Of joys and pleasing pains
Of joys and pleasing pains I late went singing,
O joys with pains! O pains with joys consenting!
And little thought as then of now repenting;
But now think of my then sweet bitter stinging,
All day long I my hands, alas! go wringing,
The baleful notes of which, my sad tormenting,
Are ruth and moan, frights, sobs, and loud lamenting,
From hills and dales, in my dull ears still ringing.
poem by John Wilbye
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An Old Man Medicates His Pains Away
AN OLD MAN MEDICATES HIS PAINS AWAY
An old man medicates his pains away
He wants to live in his mind
As if his body can be temporarily forgotten-
He tries to be as he once was
Easy in the skin of himself -
But the pains the pains the pains
They come from different directions
They interrupt they remind they dismay
The pains the pains
They may go away for a time
But they don’t forget to sharpen again-
An old man does not want to think of his body as his enemy
He is no pure mind and does not dream to be
But the pains
When so many come at once
And when no medication can really put a stop to them-
They will defeat him -
Drugged into restless sleep
He will not be able to die without them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My Pains In Spring
My pains have four seasons
A spring, an autumn, a winter and a summer.
My spring triumphs over the rest.
In the spring of my pains
I am surrounded by smiles of sweet pathos within
And in my garden the blossoming pains flutter in the morning.
In the autumn of my pains
I am preceded by the hills of hopes mounted
And in my groves the pale pathos shed tears in the noon.
In the winter of my pains
I am hidden by the mist of dejected aims
And on my snow hills the sliding glaciers ensure a fall in the evening.
In the summer of pains
I am blasted by the heat waves of scattered dreams
And on my anvil of my poetry new lines are made.
I like my spring of pains
For I too have a human heart
And my garden of dreams will ever be there.....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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That State of Wellness
WELL, well, well
Here we are again
Back to each other’s mouths?
You and i
Me,
The three sides
Tripod
Talk to me You
I am
(not exactly lonely
But I must confess
I need to talk to someone
Who must confess
To like me
(Silly? But I think we really need
Still
That confirmation that we have
Followed the rules
And that we are
Ok)
Well, well, well
There’s no island
Like a man
Or at least man can be a chain
Linked to one another
That chain that chains his body
To his soul
His soul to another body
A body to another body
All messed up
In the joys and pleasures
Of sorrows and pains
Salad
Days and hours and seconds
And Silence
How many more? How many more
Are becoming dead like
Everyone else
Searching for the meaning of our
Hundred ripening silences
Justifications for pains
Elevating pleasures for blissful joys
How many murmurs more?
At dawn.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Good Poem
a good poem is as good as it makes you feel
good,
about yourself and your world, your pains
and joys, your sorrows and pains, all mixed up
into one salad
a bowl of greens and reds
a slice of lemon, black olives,
a little pinch of salt, a garnishing
of olive oil, and some
cheese.
and of course, the purple onions
that you peel one by one
tears and the lasting smile
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Wino And I Know
The ice cream man he's a hillbilly fan,
He's got seventy-eights by Hank Snow;
Walks down the street, shufflin' his feet,
To the rhythm that only he knows.
And I've seen him in so many places,
I saw him the night I was born;
In a Bourbon Street bar I received my first scar
From an old man so tattered and torn.
And the Wino and I know the pains of street singin'
Like the door-to-door salesman knows
the pains of bell ringin'
It's a strange situation,
a wild occupation,
Living my life like a song.
Well the coffee is strong
at the Cafe Du Monde,
And the donuts are too hot to touch;
But just like a fool, when those
sweet goodies cool, I ate 'til I ate way too much.
Cause I'm livin' on things that excite me,
Be they pastries or lobsters or love;
I'm just tryin' to get by being quiet and shy,
In a world full of pushin' and shove.
And the Wino and I know the pains of backbustin',
Like the farmer knows the pain of his pick-up
truck rustin'.
