Sonnet: The Himalayan Tragedy
When grief engulfs a Kingdom overnight,
As royal family members are found dead:
There aren’t apt words describing people’s plight;
All had been shot, the crown prince in his head!
The tragedy’s heart- rending a Hindu!
The sudden demise had filled vales with tears;
The mountain-land of millions twenty-two;
Who can fill up the void left by lost dears?
The beauty of the cloud-filled skies was gone;
A woeful mist covered each leaf and heart;
It will be years before new Hope’s reborn;
O God, help them forget and lives restart.
When woe befalls a nation near Heaven,
God, drive away untimely Death’s Raven.
6-6-2001
poem by John Celes
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I Lost My Crown
The day I lost my mind
Was the day you left for good
All the love that was left behind
Wouldn’t bring you back if it could
I lost my reign
I lost my crown
All I have left is a kingdom of pain
Where I lost more than I found
I can’t seem to understand
Why you loved me less
It wasn’t part of the plan
To make my heart a royal mess
I lost my reign
I lost my crown
All my dreams are shattered
All my treasures don’t shine anymore
I can’t believe I never mattered
All I can hear is the slamming of the door
I lost my reign
I lost my crown
Don’t need any riches where I’m bound
Tears will fill my throne till I drown
poem by Alfred Ramos
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Guilt
Sad faces, dark dresses, condolences;
Words of wisdom, grievance and conformity,
My chest filled with agony; my head filled with hope;
I wander around in loneliness, in search of ways to cope.
Walked past the yellow tree, a mind filled with memory;
The echoes of thee words that fill the shadows of the hill,
A quick look at the back of me, the cold air masks her sight;
I wander around in loneliness, to answer her last breaths' plight.
The guilt at the helm of it, the gun in my hand;
The death of my loved one, the murderer at large;
My chest filled with agony, my head filled with hope;
I wander around in loneliness, looking for ways to elope.
Suspicious at suspecting eyes, my eyes with teary lies;
I think of how it could have been had she not seen what I have been,
A quick look at the back of me, the cold air masks her sight,
I wander around in loneliness, for my need to survive.
'Go to hell, you filthy beast' her last words that spoke of me,
Our child is six, I'll try and fix, the void you've left for her;
I'll stop the kills, I swear I will, just one more and I am done.
I wander around in loneliness, the gun still in my hand.
poem by Avi Vodkaholica
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Family, Friends and Fellowship
He gave you arms to hold me up when I am falling down
He gave you lips to cheer me up when storms are all around
He gave you songs to fill me up when words will never do
For this family, oh Father I thank you!
He gave you tears to cry with me when I am filled with grief
He gave you joy to laugh with me when I find relief
He gave you eyes to watch over me as I walk the narrow way
For this family, Father I thank you today!
Family Friends and Fellowship keep me going strong
There’s always someone by my side I know that I belong
To a family bound for glory land, I find myself at ease
’Cause this family who loves Jesus, has His peace!
He gave you tears to cry with me when I am filled with grief
He gave you joy to laugh with me when I find relief
And because you love Jesus, I can trust you to love me too!
For this family, oh, Father I thank you!
For this family, oh, Father I thank you!
poem by Marquita Lawson
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Lost in the Oceans
lost in my oceans of tears
no family, friends nor dears
the sky is a ghost, love is a falling leaves
lost in the oceans of tear
the home is far, and hug is scar
the heart is April, eyes are flaring star
lost in the oceans of tear
where live is fade and love is paid
when friends are dead and words are said
lost in the oceans of tears
yet I found the beauty
when your eyes became snooty
lost in the oceans of tears
where you rose high in the hell
and deep beyond an ell
poem by Mohammed Sabbagh
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Gothic poetry Volume II; , Gothic romance shall be put away by death
Gothic romance shall be put away by death
I give my heart beneath my dead soul of heart
A loved dyeing my heart stops biting
Feelings of love has lost filled with sore of sorrow
Heat of the heart become so numb filled with sore once more
When feelings dies to death shall be a part into a divides hearts
One romance of love is a fatal of feeling appearing
Dies slowly as it lost of morning his loved
A pale face that frozen very much of cold
Beneath the fresh skin that once wasn’t frozen
A pealing skin once a beautiful gothic princesses
A written words “I shall dies with “my loved & my prince
Which I lost has dies cut with a love which
A slash with blood pouring a pound her bed
Where she laid a silent slept at the top of her dead bed
Yet she dies hours ago when her prince has dies long ago
A funeral for one a gothic lost her heart
Broth to two graves where the lover bury with
A peach of loved beneath the grave of death
poem by Putri Misnia Shary Bahri
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Returning Home
In the smoke I smell
Dead animals,
Dead neighbors, friends, and family members.
