After The Funeral
The Past departed with the last forced mourners, whose facial expressions, with their tremolo of tics, - tell-tale suppressions, - told of fear. Tension in tightened corners of mouth and eyes. terror, surprise, trembling, cries, each would disguise anguish masked, questions unanswered here, unwelcome intimations of mortality.
The Past departed, partly of its own accord, parts, shut out, ignored, roles played out as few could yet afford to flout morality. Time’s uncertainties by Time itself underscored. Departure leaving absence of feeling, - absence of feeling hermetically sealing from mind and face all trace of childhood innocence.
In place of innocence and grace, - Loss, emptiness! Emptiness here an imperfect vacuum open unto wilderness of self-delusion of strength, which, all the more fragile for its brave face, is self-defeating. A vacuum is strong, can do no wrong, being internally self sufficient.
The Past departed; at first sight seeming to ease out emotion. threat squeezing, freezing, unappeasingly diseasing. The surface calm afforded no balm, no outlet for the lotion that soothes the spirit, dowsing suffering and pain, incorporating the magic potion which to love and light restores the soul through tears. Tears, in childhood and advancing years, cleanse fears.
Superficial calm masks the rampant tiger of repression whose fire eyes prowl through the layers of sensation to plough the deep recesses of the mind, exploding the barriers which we, in our blindness, instinctively erect. Too soon we lose the key to unlock them, thus we restrain Love’s passage to the world.
Yet, although fears increase, prevent release, distort the soul, fragment the whole, there too are feeling forces, secret sources which well up and chart twin courses down the cheeks from which the heart’s resources spring, may bring relief, sing peace.
The Past departed with the last forced mourners, Their dark impressions cold and drear, conscience unclear. Unwelcome intimations of mortality pervasively intruded, could not disappear. Release was a luxury few could afford. Terror, surprise, tension in tightened corners of mouth and eyes. The dreaded shadow loomed as surface distress, masking primal self-pity, angrily welled up, and, for the living, shed a tear.
Part of its own accord, part shut out, ignored, the Past departed with the last forced mourners. Their drawn expressions, torn by tics, told of fear. Unwelcome intimations of mortality suddenly intruded, and would not disappear. Release was a luxury few could afford. Terror, surprise, tension in tightened corners of mouth and eyes. The dreaded shadow loomed near, as surface distress, masking primal self-pity, angrily welled up, and, for the living, shed a tear.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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After the Funeral II - 0208
The Past departed with the last forced mourners, whose facial expressions, with their tremolo of tics, tell-tale suppressions, told of fear. Tension in tightened corners of mouth and eyes. terror, surprise, trembling, cries, each would disguise anguish masked, questions unanswered here, unwelcome intimations of mortality.
The Past departed, partly of its own accord, parts, shut out, ignored, roles played out as few could yet afford to flout morality. Time's uncertainties by Time itself underscored. Departure leaving absence of feeling, absence of feeling hermetically sealing from mind and face all trace of childhood innocence.
In place of innocence and grace, Loss, emptiness! Emptiness here an imperfect vacuum open unto wilderness of self-delusion of strength, which, all the more fragile for its brave face, is self-defeating. A vacuum is strong, can do no wrong, being internally self sufficient.
The Past departed; at first sight seeming to ease out emotion. threat squeezing, freezing, unappeasingly diseasing. The surface calm afforded no balm, no outlet for the lotion that soothes the spirit, dowsing suffering and pain, incorporating the magic potion which to love and light restores the soul through tears. Tears, in childhood and advancing years, cleanse fears.
Superficial calm masks the rampant tiger of repression whose fire eyes prowl through the layers of sensation to plough the deep recesses of the mind, exploding the barriers which we, in our blindness, instinctively erect. Too soon we lose the key to unlock them, thus we restrain Love's passage to the world.
Yet, although fears increase, prevent release, distort the soul, fragment the whole, there too are feeling forces, secret sources which well up and chart twin courses down the cheeks from which the heart's resources spring, may bring relief, sing peace.
The Past departed with the last forced mourners, Their dark impressions cold and drear, conscience unclear. Unwelcome intimations of mortality pervasively intruded, could not disappear. Release was a luxury few could afford. Terror, surprise, tension in tightened corners of mouth and eyes. The dreaded shadow loomed as surface distress, masking primal self-pity, angrily welled up, and, for the living, shed a tear.