It's a strange situation, a wild occupation,
Living my life like a song.
Sweet Senorita, Won't you please come with me?
Back to the island, honey, back to the sea;
Back to the only place that I want to be.
And the Wino and I know the joys of the ocean,
Like a boy knows the joys of his milkshake
in motion.
It's a strange situation, a wild occupation,
Living my life like a song.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Much Pains
there are too much pains...
pains within the heart..
the heart that beats not
for love but wars..
there are too much pains
pains within the soul
the soul that does'nt know God
there are too much pains
pains within the troubled minds
minds who not care for ideas..
poem by Villiamor Calventas
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Elegy X: The Dream
Image of her whom I love, more than she,
Whose fair impression in my faithful heart
Makes me her medal, and makes her love me,
As Kings do coins, to which their stamps impart
The value: go, and take my heart from hence,
Which now is grown too great and good for me:
Honours oppress weak spirits, and our sense
Strong objects dull; the more, the less we see.
When you are gone, and Reason gone with you,
Then Fantasy is queen and soul, and all;
She can present joys meaner than you do;
Convenient, and more proportional.
So, if I dream I have you, I have you,
For, all our joys are but fantastical.
And so I 'scape the pain, for pain is true;
And sleep which locks up sense, doth lock out all.
After a such fruition I shall wake,
And, but the waking, nothing shall repent;
And shall to love more thankful sonnets make
Than if more honour, tears, and pains were spent.
But dearest heart, and dearer image, stay;
Alas, true joys at best are dream enough;
Though you stay here you pass too fast away:
For even at first life's taper is a snuff.
Filied with her love, may I be rather grown
Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.
poem by John Donne
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Pains Of Predjudice
I have experienced pain
Undeserving and vivid pain
Pains of rejection and pains prejudice
Pain when my rights were wronged.
Pains while others endure undue harm
My heart aches, my mind bruised
From pains of emotional abuse.
I have seen and experienced it
Read about it, still living it.
Pains of prejudice.
poem by C. Albert Andrews
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Hymn 23 part 1
Absent from the body, and present with the Lord.
2 Cor. 5:8.
Absent from flesh! O blissful thought!
What unknown joys this moment brings!
Freed from the mischiefs sin has brought,
From pains, and fears, and all their springs.
Absent from flesh! illustrious day!
Surprising scene! triumphant stroke
That rends the prison of my clay;
And I can feel my fetters broke.
Absent from flesh! then rise, my soul,
Where feet nor wings could never climb,
Beyond the heav'ns, where planets roll,
Measuring the cares and joys of time.
I go where God and glory shine,
His presence makes eternal day:
My all that's mortal I resign,
For angels wait and point my way.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Intention of the marriage
Together to make love,
Together to do nothing at all,
Together to share and care
Together in joys and pains,
Together to stay young
And together to grow old
And together to bequeath
Theirs to their offspring
Are the aspirations
With which man and woman marry.
14.04.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Somewhere Deep In Me- Poetry
SOMEWHERE DEEP IN ME- POETRY
Somewhere deep in me- poetry
I live and breathe these words
That suddenly dream my dreams
And tell my joys and pains
With longed- for beauty.
I do not know how or why
But poetry is who I am now
And will be
So long as I can feel.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Life and Its Sadnesses Does Not Leave Me
LIFE AND ITS SADNESSES DOES NOT LEAVE ME
Life and its sadnesses does not leave me-
Quiet I hear and know
Pains of others pains of friends
Time’s wounds
I cannot heal-
Blessed now I painless walk through the world
Sadness is something else -
Pains of others are their pains not mine
Why should I be blessed
When others my age suffer so now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pains Of Love
Pains of love,
pains of peace,
Pains of work;
Oh, Yahweh! !
