Mourning Women
All veiled in black, with faces hid from sight,
Crouching together in the jolting cart,
What forms are these that pass alone, apart,
In abject apathy to life's delight?
The motley crowd, fantastically bright,
Shifts gorgeous through each dazzling street and mart;
Only these sisters of the suffering heart
Strike discords in this symphony of light.
Most wretched women! whom your prophet dooms
To take love's penalties without its prize!
Yes; you shall bear the unborn in your wombs,
And water dusty death with streaming eyes,
And, wailing, beat your breasts among the tombs;
But souls ye have none fit for Paradise.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Related quotes
Mourning Women
All veiled in black, with faces hid from sight,
Crouching together in the jolting cart,
What forms are these that pass alone, apart,
In abject apathy to life's delight?
The motley crowd, fantastically bright,
Shifts gorgeous through each dazzling street and mart;
Only these sisters of the suffering heart
Strike discords in this symphony of light.
Most wretched women! whom your prophet dooms
To take love's penalties without its prize!
Yes; you shall bear the unborn in your wombs,
And water dusty death with streaming eyes,
And, wailing, beat your breasts among the tombs;
But souls ye have none fit for Paradise.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Abortions Isn’t Health-care
Must one kill children healthy, hale,
If contraceptives were to fail?
Must parents murder children own,
And make the Maker Himself frown?
You need not protect unborn’s health,
But stop the gruesome killings stealth!
No human heart with humaneness
Could kill one’s offspring but caress.
The money wasted is so much;
The world shouldn’t lose its human touch;
This world belongs to unborn too!
Let unborn live like how you do.
Man does not live by bread alone,
But by the words uttered by God;
Don’t force the God of life to moan,
Inviting wrath that turns His rod!
When love of God has given life,
He’ll certainly not give more strife.
No man predicts the things to come,
Life’s woes, like joys, we must welcome.
Life can’t become a paradise
By families cut short in size;
Blessings from God decides success;
Children are living gifts precious!
Don’t kill your unborn children please;
Let fears of rearing in you cease;
Children are human resources;
Rose-plant must have many roses!
Why make the human wombs mere tombs,
When money’s poured to see the moon?
Innocent blood that’s spilt in wombs
Could make the nations accursed soon.
‘Let unborn children live, like you and me! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-27-2009
poem by John Celes
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Visibility
Because my eyes were none to bright
Strong spectacles I bought,
And lo! there sprang into my sight
A life beyond my thought:
A world of wonder and delight
My magic lenses brought.
Aye, sudden leaping in my sight
The far became the near;
Life unbelievably was bright,
And vividly was clear.
My heart was lifted with delight,
Then--then I shrank in fear.
For faces I had thought were gay
I saw were lined with care,
While strange corruption and decay
Surprised me everywhere:
Dismayed I put my specs away,--
Such truth I could not bear.
And now I do not want to see
With clarity of view;
For while there's heaven hell may be
More tragically true:
Though dim may be Reality,
Sheer love shines through.
poem by Robert William Service
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“light”
Light-Light ever bright
Flood my every pore
Banish the black of night
From my very core
Light-Light ever bright
Sent from high above
Still my inner fight
Fill me with your love
Light-Light ever bright
You bring me cheer 'n joy
My heart fills with delight
I’m such a happy boy
Light-Light ever bright
Your gift to me is second sight
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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One Face
One face in a crowd is hard to find.
One face in that crowd is on my mind.
How can I find the face of one,
The face that to me is like the sun?
Shiny and bright with a radiant glow,
The face that picks me up when I'm low,
Eyes that light up wherever they are
Just like the splendor of an evening star,
Lips that break into the sweetest smile
That lingers for me for the longest while,
Hair that surrounds that face like a frame
That always sets my heart aflame.
I search all the faces but cannot see
The one that means the world to me.
I'm lost. I'm wretched. This should not be.
There are too many faces. I'm lost at sea.
One last glance and to my surprise
There's your face, your smile, your eyes.
The crowd's still there but not for me.
For the face I love is all I see.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Eyes Wide Opened
The light...
Bright,
Has been turned on.
Most who chose to delight in darkness,
Have come to realize...
This kept prize has been diminished.
This prize of darkness,
From them has been lifted.
Gone from its prolonged visit.
The light...
Bright,
Has been turned on.
And those fearing the sight of dawn,
Are being effectively etched away from it.
Those fearing the sight of dawn,
Are being minimized...
With the removal of their disguises.
Eyes wide opened welcome Sun rise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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C. L. M.
In the dark womb where I began
My mother's life made me a man.
Through all the months of human birth
Her beauty fed my common earth.