(10 January 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I am chained
I am slave and chained
My hands are tightened
Mouth is sealed and eyes blinded
World has seen it but never minded
Since years I am under occupation
Children and their mothers suffer sans relation
Looses daily one soul forever
Still world has no time to care ever
Any time the artificial line is drawn
Curfew is imposed and shutters are down
Siren raids are on and life is shattered
Life is turning from bad to worst and remains scattered
Is this the price my kids may have to pay?
The world may silently watch and have nothing to say?
Alright I shall bleed some more
Let them see me in tears furthermore
How can youth control their rage?
When no peace in sight and house is on ablaze
How many more of them you want to die?
Humanity doesn't want to offer even single try?
How long will you witness my body to collapse?
Cry under pillow and shed the tears?
Blood soaked bodies to be seen all over and no one to see?
Can we call whole world as democratic and free?
No one has observed a single fast when I was raped?
Took out cloths daily and still people have clapped
How would you tolerate such happenings in your own home?
When some one enters by force and remains as unwelcome
You may all open eyes and see the reality
Daily new born die for the poor facilities
I cry silently from the world and cover the face
Would you mind entire race is wiped out from earth's surface?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Open Your Eyes
When I look into your eyes
I see a lot of hate
Pushing me away
You're haunted by a past
A past that brings you down
So you throw it all away
Again
Just try to find a place deep within your soul
And don't deny the child living deep inside
Open your eyes and find
This life's better than you know
It's in your hands now
Just open up your eyes
Deep inside of your mind
You're forced to believe
That nothing's gonna change
So I take you by the hand
And I lead you to a place
A place of happiness
Like this
song performed by by 12 Stones from 12 Stones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears Reflection
Tears reflection
Moving sand, on them, I stand
Deserted In driest self esteem
Shadow of mine questioned me repeatedly
To whom my soul chained to
My soul, am i departed from you?
Silence abduct the sound
As if the flowing air ceased
Till the pain to be clearly heard
Loud in mind louder in heart
Whispering sharp, bleed me hard
On this finest sand, i still stand
When all energy now left broken
By the burning sun in front
So another step has frozen
Burned strength with aches pain
Illuminated rays, behind these eyes
Pigmented my vision for years
But as for now, fears deserted mind
Images seems blur, make pain so real
Dark as red rose to be lachrymose
Bleeding emotion wash out all sights
Dissolves my colorful thoughts
Be in the drops by my eyes pressure
Free fall touching my dry heels
Rainy tears soon wet my toes
And drained my sober continuously
Soaked me in the tears sea
Front of these eyes
All white, faded sight
No Images, left, up or right
The only one is below,
There's someone
The one that once was mine
Self reflection in another side
Dive into you, i will lost to
Drowning in you, I want back to
Stain my sight of past chromatic vision
Swimming with images back to mind
In a long trail of sleeping
Revived dream draw lines
Lead my soul find home
The lost has returned
Again...
Morning light wake me up
Soft on green grasses, I stand again
Eyes wide open with returned vision
Watching real after lost in illusion
Chaining soul and sanity
Back to me
poem by Unwritten Soul
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What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted
As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
But happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Maybe
The roots of love grow all around
But for me they come a tumbling down
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger
I cant stand this pain much longer
I walk in shadows searching for light
Cold and alone no comfort in sight
Hoping and praying for someone who cares
Always moving and going nowhere
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Help me, please
Im searching though I dont succeed
For someones love theres a growing need
All is lost theres no place for beginning
All thats left is an unhappy ending
Now what becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Ill be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care
Ill be looking every day
I know Im gonna find a way
Nothings going to stop me now
Ill find a way somehow
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, maybe
Oh yeah
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
What becomes of the broken hearted
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leave me not
my soul emptied my tears, and my moment gallop the longing to
see you, where can i turn too, when my eyes is closed wanting
to be near to you, yet! your so far to feel, the emptiness of my
heart, awaken the sadden tears dropp in my lips
want to hug, in your bossom chest, letting the humid coolness
of the dawn settled in your sweet lullaby song in my ears, my eyes
in a crystal clear bleeds in the wonderful moist of sorrow, for
everything is only something that is past
make me, the best to stand, for in my heart you are gone, vividly
i may see you in the naked soul you depart me, let me know you. that
with out you all are just a chime in the air that rings when it used only
as bell
leave me not. for i know you couldn't, as what you see is not but a
day to depart, remember me that, you may be gone in a distance
land where i can not see, but i will be free, you have been a part of
me and i will be in that day
take what is pain my soul, for you will never be near to thee, till the
sun goes high, you will be in me, in my heart you are the one that
clings my destiny
emptiness with you, will always be the someone i want to see, let
me tell you my dear beloved, that the moment is gone, when you
take me as one with you... be my love till eternity
(this poem is dedicated to our departed brethren)
poem by Antonio Liao
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Tears
Eyes are adored by everyone
but tears have their own tale to tell
understands none, the anguish & pain
of tears that are confined to the cell.
