopeless sees decline
In the broad shipless sea—perhaps may know
Such heartless pain, such blank despair as mine;
And, if a flattering cloud appears to show
The fancied semblance of a distant sail,
Then melts away—anew his spirits fail,
While the lost hope but aggravates his woe!
Ah! so for me delusive Fancy toils,
Then, from contrasted truth—my feeble soul recoils.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Farewell
FAREWELL, and when forth
I through the Golden Gates to Golden Isles
Steer without smiling, through the sea of smiles,
Isle upon isle, in the seas of the south,
Isle upon island, sea upon sea,
Why should I sail, why should the breeze?
I have been young, and I have counted friends.
A hopeless sail I spread, too late, too late.
Why should I from isle to isle
Sail, a hopeless sailor?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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My Despair Comes And Goes
My Despair comes and goes
It is not the ultimate despair,
The despair of those who have forever lost hope
The despair of those who have lost what they never will regain
The despair of those for whom there is no way out
No way to begin again
No hope in any way forever
My Despair comes and goes
It is a small Despair compared to many others
When I am in it of course
I believe it like theirs Hopeless forever hopeless
But then a new day begins,
Or a friendly voice says a friendly word
Or something good and positive happens
Or the weather changes
Or some hurt goes away
Some sign comes
And slowly slowly
I am not there anymore.
My Despair comes and goes
It is not the worst Despair
Not yet-
Yesterday I was in Despair
Today I am almost already not
I pray my writing this
Will help some despairing reader feel
They too will hope again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Waiting Soul
Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord,
And cheer me from the north;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth!
I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd,
And wait with patient hope;
But hope delay'd fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirits up.
Help me to reach the distant goal;
Confirm my feeble knee;
Pity the sickness of a soul
That faints for love of Thee!
Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet, since I feel it so,
It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low.
I seem forsaken and alone,
I hear the lion roar;
And every door is shut but one,
And that is Mercy's door.
There, till the dear Deliverer come,
I'll wait with humble prayer;
And when He calls His exile home,
The Lord shall find him there.
poem by William Cowper
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Olney Hymn 34: The Waiting Soul
Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord,
And cheer me from the north;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth!
I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd,
And wait with patient hope;
But hope delay'd fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirits up.
Help me to reach the distant goal;
Confirm my feeble knee;
Pity the sickness of a soul
That faints for love of Thee!
Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet, since I feel it so,
It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low.
I seem forsaken and alone,
I hear the lion roar;
And every door is shut but one,
And that is Mercy's door.
There, till the dear Deliverer come,
I'll wait with humble prayer;
And when He calls His exile home,
The Lord shall find him there.
poem by William Cowper
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The Bohemian
Up in my garret bleak and bare
I tilted back on my broken chair,
And my three old pals were with me there,
Hunger and Thirst and Cold;
Hunger scowled at his scurvy mate:
Cold cowered down by the hollow grate,
And I hated them with a deadly hate
As old as life is old.
So up in my garret that's near the sky
I smiled a smile that was thin and dry:
"You've roomed with me twenty year," said I,
"Hunger and Thirst and Cold;
But now, begone down the broken stair!
I've suffered enough of your spite . . . so there!"
Bang! Bang! I slapped on the table bare
A glittering heap of gold.
"Red flames will jewel my wine to-night;
I'll loose my belt that you've lugged so tight;
Ha! Ha! Dame Fortune is smiling bright;
The stuff of my brain I've sold;
Canaille of the gutter, up! Away!
You've battened on me for a bitter-long day;
But I'm driving you forth, and forever and aye,
Hunger and Thirst and Cold."
So I kicked them out with a scornful roar;
Yet, oh, they turned at the garret door;
Quietly there they spoke once more:
"The tale is not all told.
It's au revoir, but it's not good-by;
We're yours, old chap, till the day you die;
Laugh on, you fool! Oh, you'll never defy
Hunger and Thirst and Cold."
poem by Robert William Service
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Song. Hope
And said I that all hope was fled,
That sorrow and despair were mine,
That each enthusiast wish was dead,
Had sank beneath pale Misery’s shrine.--
Seest thou the sunbeam's yellow glow,
That robes with liquid streams of light;
Yon distant Mountain's craggy brow.