I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir.
But through the death of some of her.
Down in the darkness of the grave
She cannot see the life she gave.
For all her love, she cannot tell
Whether I use it ill or well,
Nor knock at dusty doors to find
Her beauty dusty in the mind.
If the grave's gates could be undone,
She would not know her little son,
I am so grown. If we should meet
She would pass by me in the street,
Unless my soul's face let her see
My sense of what she did for me.
What have I done to keep in mind
My debt to her and womankind ?
What woman's happier life repays
Her for those months of wretched days ?
For all my rnouthless body leeched
Ere Birth's releasing hell was reached ?
What have I done, or tried, or said
In thanks to that dear woman dead ?
Men triumph over women still,
Men trample women's rights at will.
And man's lust roves the world untamed.
* • * •
O grave, keep shut lest I be shamed.
poem by John Masefield (1902)
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The Eyes Of A Woman
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a woman
You can tell a lot about a woman, just from her eyes
No eyes could ever subdue the artistry of a woman's
As they say, the beauty of a woman lies in her eyes
And indeed they do, just look at those gorgeous eyes
Look at those olive green eyes, full of ecstasy and desire
I've never seen such angelic eyes in my life
Which is what led me to this paper and pen
As from the first time my eyes met them
I could not simply get them out of my head
I could not help but notice Oh, those dazzling green eyes
I am left speechless, as I remember that sight of grace
You indeed can tell a lot about a woman just from her eyes
Green is the colour of nature, and all the beauty it withholds
Symbolizing growth, harmony, freshness and fertility
Green has strong emotional correspondence with safety
It withholds great healing power, looking at them, I noticed
Being the most restful colour for the human eye, I realised
Green suggests Stability and endurance, indicates growth and hope
Olive green is the traditional colour of peace
Just from looking at your enticing green eyes, I noticed
The kind of woman that you are, how special you indeed are
My sweet love I do bid you, never have my eyes ever seen
Such magnificence, such divine delicacy in the eyes of a woman
And I do bid you, never have my eyes ever met yours like that
Never have my eyes ever fallen in love with the eyes of a woman
Never have my eyes smiled at the sight of the eyes of a woman
Never has my heart skipped a beat at such a sight
And I can only write on a paper, what magnificence I have witnessed
But I do bid you, that words alone may not bear what I have experienced
poem by Gabriel Gauci Maistre
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Appropriate Message
Doe, foe, toe, woe!
Like a ravenous wolf;
But in the morning, it devours the foe.
This is a message for an appropriate time,
Like a strong donkey lying down between two saddlebags;
And in the evening, it will divide the plunder!
Doe, foe, roe, woe!
Blessings the breasts and the wombs;
Of an appropriate message to all the women,
But to bear a child's burden is like to embalm his father!
But life at times is like a wild colt by a spring of water.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What is Death to you?
Those who see death
know the Horror of its sight
Those who meet death
tend to fall upon mystical places
Those who seek death
hear the wailing of black laughter
Those who beat death
see diffrently how things had just been
What is Death to you?
poem by Sammy S. Quence
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What is Death to you?
Those who see death
know the Horror of its sight
Those who meet death
tend to fall upon mystical places
Those who seek death
hear the wailing of black laughter
Those who beat death
see diffrently how things had just been
What is Death to you?
poem by Sammy S. Quence
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At the Stage Door
Kicking my heels in the street,
Here at the edge of the pavement I wait for you, sweet,
Here in the crowd, the blent noises, blurred lights, of the street.
Under the archway sheer,
Sudden and black as a hole in the placarded wall,
Faces flicker and veer,
Wavering out of the darkness into the light,
Wavering back into night;
Under the archway, suddenly seen, the curls
And thin, bright faces of girls,
Roving eyes, and smiling lips, and the glance
Seeking, finding perchance,
Here at the edge of the pavement, there by the wall,
One face, out of them all.
Steadily, face after face,
Cheeks with the blush of the paint yet lingering, eyes
Still with their circle of black ...
But hers, but hers?
Rose-leaf cheeks, and flower-soft lips, and the grace
Of the vanishing Spring come back,
And a child's heart blithe in the sudden and sweet surprise,
Subtly expectant, that stirs
In the smile of her heart to my heart, of her eyes to my eyes
poem by Arthur Symons
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Early morning-Florence
the angel raised his head
sucked in rain
and framed in an archway unfurled his wings
shattered morning with his cries
and light from his eyes
burned deep into stone souls
wakened the dead
on walls
in tombs and wombs in catacombs
and the rooms of smart hotels
then hanging from an umbrella
came billowing down the street
a lady from Nebraska
laid Euros at his feet
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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`Through Pleasant Paths
Through pleasant paths, through dainty ways,
Love leads my feet;
Where beauty shines with living rays,
Soft, gentle, sweet;
The placid heart at random strays,
And sings, and smiles, and laughs and plays,
And gathers from the summer days
Their light and heat,
That in its chambers burn and blaze
And beam and beat.