For i can see the malakim moving to and fro;
But, i will always sing: ' HalleluYahweh! Halleluuuu-Yahweh! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Joys Of Christmas
I see all the tough guys still not 25
Dying on their feet
Coughing, honking, cadging cigarettes
And still out on the street
Well, they got no money, nowhere to go
Fathers of 2, 3 maybe 4, what are they gonna do
Jimmy got a busted mouth in a fight last night
He says hes ok
Going down to the workies club (thats a laugh)
To buy something strong and take the pain away
Joys of christmas
Joys of christmas
Northern style
Flashing christmas light of police blue
Go spinning down the street
Women try to drag the men from pubs
Into the stores
And work hands in empty pockets deep
We stand outside the neon ice and wish ourselves the best
He says hes ok, out of work and fighting
Is all hes ever known
And laughs and says I worry too much anyway
Joys of christmas
Joys of christmas
Northern style
Lets drink to the likes of jim
Before we all go insane
And please dont ask me why
Itll take too long to explain
Joys of christmas
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joys
There are some joys within this world,
which words can never express.
The miracle of witnessing the birth
of another human being.
The forever love of two in whom
no raging storms can ever part.
The holding in your hands
the carefully crafted book of your own.
These are just some of the joys
that there are no words to fully express.
They are feeling on you can feel
and joys only you know.
poem by David Harris
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The Faces Of Our Women
Mary didn't give birth to God.
Mary isn't the mother of God.
Mary is one mother among many mothers.
Mary gave birth to a son,
a son among many sons.
That's why Mary is so beautiful in all the pictures of her.
That's why Mary's son is so close to us, like our own sons.
The faces of our women are the book of our pains.
Our pains, our faults and the blood we shed
carve scars on the faces of our women like plows.
And our joys are reflected in the eyes of women
like the dawns glowing on the lakes.
Our imaginations are on the faces of women we love.
Whether we see them or not, they are before us,
closest to our realities and furthest.
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Seeing The Young Sometimes Pains
SEEING THE YOUNG SOMETIMES PAINS
Seeing the young sometimes pains
Their lightness their eagerness
The ease of their laughter
How they effortlessly move
In a world they are making their own.
Seeing the young pains
And these old bones ache
At all the life
Never to be had again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I believe in you
I believe in your rising and falling
I believe in your smiles and tears
i believe in your joys and pains
i believe in your seed and name
i believe in your sunrise and sunset
i believe in your clouds and raindrops
i believe in your moon and galaxy of stars
i believe in you struggles and hopes
i believe in your desires and angels
i believe in your soil
i believe in your future
i believe in your generation
'cos i believe in you
poem by Namie Elisha
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Hymn 73
The church's beauty in the eyes of Christ.
SS 4:1-11.
Kind is the speech of Christ our Lord,
Affection sounds in every word:
Lo! thou art fair, my love," he cries,
"Not the young doves have sweeter eyes."
["Sweet are thy lips, thy pleasing voice
Salutes mine ear with secret joys;
No spice so much delights the smell,
Nor milk nor honey tastes so well.]
"Thou art all fair, my bride, to me,
I will behold no spot in thee."
What mighty wonders love performs,
And puts a comeliness on worms!
Defiled and loathsome as we are,
He makes us white, and calls us fair;
Adorns us with that heav'nly dress,
His graces and his righteousness.
"My sister and my spouse," he cries,
"Bound to my heart by various ties,
Thy powerful love my heart detains
In strong delight and pleasing chains."
He calls me from the leopard's den,
From this wild world of beasts and men,
To Zion, where his glories are;
Not Lebanon is half so fair.
Nor dens of prey, nor flowery plains,
Nor earthly joys, nor earthly pains,
Shall hold my feet or force my stay,
When Christ invites my soul away.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Release
`
auction your ciphers
whether cryptic or plain;
express your disdain,
princes and paupers,
your joys and your pains
upload them web-wide,
your caustic protuberance;
spread digital conflagration
let relentless talons purge
the sting of sulfur on brimstone
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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