Flow of tears lightens one
none, call it shock
dropp of a tear is heartache
repressing tears, anger’s knock.
Sensitivity makes tears to flow
heartless has no tears to show
absence of tears making redundant, as it should
youthfulness and charming childhood.
Naked is the truth, tears make us weep
a lover for beloved, one loves so deep
mother’s feelings bring pearl like tears
sowing emotions, tears we reap.
Pointless, to shed tears for nothing
never squander tears for everything
tears denote emotional distress
a famine, a quack or extreme stress.
Imprisoned tears whenever freed
none is left who doesn’t grieve
shed the tears, but of happiness
and cheerfully, not of sadness.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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The Unmarked Grave
There are mourners beside an unmarked grave
witness how quietly they all there do behave.
All shedding silent tears for one they’ve lost
perhaps some loved one in this way to accost.
It seems uncertain if anyone about really knows
who is buried there beneath the grass that grows
at this distant lonely place away from all the rest
perhaps it was the deceased person’s last bequest.
There isn’t any indication to say when, where or how the person died
just these mourners that have come here it seems from far and wide
to pay their solemn respects to one for which only they all know
perhaps it’s the least thing to the departed one they now do owe.
The buried person must have left a strong impression in everyone’s mind
and when alive would have been an influence of some remarkable kind.
There’s no real telling just what the circumstances might then have been
but judging from the expression on all their faces one of deep loss is seen.
The flowers brought by all the mourners there
and placed on the ground at their feet where
they formed a cross inside a circle of distinction
to commemorate the passing with a benediction.
------------------
poem by George Krokos
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Late summer evening
Late summer evening, the sun went down in gore and stream
At orange dusk hue, the hot and feverish night succeeded
There was a windless calm, a dismal pause the succumb world greeted
The moon showed, the splendor of clearance, and deadlier gleam
Sitting on a porch under the night dark stark pall
Life weaken like the flame in a waning torch, a gripping stall
The moon climbed in sloth through the dilated orbit
Her ridged face scared, her surface uneven and morbid
My spirit grew fragile, weak and withdrawn; the ever mortality
Of all creatures of this amazing world, and adversity
Weighed heavily on me like unwilling, unwelcome sleep
Hovering like an ominous shadow; breathless feeling engraved inside me so deep
And each imagined spiritual pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship and religion tell me I must perish and die
Like a sick wounded sinking eagle plunging from the sky.
Yet this is a gentle luxury in me to sadden and to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep insane
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the mortal brain
Bring round the heart an indescribable feud and inner cry
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles human grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old time -with a surging main,
A sun, a shadow of an awesome reverence and magnitude.
Glory and loveliness have passed from my life away
For if I wander out in early morning towards the glorious East
The blemished splendor, the incomplete happiness encounter my way
A feeling of estranged departure; being taken; un belonging deprived of rest
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Licia Sonnets 43
Are those two stars, her eyes, my life's light gone,
By which my soul was freéd from all dark?
And am I left distressed to live alone,
Where none my tears and mournful tale shall mark?
Ah sun, why shine thy looks, thy looks like gold,
When horsemen brave thou risest in the east?
Ah Cynthia pale, to whom my griefs I told,
Why do you both rejoice both man and beast?
And I alone, alone that dark possess
By Licia's absence brighter than the sun,
Whose smiling light did ease my sad distress,
And broke the clouds, when tears like rain begun.
Heavens, grant that light and so me waking keep,
Or shut my eyes and rock me fast asleep!
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Far From The Heavens
I see the pain in your eyes,
i see their hatred in disguise.
I can feel the pain hidden in your pride,
and i can see nobody by your side.
I can see your face been masked with fears,
and i can taste the salty solution of your tears.