And shows the rocks so fair,--so bright--
Tis thus sweet expectation’s ray,
In softer view shows distant hours,
And portrays each succeeding day,
As dressed in fairer, brighter flowers,--
The vermeil tinted flowers that blossom;
Are frozen but to bud anew,
Then sweet deceiver calm my bosom,
Although thy visions be not true,--
Yet true they are,—and I’ll believe,
Thy whisperings soft of love and peace,
God never made thee to deceive,
'Tis sin that bade thy empire cease.
Yet though despair my life should gloom,
Though horror should around me close,
With those I love, beyond the tomb,
Hope shows a balm for all my woes.
AUGUST, 1810.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Heartless
Can't you see he's the heartless
Your pain is not love
He's taking it too far
Don't you know it is wrong
You're the one for me lady
You're the one
If you'd only see in my heart
You'd know all is not lost
Your time is running out
And you still haven't made up your mind
Can't you see he's the heartless
And you're one of a kind
He's the heartless
You can't see he's the heartless
Your pain won't ever be love
It doesn't matter how hard you try
To you all is lost
He's the heartless
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Immortality
O Liberty! thou goddess, heavenly bright,
profuse of bliss and pregnant with delight,
Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign,
And smiling Plenty leads thy smiling train.
Eased of her load Subjection grows more light,
And Poverty looks cheerful in thy sight.
Giv'st beauty to the sun and pleasures to the day.
thee, goddess, thee, Britannia's isle adores!
How oft has she exhausted all her stores!
How oft on fields of death thy presence sought,
Nor thinks the mighty prize too dearly bought!
On foreign mountains may the sun refine
the grape's soft juice and mellow it in wine.
With citron groves adorn a distant soil.
And the fat olives swell with floods of oil.
We envy not the warmer clime, that lies
in ten degrees of more indulgent skies;
Nor at the coarseness of our heaven repine,
Though o'er our heads the frozen Pleiads shine.
'Tis Liberty that crowns Britannia's isle,
And makes her barren rocks and her bleak mountains shine
poem by Joseph Addison
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Stay Away and Go Away Pains!
stay away from me
all earthly
joys;
Evenly joy is mine.
Break tender ties and Knots;
Eternal joy is mine.
Dark and the wilderness,
Dove can fear and hide in its nest
Earth has no resting place than own heart,
God alone can bless;
Now bliss is mine. Tempting desires not in my mind
my soul sail away;
moral king Is mine.
Here would I ever stay;
infinite peace is mine.
Toys and things made of clay,
Born and soon worn out
Solid but for a few day,
Life melts and boils some day
only flow but can't burn,
Pass from my heart away;
Guardian is mine.
Farewell, ye dreams of day n night;
Humble Soul of mine.
Lost in this dawning
bright;
Source of all light is mine.
All that my soul has tried
Left but a dismal void;
Lord has satisfied;
Lord of lords is mine.
Farewell, mortal nature;
Eternal love is mine.
Welcome, eternal Truth;
Joy and smile is mine.
Welcome, O Loved and my Beloved, Welcome, sweet events of test,
Welcome, sweet nectar in my breast;
all that sweetness is mine.
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Prosperity and poverty
Hunger for food has been met;
Hunger for love has set in.
Hunger for power has been met;
Hunger for ethics has set in.
Hunger for lust has been met;
Hunger for faith has set in.
Thirst for knowledge has been met;
Thirst for innocence has set in.
Thirst for contacts has been met;
Thirst for concerns has set in.
Thirst for comfort has been met;
Thirst for compassion has set in.
Love, ethics, faith lost,
Innocence, concerns and compassion missing,
Despite food, power and lust,
Despite knowledge, comfort and compassion,
The soul will die a slow death
Long before the body succumbs.
The world will not die of poverty
But it will sure die of prosperity.