I throw myself among the ferns
Under the shade,
And watch the summer sun that burns
On dell and glade;
To thee, my dear, my fancy turns,
In thee its Paradise discerns,
For thee it sighs, for thee it yearns,
My chosen maid;
And that still depth of passion learns
Which cannot fade.
The wind that whispers in the night,
Subtle and free,
The gorgeous noonday's blinding light,
On hill and tree,
All lovely things that meet my sight,
All shifting lovelinesses bright,
Speak to my heart with calm delight,
Seeming to be
Cloth'd with enchantment, robed in white,
To sing of thee.
The ways of life are hard and cold
To one alone;
Bitter the strife for place and gold --
We weep and groan:
But when love warms the heart grows bold;
And when our arms the prize enfold,
Dearest! the heart can hardly hold
The bliss unknown,
Unspoken, never to be told --
My own, my own!
poem by James Lionel Michael
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black RESPECT
Black shoes,
black suits,
black sandals
black you,
black specs,
black life,
black faces,
black casket dropped deep the dark grave,
Red ribbons,
red lights,
red flowers,
red wine.
Hearse sirens
wailing women,
Black speeches,
Blackened praises, all in all they call it the last respect
poem by Joub kahuria
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The War
Strangers are the souls in the world of the wars
The lives cradle somehow between the death and life
They try to survive the hardship of the life the abject truths of life are there with all their ugly faces
The mercy of hearts are extinguished
The spirits at the cruelty of the men got lost
What the eyes sees the heart ignores
Ah strangers are the souls at the winter night they shiver alone
Like wounded birds they are pale ignored
Alone in this world no place for the broken souls
People are selfish their hearts deny to see others pain
Only in the war you can clearly see the simple truths of the world,
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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For my sisters
The women I call sisters
Are always there
The women I call sisters
Will always care
The women I call sisters
Can make me smile when times are blue
The women I call sisters
Are always very true.
The women I call sisters
By choice, are my best of friends
The women I call sisters
Will be there with me till the world ends
The women I call sisters
Are blessings from God above
The women I call sisters
Are sisters that I'll always love.
poem by Trinette Naidoo
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‘In the wave-strike over unquiet stones’
In the wave-strike over unquiet stones
the brightness bursts and bears the rose
and the ring of water contracts to a cluster
to one drop of azure brine that falls.
O magnolia radiance breaking in spume,
magnetic voyager whose death flowers
and returns, eternal, to being and nothingness:
shattered brine, dazzling leap of the ocean.
Merged, you and I, my love, seal the silence
while the sea destroys its continual forms,
collapses its turrets of wildness and whiteness,
because in the weft of those unseen garments
of headlong water, and perpetual sand,
we bear the sole, relentless tenderness.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Look Into My Eye
In love,
I suffered..
My heart
A mound of pain,
Suffering and misery.
Cause,
you never looked into my eyes,
Never touched my brow,
Or told me your mind.
But,
Tied to you,
By a nameless bond,
I cried my silent tears
Streaming down my pale cheeks.
Suffered silently
My lone melancholy.
Hoping..
For the day
You would turn around
Look into my eyes
'windows to my soul'
Or touch my brow
And tell me something
Even if it was like
'go away'.
But...
days followed into days
Many days…
I wanted it to end.
The pain was awful,
The suffering intolerable.
One day...
God walked me..
Into this world of sunshine
All bright and dazzling white.
I suffered no more
My heart was again
An organ,
No longer
A mound of aching melody.
I am free…
As a bird
Out of shackles of chained melancholy
And as I fly
I still cry
For once…
Just once,
If you had,
Looked me into the eye..
poem by Anjali Kakati
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From Dusk To Dusk
The dazzling star
went through me.
I was undemanding
from dusk to dusk
hurting myself, not anybody.
Time to meet my twin,
to set he black on orange.
My guilt, my fear, my foreboding.
Let go off, my sap in the twigs,
fruits were coming down.
Under the guise of innocence
eruptiness entered into non-thought.
One by one snakes unrolled
with black eyes, under the succulent breasts,
the black poison clapping the pink lips.
The dirt was spreading
on the hands of unborn children.
Their eyes searching the seeds.
On dark beads of mother.
Father had been killed in a cave.
poem by Satish Verma
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