In the mist I see
All those who were once alive.
Behind me
Our town stands
Burned down to ashes;
Only skeletons remain.
This war has taken away so much.
In the rubble on the streets
I see
The way things once were.
Happy homes
Filled with laughter
Children playing
Stickball in the street.
Now
So much has been taken
Away from me.
We find bodies
In the yards, in the wells,
In our fields and on the streets;
Dead animals,
Dead neighbors, friends, and family members.
The war is over
And we are back.
To bury the dead,
To give hope to the young,
To start again.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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My Heart Poverty.........................
My heart is filled wit poverty it's alone i am hungry to be accepted
But my heart is filled wit poverty it speaks words of volmue but know one hears it
it's rejected.
My heart desire love and affection but it been shot in it's chest it needs reurrections.
Some say it's just a symptom but this heart is broken and steps on left on the ground unwanted......
this heart bleeds internally
My heart is filled wit poverty it's been deprived i don't know if it wants to beat anymore will it last another day to survive?
the conditions is bad ememies fightin in my veins went to my brain it blow up everything else was left was my heart and the remains.
Christian Guice
poem by Christian Guice
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Void In My Heart
There's a void in my heart
I can't seem to fill.
Been a parent,had three children
And a big house on the hill.
Hundred dollar in my pocket
And it didn't buy a thing.
Now there's a void in my heart
And a hole in my dreams.
Well I poured miles of concrete
And strung wire for telephones,
Dug ditches whenI was a yound boy
When I first left my parents' home.
Sang my songs for millions of people,
Sang good and bad news,
Now there's a void in my heart
And a fire at my fuse.
Well I did everything just like they said
So I could find happiness.
Went to school and got a college degree
And at my job I did my best.
As I sit here alone tonight
I see a billion just like me
With a void in their hearts and running from eternity.
There's a void in my heart I can't seem to fill.
I do charity work when I believe in the cause
But in my soul it bothers me still.
Hey, Lord, well you made me like I am.
Can You heal this restlessness?
Will there be a void in my heart
When they carry me out to rest?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Barbarous Chief
There was a kingdom known as the Mind,
A kingdom vast as fair,
And the brave king, Brain, had the right to reign,
In royal splendor there.
Oh! that was a beautiful, beautiful land,
Which unto this king was given;
Filled with everything good and grand,
And it reached from earth to heaven.
But a savage monster came one day
From over a distant border;
He warred with the king and disputed his sway,
And set the whole land in disorder.
He mounted the throne, which he made his own,
He sunk the kingdom in grief.
There was trouble and shame from the hour he came-
Illtemper, the barbarous chief.
He threw down the castles of love and peace,
He burned up the altars of prayers.
He trod down the grain that was planted by Brain,
And scattered thistles and tares.
He wasted the store-house of knowledge and drove
Queen Wisdom away in fright;
And a terrible gloom, like the cloud of doom,
Shrouded that land in night.
Bent on more havoc away he rushed
To the neighboring kingdom, Heart;
And the blossoms of kindness and hope he crushed-
And patience he pierced with his dart,
And he even went on to the Isthmus Soul,
That unites the mind with God,
And its beautiful bowers of fragrant flowers
With a ruthless heel he trod.
To you is given this wonderful land
Where the lordly Brain has sway;
But the border ruffian is near at hand,
Be on your guard, I pray.
Beware of Illtemper, the barbarous chief,
He is cruel as vice or sin,
And your beautiful kingdom will come to grief
If once you let him in.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Loss of life.........
When the faith is lost in the heaven
Then the peace will become an enemy in our soul
When the love is lost in our heart
Then the nature of behavior become full of sins
When the knowledge is lost in the school
Then the nation's future will suffer from wisdom
When the kindness is lost in the nation
Then the people of the nation become immoral
When a home is lost its brightness of life
Then the family will suffer from mantle agony
When the nature is lost its beauty
Then the pleasant green pastures become like a dessert land
When all those prayers are kept away from God
Then the tears of life can not be cured
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright @2009 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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The Little Match Girl
It was biting cold, and the falling snow,
Which filled a poor little match girl's heart with woe,
Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street,
Crying, "Who'll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!"
When she left home she had slippers on;
But, alas! poor child, now they were gone.
For she lost both of them while hurrying across the street,
Out of the way of two carriages which were near by her feet.
So the little girl went on, while the snow fell thick and fast;
And the child's heart felt cold and downcast,
For nobody had bought any matchea that day,
Which filled her little mind with grief and dismay.