I can feel the anguish running in your vains,
and i can hear your cry through your pains.
I can see your terror in your past,
and i can see your smile that didn't get to last.
I can see the path where you failed,
and i can see the truth and why they lied.
I can see the reason why you went astray,
and i can see your terrors all in array.
I can see your anger each time you cry,
and i can feel your faustration each time it didn't dry.
I can feel all what you can feel,
that feeling of an aching kneel.
I can gather the pieces of your broken heart,
and your hopes that has been torn apart.
I feel your miseries that hunted you through the night,
and i can see why it took away your light.
I can see why you've been blinded by lust,
and why it feels so cold like frost.
I can see the ageing in your age,
and i can feel the range in your rage.
I can understand why you beared all these crosses alone,
even when you have someone that will never leave you all alone.
I can see you are on a mission,
on the lonely road of destruction.
I can see your future in the hand of fate,
and why it makes you irate.
I can see your face down in shame,
when you got no one to blame.
I can see your soul sinking in sin,
where all what it can hear is a loud din.
For every thing happening today,
you don't know where to run or stay.
No matter how hard you try you can't run away from your tomorrow,
cos it looks as good as a broken mirrow.
poem by Stanley Oguh
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Seema-Boundary
I have made net as permanent home
Come across with many people and welcome
It does not me any solution to my worries
As I am in urgent need and in hurry
You seem to be religious
Your statement is really ambiguous
How come you are here for many hours?
Generally relation turn here very soar
I saw her virtually crying and in tears
She had lots of worries and unfounded fears
Her husband was dead for two years
She waited for that sweet voice to hear
I consoled her to be little patient
She must be living in past and not present
It is very difficult to forget dear and near ones
As this feeling can’t be shared by anyone
I am very good at face reading
I have not used it for any kind of trading
It has come through after years of experience
I can go through eyes and submit without variance
I saw her very knowledgeable and bold
She had vast experience but gone very cold
The death of her husband had nearly killed her
She was alone, lonely and so much to bother
I saw deep scars of face which were indicative of great struggle
I could guess she might have passed through ordeals with trouble
She had remained unperturbed but fully shaken
She was not in her control and fully mistaken
She would miss a lunch or dinner
Prepare it for orphan child who lived very near
This was her only satisfaction and aim
She wanted peace for departed soul without name
She was baking enough this before
She discontinued it after his death therefore
She has no where to go but remain in oblivion
This is her own world or you can call it pavilion
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Sweet Child
Beauty of a dove,
Integrity of owl,
Courage of the mouse,
The silence in a growl.
Sweet innocence,
And darling mind,
I stare in to these bambi eyes,
Of what may come is that of the past,
I beg of you, spare me to last.
Sweet child,
Whisper to me your secrets,
Love me darlin divine,
Sweet Child,
Bless me with innocence,
Tell me no such lies.
Whisper to me sweet lullaby,
And bless me, harmony,
Forget the past, become anew,
Take me, let me see.
Shed last tear,
Bring me down to knee,
Express thyself,
In front of me.
Let veil be lifted,
And knowledge be known,
Let last hope be lifted,
And torn garmet sewn.
Sweet child,
Embrace me with calm,
Tell me all will be right,
Sweet child,
Please, take my arm,
Lead me t'ward the light.
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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Transperancy
I see your tears even when you don't cry infront of me
I hear your pain like tear drops falling inside of you
Let me in, so I can try to fix you
I'll bleed your pain and repair every damaged tissue
You say you fine, but your eyes tell me a different story
You living a disguise trapped in hell although you are holy
You are emotionally scard, pain tattoed within your heart
You no longer know what living is, because life and death for you don't seem far apart
You died the day you failed to live
Because you living a painful death (living a life that has no life)
You see yourself through a mirror
But the mirror sees your hurt at first
I know your sky will never be blue
Your brain forms those dark clouds, hence those rainy tears
You've lived with so much pain throughout all these years
Its now a part of your life hence your dreams are your fears
You need a friend, someone to comfort you, its just you don't see me
Or maybe its you in my mind and you IS me
No wonder why I can see you so clearly
I have my eyes shut and yet..Transperancy
poem by Kgagamatso Chimelwane
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The Punisher
I have fetched the tears up out of the little wells,
Scooped them up with small, iron words,
Dripping over the runnels.
