Unexpressed
DEEP in my heart that aches with the repression,
And strives with plenitude of bitter pain,
There lives a thought that clamors for expression,
And spends its undelivered force in vain.
What boots it that some other may have thought it?
The right of thoughts' expression is divine;
The price of pain I pay for it has bought it,
I care not who lays claim to it — 't is mine!
And yet not mine until it be delivered;
The manner of its birth shall prove the test.
Alas, alas, my rock of pride is shivered —
I beat my brow — the thought still unexpressed.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Related quotes
No longer alone
Pain
Pain, parents not careing
Pain, the lost of hope
within this pain i was alone
i never thought someone esle with pain
i never thought they could help
their pain is different
than mine
I still have this pain
but now people know
they know what i feel like
i can talk to people about it
pain like a sting of a bee
but i have hope in my heart
i just want to say thank you to these people... they know who they are
Pain - II
If we couldn't be partners in pleasure,
Let us be partners in pain.
Let's stop pleasing each other,
And become a source of
Perpetual pain...
For in this loss of
Our mutual pleasure,
None of us have anything to gain.
We went in search of sanity
In a complaisant relationship
But now our animosity
Is driving us Insane.
We thought that the Sun
Would always shine -
Whatever be the weather,
We'll wait for the sunshine.
But now it seems,
After all these years,
The sunny side of our relationship
Has been overshadowed
By the clouds, the rain, the storm
And the hurricane -
Of immense pain.
We thought this relationship
Is a blessing from God
But we realized too late
That it's a curse on us,
Our life's evil bane.
And now, there is no need to feign
Trying to be happy and gay -
When we know of the deep pain
Engulfing us, deep down below -
Alas! We tried too much, too long,
Yet our time and efforts
All went in vain.
And what now remains in us -
Is not even a dropp of pleasure
Yet plentiful of rain -
The raining pain.
And we are drowning...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Thought
Thought
You would be hanging
On the tree
For me to see you :)
Thought
You would be floating
In the sky
For me to see you
Thought
You would be swimming
In the sea
For me to see you
Thought
You would be climbing
Up the wall
For me to see you :)
Alas! You are not
A monkey ;)
Nor Superman ;)
Nor a deep sea diver
Neither Spiderman.
I imagine you
Doing all such
Antics before me!
As you hang in my
Mind and heart
Like a thought
Doing acrobatic
Jamboree!
Surges within me
So many
Oceanic feelings
I find it hard to stop
The tears and thirst
To smile with thee :)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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O Girl
Aaah
O girl, you look sad
Burnt out and half gone mad
Still filling up the place
With tears on your face
Freaked out and scared to move
You don't wanna have to prove
That you're among the same
Pining away
O girl, I thought you were cool
Until you tried not to get hurt
But now I see in your eyes
The pain that can't be just mine
You're like me
O girl, you're trembling
??? ...and stumbling
That you're among the same
Please go away
O girl, I thought you were cool
Until you tried not to get hurt
But now I see in your eyes
The pain that can't be just mine
You're like me
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brephos
Although it is easy for one to think, it is not always easy for one to write
Not all thoughts can be expressed into words, nor should they. Rousseau said in his solitary walks or was it his confessions? That his most beautiful thoughts died in him as quick as he thought them and how he at the time wished he had a pen in hand to write them all down. Those thoughts are dead, but perhaps those same thoughts are born in others written down somewhere in all of infinite time. Some thoughts like some lives are not meant to be born. The seed of this thought, watered by my serene tears, germinates in my soul as I write this letter. Still I can't find the words to express its beauty, its paradox, its mystery. The seed germinates but no plant is born, no flower blooms. For every child that isn't born, for every thought trapped in the moral order nature's thought; the ineffable, the unborn, the unknown, I hope one day you find expression and tell the world what you are and what beauty really is—To eloquence that never speaks, to thought that never thinks, to life that never lives, in my heart you speak, think and live.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Boots
I found a pair of boots upon the street
So I took them home to wear on my feet
I washed them I cleaned them and I aired them out
So I could put them all later when I would walk about.
I put my new boots on, and I walked down the road
They seemed so very sturdy to carry my heavy load
Then they took me places where I have never been
I could tell that these boots were very well broken in.
They felt so very soft and comfortable upon my feet
How excited I was for my new boots others would see.
And when I did my walk many persons just stared
As they looked at my new boots but I really never cared.
Maybe they too just wanted boots just like mine
But this one thing I knew they were hard for me to find.
I had so much fun with my brand new pair of boots
We walked everywhere they placed me in a happy mood
And the longer that I walked still no pain did I feel
I was excited and content my life became so surreal.