Alas! she was hungry and shivering with cold;
So in a corner between two houses she made bold
To take shelter from the violent storm.
Poor little waif! wishing to herself she'd never been born.
And she grew colder and colder, and feared to go home
For fear of her father beating her; and she felt woe-begone
Because she could carry home no pennies to buy bread,
And to go home without pennies she was in dread.
The large flakes of snow covered her ringlets of fair hair;
While the passers-by for her had no care,
As they hurried along to their homes at a quick pace,
While the cold wind blew in the match girl's face.
As night wore on her hands were numb with cold,
And no longer her strength could her uphold,
When an idea into her little head came:
She'd strike a match and warm her hands at the flame.
And she lighted the match, and it burned brightly,
And it helped to fill her heart with glee;
And she thought she was sitting at a stove very grand;
But, alas! she was found dead, with a match in her hand!
Her body was found half-covered with snow,
And as the people gazed thereon their hearts were full of woe;
And many present let fall a burning tear
Because she was found dead on the last night of the year,
In that mighty city of London, wherein is plenty of gold -
But, alas! their charity towards street waifs is rather cold.
But I hope the match girl's in Heaven, beside her Saviour dear,
A bright reward for all the hardships she suffered here.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Between Life And War
Stood there alone between life and war
What can more destroy more than the fear of war
The ability of realization is lost behind the woes of war
Unbearable aches the sounds of guns and else....
Just we were never have been there
The peace was our country's name
What have happened to us
Who did all these deadlines
Lies melted with abject plans
Destroyed our lives
We were happy family before beginning the games of the guns
I can't name those things which are made by the man to kill his fellow man
I don't want to die
I still have dreams
I don't want my fellow man to be killed
I deny to see more and more tears
Happiness deserted our lives
Heart destroying things old man's tears
Children's hunger and their innocent glances filled with fear
The miserable war is running like a devil all around swiftly rending vows of death,
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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A Year of Anniversaries
This year is a year of anniversaries,
and I remember where I was,
and what I was doing on each of them,
when the news came through.
The death of two famous people
who had an effect on our lives
and a diabolical act of terrorism
one could never forget.
That stunned nations around the world.
Thirty years ago,
the world was stunned by the passing of a king.
The king of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley.
Although his voice was silenced
on a bathroom floor,
he left with us all a legacy
of his music that will live eternally.
Ten years ago the world lost a Princess
in a car crash in Paris.
A Royal Princess of the likes no one had ever seen before,
whose gentleness and kindness
with everyone she met
will always be remembered.
She was Diana, Princess of Wales,
but she was more than that,
she was a Princess to the world.
She reached out to the poor and rich alike.
She was mourned by millions across every land.
The legacy she left is to befriend everyone.
Then six years ago, something happened.
It drew together nations,
who sometimes were at odds with one another,
to defeat an enemy
whose fingers stretched across many lands.
Loved ones of many nations mourned
when the twin towers crumbled to the ground
in a diabolical act of terror.
Planes were ordered out of the sky,
and for days after as I remember
I never saw a single bird fly.
Silence drew a cloud around the world,
on that day of infamy,
11 September 2001.
Images flew around the world to television screens.
Everyone looked in disbelief
at the pictures that they saw.
The unimaginable had happened.
Terror had struck
the corner stone of freedom
with one almighty blow.
The world was a sad place that day
as many millions cried.
Now the anniversaries have rolled around.
Memories of what I was doing on those days,
come to the forefront of my mind,
of how I felt,
where I was,
when for a few minutes around the world
time stood still in my life.
So I ask as you finish this poem to take a minute of your time to remember all those who lost their lives and those who risked their lives to save people most didn’t know six years ago today.
poem by David Harris
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Brunton Stephens
The gentle heart that hated wrong,
The courage that all ills withstood,
The seeing eye, the mighty song
That stirred us into Nationhood,
Have passed. What garlands can be spread?
The Prince of Courtesy is dead.
The power that touched all human chords
With wit that lightened thro’ the years
Without a sting, whose tender words
Unsealed the fountain of our tears—
Ah! bow the heart and bend the head—
The Prince of Courtesy is dead.
Great Singer of the South, who set
Thy face to Duty as a star,
Though, in hushed skies of violet,
Thy throne of kingship gleamed afar,
Shall not the toil of common days
Add nobler lustre to thy bays!
O Mighty Voice, whose words shall stand—
When all our songs have ceased to be—
Steadfast, the watchwords of our land,
The guide and torch of Liberty!