The harsh, cold wind of my words drove on, and still
I watched the tears on the guilty cheek of the boys
Glitter and spill.
Cringing Pity, and Love, white-handed, came
Hovering about the Judgment which stood in my eyes,
Whirling a flame.
. . . . . . .
The tears are dry, and the cheeks’ young fruits are fresh
With laughter, and clear the exonerated eyes, since pain
Beat through the flesh.
The Angel of Judgment has departed again to the Nearness.
Desolate I am as a church whose lights are put out.
And night enters in drearness.
The fire rose up in the bush and blazed apace,
The thorn-leaves crackled and twisted and sweated in anguish;
Then God left the place.
Like a flower that the frost has hugged and let go, my head
Is heavy, and my heart beats slowly, laboriously,
My strength is shed.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Feeling Of A Flashback
it's that feeling you can't explain,
that sensation you hate,
like bugs crawling on your body,
and you can't get them off,
you try to tell yourself,
that the past can't hurt you,
but it feels like you are lying,
you are trapped,
there nowhere to go,
your palms gets sweaty,
it gets hard to breath,
your body start to shake,
and slowly your mind become fuzzy,
you not sure of what's real,
nothing makes sense,
all you can do is,
sit still and try to stay calm,
it feels like you losing sense of reality,
there nothing you can really do,
the smells trigger you,
to the past where you want to excape,
you remind yourself,
that what you experiencing,
is not real,
it just a flashback,
but your mind still don't understand,
you frozen in fear,
trapped in time,
all you want,
is for it all to end,
but your body remains in the past,
as your mind tries to pull through,
and just as it comes on,
it can easy disappear,
or comes back at a later time,
that is the feeling of a flashback.
poem by Mona Martinez
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Learn Ramdas!
Learn Ramdas,
if one is either lost in the
memories of past which are dead
or
lost in thinking about unborn
future, surely one is absent in the
present!
living in the present,
is presence of mind,
living in the past or future is
absence of mind.... Just like Shakunthala lost in
memories got cursed,
for absence of mind!
Every moment we encounter
with various forces of nature,
we get cursed, for absence of mind,
either by imperfect souls,
or imperfect gods
or demons
those are one with
natural forces! Presence of mind and absence of
mind,
let us know which is more
helpful!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Breaking The Chain
To find my spirit, is to free my mind.
My mind tells me what I want.
My spirit tells me what I already have.
What is pleasing to the eyes,
Is poison to the spirit.
Love things and use people.
Give the power to a thought,
Leaves me powerless.
My mind wants control of all.
My spirit says I must control myself.
For it is all I have the power to do.
If I fear I am sick,
I can will myself to feel sick.
Even though I am really well.
I live according to my fears.
My life is surrounded by my giant.
I cannot breathe.
I am suffocated, by what I imagine.
I think what once was, still is.
I fear for my future, based on my past.
I cannot move forward,
If I am constantly held back.
By the chains of my mind that bind me,
I can only be at one place at one time.
My past or my present.
If I hold on to both,
One hand on my past, one on my future,
They each pull me in opposite directions,
Leaving me torn.
Let go of the past.
Grab a hold of the future with both hands.
It's will to be a wild ride!
With my mind, all things are probable.
With my spirit, all things are possible.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The One
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Heard you had a story to tell
Sold your soul in a kiss and tell
Sliding down on a helter skelter ride
Into yesterday
No way out, the price of fame
Once its told will you be the same
Rolling down on a roller coaster ride
Well be waiting for you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Shock the world with your fall from grace
Glory days gone without a trace
No surprise youre a face without a name
But we all still love you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Its time to tell you
Were faithful and true
Take us back to the days
When we could dream
cos it makes us happy
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Present strength hidden sorrow
I stand tall as all the misery around me floats
The words when i first heard of the sadness in my life
But i do not budge for i am strong
I walk past all who offer me a kind word to help ease my soul
I decline for I let my strength shine through
Acceptance within my heart I say i am all right
Everyone watches as i walk past and comment on my strength
Some fear that i have no feelings others envy for they hurt so much
I walk through the door of my bedroom and shut it behind me
I fall to my knees and catch myself with my hands as the tears stain the floor
My strength is gone and now my sorrrow envelopes me
My sight is blurred as the pure rain falls from my cheeks
I can not breathe as I realize what happened
After some time i wipe my eyes dry and walk back out with my strength for all to see
poem by Draven Cestodio
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