Dolour Of The Human
Dolour of youth heartaches the world,
With so much flesh and bones that crack.
My mount especially found the raise
Of youth, the significant blush, and one to reclaim.
The dolour of the intermediate stage
Of human suffering and age created a coup d’etat,
To shorten the phrase, a blameworthy man is not woman,
Sudden plucking of feathers are for the birds, not words.
Dolour of old age make homo sapiens a master race,
As bold as nature itself, then this dolour of youth is final.
To improve one’s land is like the garden for the gardener,
And dolour of human strength resides in all ages.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A proud heart in a poor breast, has meikle dolour to dree.
Primavera in the North
She has danced for leagues and leagues,
Over thorns and thistles,
Prancing to a tune of Griegg's
Performed on willow whistles.
Antelopes behold her, dazed,
Velvet-eyed, and furry;
Polar flowers, crackle-glazed,
Snap beneath her hurry.
In a wig of copper wire,
A gown of scalloped gauzes,
She capers like a flame of fire
Over Arctic mosses.
All her tears have turned to birds,
All her thoughts of dolour
Paint the snow with scarlet words
And traceries of colour.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Like A Lotus
My eyes haven’t become glass balls
They well; when they see dolour
Of deprived churls; blood curdles
Somewhere deep from the entrails
Bursts out aloud, a painful shrill
People sneer; call me a fool
“This world you can never overhaul
Reconcile! Mingle with evil
Learn the art of survival”
These are morals from grass blades
With winds in tune they waggle
But I wish I live like lotus
Born and dwell in filthy pool
I still fight the surrounding foul
poem by Sathya Narayana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Despair Is A Mad Man
Your thoughts are not too heavy for your heart
It is only foolery that makes it seem so
You think till you are hot
And then say you are sick
You cry in shameless misery
And lament your fate
Why me becomes a ballad
And you call the tune till tears drop
Despair is a mad man
Yet you befriend him
He goes causing a nuisance
But you seek him
Insanity has no friend they say
Still you go near to become mad as well
You go looking long and hard for gloom
If you are not mad, then you must be a fool
You do not pray
Nor invoke celestial beings
You do not sing
Nor chase dolour from your soul
You do not play
Nor fill your mind with gaiety
All you do is drone and cry
For all that has been
That should not
You make despair a nagging companion
And gain nothing by the business.
poem by Samuel Nze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cup Of Darkness
You refuse to grow in a grim challenge.
Already the witch-hunt has started.
It was strange to step outside your body
and don’t look at the death
on your doorstep.
Softly flows the dolour in God’s shining eyes.
I have run out my thoughts
my brain wave.
shame to be still breathing.
Starving, I eat the howls
and drink the limbs.
Nowhere green inks writes the passion
A procession of pain
starts in ecstasy.
Your extinct past has entered my body
It shakes and brings tremors
Give me a cup of darkness
I am going to burn my bridges.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Youth Youth Youth
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Don't wanna spend my life saving up for things
Don't wanna have what a steady job brings
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Don't wanna stay at home not making any noise
I've always got to be out
I've always got to have a choice
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Age considers, youth ventures
Age considers, youth ventures
Age visualizes, youth dreams
Age makes theories, youth experiments
Age loves, youth longs
Age sees people, youth sees places
Age knows belongings, youth discovers them
Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain
Age has heart, youth has mind
Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful
Age ponders, youth wonders
Age recounts, youth counts
Age is experienced, youth is in experience
Age is cautious, youth dashes
Age floats, youth swims
Age lives, youth still making a living
Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination
Age is confident, youth is competent
Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living
Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future
Age is grown, youth is crown
Ageless is youth, youthless is age
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green Park Snowmen Gone
Green Park is green again; the snow has thawed,
Except for scattered stumps of snowmen now
As dolour drips from every branch and bough
And foggy drizzle usurps flakes that poured
This fortnight past to garnish grass with white,
A rare event for Central London, since
This milder climate, here to stay, gives hints
That snow will be a much-elusive sight
So though we grouse that traffic was delayed
By slush as cars slipped on un-gritted roads
And made us take a “Snow-day” off, we know
These lonesome snowmen proudly on parade
Might be the last if global warming bodes
A warning of the end for winter's snow.
poem by C. Richard Miles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let's Get Rid of the Human Race! !
Let's get rid of the Human Race!
The world would be a better place
Without it, devoid of any trace
Of the so-called 'Homo Sapiens' disgrace,
It's done a lot of harm, let's face
It! Let's get rid of people now!