The Master-Poet called afar,
And thou at last hast found thy star!
poem by George Essex Evans
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The Death of a Raven
As I was taking a tour today
I saw a raven lying dead by the side of a bank
He lay there lone, cold, dead
Nobody to bury, cremate, or carry him away
I felt sad
I felt life is so sudden, so short
A couple of ravens kept circling the dead
They tried to tell me something of the raven dead
But I couldn't understand them
Because I don't know as how to interpret the language of the raven
The raven lay dead by the pavement of the bank
He lay sideways
His feet up
His dead beak closed and dead
I felt a sudden rush of hopelessness, a sudden rush of undefined pain
I didn't stop there to mourn the raven's death
I ran away as fast my legs would pace
The raven is dead
Everything around him goes as usual
Life is a continuous process
Time, tide, space flows on their own pace
Nobody notices the death of the raven
Except me
My soul saddens by the death of the unknown raven
The sky is dark and cloudy
It threatens rain
A few drops dropp here and there to make the scorched ground a little
wet
I cry for the dead raven
Please spare a pray for the dead raven
poem by Ujjol Kamal
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You Are What I Give Thanks For.
You Are What I Give Thanks For.
I hope you haven't had your fill
of good blessings & holiday wishes
For I have yet to give you mine
oh how I wish it were hugs & kisses
All year long I miss you
& wish we could be near
Although very far apart we are
in my heart I hold you dear
Especially are these feelings
when Thanksgiving Day comes 'round
For you are what I give thanks for
with you true friendship's found
I hope your day is happy
filled with family, laughter & love
I hope your heart is smiling
& filled with blessings from above.
Traci Dean Walters,2009
poem by Traci Dean Walters
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Love Found
As I weep and wait for you,
From the chill there is no escape,
All night I walk the mist filled hills,
And long for your warm embrace.
I hunger for your kisses,
The pain in my heart to errace,
But I know this won't happen,
For the tomb holds your embrace.
Your lips now stone cold,
To the living do not yield,
My love, a soldier brave,
Now dead on some foreign feild.
My heart is slowly dying,
My mind will never heal,
I look for you in the mist filled hills,
Your love once again to feel.
How can my heart keep beating,
When my mind is dead to life,
My body feels so broken,
How can I bear this strife?
They say I greaved my self to death,
But it only set me free,
For at last I found my soldier,
If only they could see.
So if you walk these hills at night,
And two lovers embraced, you see,
You'll know I found my soldier,
And my love, he did find me.
poem by Teresa Dearing
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Single Step
As I stand at one end of the long path my heart beats with anticipation. Now as the door sling open and you a wait at the other end for the music to begin my thoughts drift. I began to think with one single step life as we knew it will be done and a new life shall begin. A life that may span I hope for fifty years or more. A life filled with laughter, but also sometimes there will be sorrow. A life filled with millions of smiles but also there will be thousands of tears. A life were our beauty will shine as bright as the morning sun yet as the years go on in most eyes hopefully except but our own our beauty will fade like the sun into the night. Our life together will go through many changes; except for our love for one another. Woo the wedding march has started and you have took that first single step to our life of love.
The Guilty Father! !
Hope no son ever-
Has a father like me,
As my tears flow like a river-
My son yet prays for me.
Once with a nail was scratching my car-
My anger went too far,
Taking my bunch of nails-
On his hand did I nail,
And that ended our lives-
Even though we were alive,
My son lay bleeding-
My head started reeling,
On doctors bed lay-
My child covered with blanket of blood,
And my tears flowing like flood-
Ashamed of my angers height,
Praying all to be right-
Doctors words gave me a shock,
And my life, stood like a rock-
Now my son lost his hand,
Thats where my anger made him land,
He asked Dad-when will my hand grow-
And that was my life's biggest blow,
I now had a fear-
He will never want me near,
But, as I took him in my arms-
I could feel the warmth,
As I saw him lonely on the bed-
I felt so dead,
As i came out-
Saw some words on the car,
My tears rolled out-
And my heart was at par,
As i went near-
My heart began to tear,
The words became clear-
And they were so dear,
It simply said-
Dad- I Love You.
poem by Anju Addanki
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The Poet Prince
By day he wore a royal crown.
By night we wrote his poems down.
He wrote of justice, love and peace,
A future time when wars would cease.
Through vision, dream and prophecy
He wrote of wonders yet to be.
In time, his poems filled his room:
The left side joy, the right side gloom.
For life is both the sweet and sour,
And weakness till the time of power.
A prince must think such matters through,
To seek a sovereign point of view.
And so, while lesser mortals slept,
The prince, through poems, wisdom kept.
By day, by night he persevered
With revelations that appeared.
God said, 'Forget your crown of gold.
The world is ready to be told.'
The prince removed his crown that day
And as God's servant walked away...
poem by Denis Martindale
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