25.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Heartless
Composed and lyrics by valo
Your pain aint love
Cant you see hes the heartless
Your pain is not love
Hes taking it too far
Dont you know it is wrong
Youre the one for me lady
Youre the one
If youd only see in my heart
Youd know know all is not lost
Your time is running out
And you still havent made up your mind
Cant you see hes the heartless
And youre one of a kind
Hes the heartless
You cant you see hes the heartless
Your pain wont ever be love
It doesnt matter how hard you try
To you all is lost
Hes the heartless
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burnt to ashes
You burnt me, a wound of incomplete,
you remind me, a memory of indiscreet.
Deeply cut, all the way through my heart,
cold-blooded hands tearing me apart.
Mercilessly burnt, all the way to ashes,
move ahead steadily to the flashes...
My sore havoc is only yet to wreak,
and my days are yet to remain in bleak,
but my life seems to carry on,
with hope that despair shall be gone.
But shall despair feel my ominous envy?
Shall it be ungainly, to the hope of melancholy?
Oh I beg my soul, for you to leave,
Oh leave my lonliness spoken and grieve,
for you unhappy, unmerciful and unstill.
What great power lent you untill...
all my skin is burnt
all my feelings burnt
burnt, evermore, to ashes....
poem by Maya Hershey
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After A Lecture On Shelley
ONE broad, white sail in Spezzia's treacherous bay
On comes the blast; too daring bark, beware I
The cloud has clasped her; to! it melts away;
The wide, waste waters, but no sail is there.
Morning: a woman looking on the sea;
Midnight: with lamps the long veranda burns;
Come, wandering sail, they watch, they burn for thee!
Suns come and go, alas! no bark returns.
And feet are thronging on the pebbly sands,
And torches flaring in the weedy caves,
Where'er the waters lay with icy hands
The shapes uplifted from their coral graves.
Vainly they seek; the idle quest is o'er;
The coarse, dark women, with their hanging locks,
And lean, wild children gather from the shore
To the black hovels bedded in the rocks.
But Love still prayed, with agonizing wail,
'One, one last look, ye heaving waters, yield!'
Till Ocean, clashing in his jointed mail,
Raised the pale burden on his level shield.
Slow from the shore the sullen waves retire;
His form a nobler element shall claim;
Nature baptized him in ethereal fire,
And Death shall crown him with a wreath of flame.
Fade, mortal semblance, never to return;
Swift is the change within thy crimson shroud;
Seal the white ashes in the peaceful urn;
All else has risen in yon silvery cloud.
Sleep where thy gentle Adonais lies,
Whose open page lay on thy dying heart,
Both in the smile of those blue-vaulted skies,
Earth's fairest dome of all divinest art.
Breathe for his wandering soul one passing sigh,
O happier Christian, while thine eye grows dim,--
In all the mansions of the house on high,
Say not that Mercy has not one for him!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
The sin of an invisible smile
As set on this throne within I know no joy
Ask I spick to you from another world they could only fail even still they try to make smile the butterfly's dance giving there all to make me smile but I can only smirk they could only fail
As I set on this throne within I know no joy
The stars cry all out. it will be ok even still they try baby fox paint my name in the sand believing if I remember everything I am and all done could smile never forgot they could only fail even still the butterfly's dance
As I set on this throne within I know no joy
As the winds of eternity blow though my soul even still butterfly's dance even knowing there is no hope here there is no faith here no one lost here we only find are self's I can only smirk they could only fail
As I set on this throne within I know no joy
As all things gave in to despair they look up even still butterfly's dance gave up even knowing that there was no hope then all things join their dance with I can only smirk they could only fail
As I set on this throne within I know no joy
As I fade away into the sky I could see stars join the dance why even smirk I only cry as butterfly's dance without hope make these hold onto faith feel shame as butterfly's dance
As I set on this the throne of one revered by all things within I know no joy
I know all they could only fail as butterfly's dance even with their last breath
as they fade away I know only this
The sin of an invisible smile
poem by Cortez The Dark All Seer
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My Hungry Soul
Spilling heartfelt emotions upon the page quells my pain,
I wander lost and alone in a barren emotionless land,
Consumed by a desperate hunger for love and affection,
My hunger not purely to dine upon the pleasures of the flesh,
But the intoxicating serenity of my hungry soul's emotions,
I crave that spellbinding look between two star crossed lovers,
When two hearts touch and the light of love shines,
To feel that sublime euphoria washing over my soul again,
I yearn that feeling once more, I need it to feel truly alive,
Like a stranded soul seeking out an oasis in the desert,
I'm lost in the darkness wandering a land of bleak shadows,
The pin holes in night's curtain my only glimmer of light,
In my darkest hour... Shall I ever again bathe in loves warming rays?