I'd like to take a holy vow
To liberate the Earth at last
And make Mankind a thing of the past!
If only Nature could be free,
Unspoilt by either you or me,
Each bird, each mammal, and each tree
Unsullied by machinery.
No global warming and pollution
Changing the course of evolution,
No oil-spills to defile the sea,
That's right! No nuclear energy!
I'd like disease to win the day
And sweep the Human Race away.
Before the rivers all run dry
The Scientific Ape must die! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Madrigal
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sports,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Planh For The Young English King
If all the grief and woe and bitterness,
All dolour, ill and every evil chance
That ever came upon this grieving world
Were set together they would seem but light
Against the death of the young English King.
Worth lieth riven and Youth dolorous,
The world overshadowed, soiled and overcast,
Void of all joy and full of ire and sadness.
Grieving and sad and full of bitterness
Are left in teen the liegemen courteous,
The joglars supple and the troubadours.
O'er much hath ta'en Sir Death that deadly warrior
In taking from them the young English King,
Who made the freest hand seem covetous.
'Las! Never was nor will be in this world
The balance for this loss in ire and sadness!
O skilful Death and full of bitterness,
Well mayst thou boast that thou the best chevalier
That any folk e'er had, hast from us taken;
Sith nothing is that unto worth pertaineth
But had its life in the young English King
And better were it, should God grant his pleasure,
That he should live than many a living dastard
That doth but wound the good with ire and sadness.
From this faint world, how full of bitterness
Love takes his way and holds his joy deceitful
Sith no thing is but turneth unto anguish
And each to-day Vails less than yestere'en,
Let each man visage this young English King
That was most valiant 'mid all worthiest men!
Gone is his body fine and amorous,
Whence have we grief, discord and deepest sadness.
Him, whom it pleased for our great bitterness
To come to earth to draw us from misventure,
Who drank of death for our salvacioun,
Him do we pray as to a Lord most righteous
And humble eke, that the young English King
He please to pardon, as true pardon is,
And bid go in with honoured companions
There where there is no grief, nor shall be sadness.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In a Herber Green Asleep Whereas I Lay
In a herber green asleep whereas I lay,
The birds sang sweet in the middle of the day;
I dreamed fast of mirth and play:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Methought I walked still to and fro,
And from her company I could not go;
But when I wak'd it was not so:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Therefore my heart is surely pight
Of her alone to have a sight,
Which is my joy and heart's delight:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
poem by Robert Wever
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Youth
Mood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Eagle-like must seek the blue,
Dauntlessly its course pursue,
All the mountain-heights must view.
Blood of youth,
Blood of youth,
Steam-like puts full-speed to sea,
E'en though storm and ice there be,
Makes its way and romps in glee.
Dream of youth,
Dream of youth,
Rogue-like stealing sets its snare
In the maiden's morning-prayer;
All the springtime, fragrant, glowing,
In its airy waves is flowing.
Joy of youth,
Joy of youth,
Waterfall-like foams in truth,
Laughing, rainbow-gifts forth flashing,
Even while to death 't is dashing.
Joy of youth,
Dream of youth,
Blood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Clothe the world with colors golden,
Singing songs that never olden.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Australia Vindex
Who cometh from fields of the south
With raiment of weeping and woe,
And a cry of the heart in her mouth,
And a step that is muffled and slow?
Her paths are the paths of the sun;
Her house is a beautiful light;
But she boweth her head, and is one
With the daughters of dolour and night.
She is fairer than flowers of love;
She is fiercer than wind-driven flame;
And God from His thunders above
Hath smitten the soul of her shame.
She saith to the bloody one curst
With the fever of evil, she saith
“My sorrow shall strangle thee first
With an agony wilder than death!
“My sorrow shall hack at thy life!
Thou shalt wrestle with wraiths of thy sin,
And sleep on a pillow of strife
With demons without and within!”
She whispers, “He came to the land
A lord and a lover of me—
A son of the waves with a hand
As fearless and frank as the sea.
“On the shores of the stranger he stood
With the sweetness of youth on his face;
Till there started a fiend from the wood,
Who stabbed at the peace of the place!
“Because of the dastardly thing
Thou hast done in the sight of the day,
All horrors that sicken and sting
Shall make thee for ever their prey.
“Because of the beautiful trust
Destroyed by a devil like thee,
Thy bed shall be low in the dust
And my heel as a shackle shall be!
“Because” (and she mutters it deep
Who curseth the coward in chains)
“Thou hast stricken and murdered our sleep,
Thy sleep shall be perished with pains;
“Thy sleep shall be broken and sharp
And filled with fierce spasms and dreams,
And shadow shall haunt thee and harp
On hellish and horrible themes!
“I will set my right hand on thy neck
And my foot on thy body, nor bate,
Till thy name shall become as a wreck
And a byword for hisses and hate!”
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As I’ve no hope of returning ever
As I’ve no hope of returning ever,
Little ballad, lightly, softly,
Go yourself, to Tuscany,
Go straight to my lady,
Who of her great courtesy
Will show you highest honour.
You will bring her news of sighs,
Filled with pain, and great with fear:
But take care to meet no eyes
Hostile to a gentle nature:
My disadvantage then for sure
You’d work, like one opposed,
And be by her reproved,
And so prove pain for me:
So that after my death there’d be,
Weeping and fresh dolour.
Little ballad, you know that death
Grips me so that life deserts me,
Know how my heart with every breath
Beats hard, as the spirits speak inside me.
So much of my Being’s now undone,
I can scarcely suffer longer:
So if you would serve me further,
Take my soul along with you,
Fervently I beg of you,
As it leaps from out my heart, here.
O, little ballad, now I yield
This trembling soul to your friendship,
In its sorrow, take it with you,
To the sweet one to whom I send it.
Oh, little ballad, sighing say
To her, when you’re presented:
‘Your servant comes
To be with you,
He leaves one,
Who was Love’s servant’
You, little weak and fearful voice
Issuing from the sad heart weeping,
Go with my soul, and this little song,
And tell her of my mind that’s ruined.
You’ll find a tender woman there,
Of an intellect so sweet,
That it will be delight complete
For you to leave her never.
And then, my soul, adore her,
Worthy as she is, for ever.
poem by Guido Cavalcanti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poem to Honor St. Valentine
If youth could age's wisdom ken,
& age could know youth's fire again
or age could Old Time's hands turn back
T'would then be youth with time to spend
& wisdom's strengths on which to depend.
This said, t'is never just white or black
For youth doth all discretion lack
& age tho' willing & desirous to play
To youth's vitality must passion give way
& such a conflict therein lies
for age is by youth most oft despised
& youth by age oft seen to whine,
“please, won't you be my valentine?”
poem by Hugh Cobb (12 February 2006)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Time
I am Time
now let me tell
you the greatest
secret of all
i am the most
abused of all
by homo sapiens
i am eternally
chopped into
the tiniest of seconds,
minutes,
hours, days, years
to suit homo sapiens'
whims and fancies
they pigeonhole me
consign me
onto the wall
fingers and
legs bound
to walk round
round and round
to keep this human
fetish with their anatomy alive
but then i know
in the end i would
emerge the winner
released from human's tyranny
the fingers they
consign to me
pointing out to them
their greatest of fears death
while i continue to live
they would be worms,
dust and bones
i am Time
now let me tell you
one secret that
keeps me alive
above all
I am just Timeless
the thing you see
on the clock
on your wrist
are human illusions
of their own
transient existence
i am time
you cannot see me
you cannot touch me
you cannot hear me
you can only hear
yourself roaring
through me
and you are the real
clock chained onto me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Childhood: the period of human life intermediate between the idiocy of infancy and the folly of youth - two removes from the sin of manhood and three from the remorse of age.
quote by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Duty Done - 1933
A duty done ... What else was there to do?
A simple matter; and as simply solved.
His straight young mind worked straightly - worked as true
As ever youth's clean mind. Here no involved
And weighty pondering of faith or fact.
Duty demanded; and he leapt to act.
He leapt and died . . . Could he but tell it now,
There would, be sure, come no heroic tale.
'What else would any man do, any how?'
This thing cried to be done. How could he fail?
The cry; the danger; Duty's sudden call;
Then - well, a bit of bad luck. That was all.
They say that youth grows cynical: too prone
To weigh advantage; thro' some modern plan
Changed from the clear-eyed youth old days had known:
More of a crafty huckster, less a man.
They say - and they are answered by one youth,
Proving again one wholesome human truth.
A duty done; and valiantly done.
Tho' death came in the doing, yet, who knows
At what wise ordering? No living one
May say how kind death be to such as those
Youth, unjustified, triumphing on his way,
Quiet hero of this world of work-a-day.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!