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Macquarie Harbour
Macquarie Harbour jailers lock
the sullen gates no more.....
but lash-strokes sound in every shock
of ocean on the dismal rocks
along that barren shore.
No more the bolters hear the hound
that bays upon the wind,
and terror-spurred kepp onward-bound
until they drop upon the ground
starved and terror-pinned....
But gales that whine among the hills
sniff at the savage tracks
the hopeless took. The snowfall fills
bleak ranges; then the moonlight spills
broad arows on their backs.
poem by Rex Ingamells
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He Sendeth Sun, He Sendeth Shower
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower:
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
Can loving children e'er reprove
With murmurs whom they trust and love?
Creator! I would ever be
A trusting, loving child to thee:
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
Oh, ne'er will I at life repine:
Enough that thou hast made it mine.
When falls the shadow cold of death
I yet will sing, with parting breath,
As comes to me or shade or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
poem by Sarah Flower Adams
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Hymn
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower:
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
Can loving children e'er reprove
With murmurs whom they trust and love?
Creator! I would ever be
A trusting, loving child to thee:
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
Oh, ne'er will I at life repine:
Enough that thou hast made it mine.
When falls the shadow cold of death
I yet will sing, with parting breath,
As comes to me or shade or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
poem by Sarah Flower Adams
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Remembrance
How dear to me the twilight hour!
It breathes, it speaks of pleasures past;
When Laura sought this humble bower,
And o'er it courtly splendours cast.
Fond fancy's friend, dim twilight, hail!
Thou canst the absent nymph restore;
And as around thy shadows sail,
They bring the form I still adore.
Again her pensive smile I view,
Her modest eye's soft chastened fire;
And mark her cheek of tender hue
From thee a softer tint acquire.
No eye but mine in that dim hour
The softly blushing maid could see;
And then her voice of magic power
Charmed with its sweetness none but me.
But now, alas! to distant plains,
To crowded scenes, perhaps, she flies;
She speaks, to charm unnumbered swains;
She smiles, to bless unnumbered eyes.
Yet if, while crowds before thee bow,
Thy lips to favouring smiles incline,
Think not, sweet maid, their bosoms glow
With love as pure, as true as mine.
Reflect,....I knelt before thy feet,
Afraid to speak, or look, or move,
Nor e'en thy pity dared entreat
For hours of hopeless pining love.
They can with bold unfaltering tongue
Their loudly-boasted flame reveal;
But, Laura, spurn the heartless throng,
They talk of pangs I only feel .
From glowing cheeks, and sparkling eyes,
O turn, my Laura! turn to him
From whose sunk cheek the colour flies,
Whose eye with hopeless love is dim.
O turn to me, whose blighted youth
The wreck of former days appears!....
But well the change has proved my truth,
And thou wilt own that change endears.
Yet, no; ah, no! forget, forget
My ardent love, my faith, and me;
Remember not we ever met;
I would not cause one pang to thee.
And when I hear that thou art blest,
My own distress I'll learn to scorn;
I'll bid imperious anguish rest,
While smiles my pallid lips adorn.
Deep in my heart the load of grief,
Concealed from every glance, shall lie;
Till sorrow proves its own relief,
And I shall suffer, smile, and die.
poem by Amelia Opie
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