So it started to get late so I decided to walk home
So that's were we head just me and my boots alone
And then when I took them off I placed them beside my bed
So I could be ready for my next journey or adventure ahead.
I wore those boots of mine for many, many years
They always felt so comfortable never brought me any tears
I would wash them and clean them and polish them too
Now they were always mine and they always looked brand new.
Then one day I wore another pair of shoes when I went out
I left my old boots home alone so they could air out
So myself and my new shows were gone most of the day
As I had errands to run and also many bills to pay.
But sadly when I got home I was taken by surprise
My boots were stolen and that brought tears to my eyes
I thought to myself who would steal those old boots of mine
Boots that have been worn and used who would commit that crime.
So I went out and bought so many different pairs of shoes
And none are that old as they are all seemingly brand new
I still go for my walks and I still go to town and all about
My feet are so much happier now I myself with joy wanna shout
But every now and then I think about those boots I once wore
The ones I found on the street and I never bought in the store
I wonder now if they are ragged and torn and beyond repair
But that's someone else problem now, so why would I care.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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(Better) Done Than Said
(better) done than said
the sounds between the lines
of the words i speak
reminds me of the lines
i spoke in thought and trials
and the lines
within the sounds of spoken word
touched mine heart
mine dreadlocks started skanking in joy
of the music in mine thought
but til done, i thought
next to mine were time and rhythm
for less than never it were missing
the sense to do than say
and mine legs kept me in transit
mine hands touched to pick a way
whence my eyes long seen
besides, talk were amass
done; far less
than which that caught mine
til done, i do and did
done than said
the inner mine person done me
a thought to catch mine power
and grab to proceed a synergy of our
own belief to mine self and stronger
than the sounds behind the lines
of the words i speak
but from the deep lines
of the metaphor, line by talk
with mine hands holding that thought
to keep it moving and done
long before said, as done
opn01112012/0849
poem: (better) done than said
'roots of mine tree' book no.12 of 2012
november 2012
ntema's unique poetry
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Grown And Flown
I loved my love from green of Spring
Until sere Autumn's fall;
But now that leaves are withering
How should one love at all?
One heart's too small
For hunger, cold, love, everything.
I loved my love on sunny days
Until late Summer's wane;
But now that frost begins to glaze
How should one love again ?
Nay, love and pain
Walk wide apart in diverse ways.
I loved my love - alas to see
That this should be, alas!
I thought that this could scarcely be,
Yet has it come to pass:
Sweet sweet love was,
Now bitter bitter grown to me.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Life For Rent
I haven't ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologize that once again I'm not in love
But it's not as if I mind
that your heart ain't exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
I've always thought
that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone
and live more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
As there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try
Well how can I say I'm alive
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine
Coz nothing I have is truly mine,
Coz nothing I have is truly mine,
Coz nothing I have is truly mine.
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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x21-Escape
-Jane Spencers
Why still cry? I chose to die,
I should have smiles tonight.
This place is none for bitter lies,
I thought i chose what's right.
I thought that death is an escape
from pain and all my fears.
I thought that death is all but peace,
but here, peace never cares.
I thought that pain would die with me,
that tears have no place here.
But pain endures...and tears endure;
eternal may they be?
I dreamed, i thought...i always thought
that death could set me free.
I wish I could just die again,
or lose my memory.
Are souls eternal? Is this my fate?
I hunger so for life.
Am I forever bound by death?
I thought it's my escape.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Tried To Shower Away This Pain
I try to shower away this pain
But it comes right back to me
Hits me as I'm through
Then I'm filled with pain all over again
Sighing cause I have nothing to be happy about
Thought I could shower away this pain
But my thoughts just got washed down the drain
Now I realize I'm forced to stick with this pain for life
Wanting the pain to just go away
But I know that will never happen
Stuck here all alone
Wishing that someone would just kill this pain
Take it away from me for good
Cause I've tried everything to rid this pain and misery
And nothing works
Thought I could just shower this pain away
But that didn't even work
Thought I could drown out the pain
But now I'm stuck here writing away this pain
Hoping that it will relieve a part of this misery
Cause its hard for me not to want to die
Showering this pain didn't work
It stuck back to me like a magnet
I really don't want to die
But this pain is forcing me otherwise
January 1,2008
made up (kinda)
poem by Espn Chick
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Pain In Pleasure
A THOUGHT ay like a flower upon mine heart,
And drew around it other thoughts like bees
For multitude and thirst of sweetnesses;
Whereat rejoicing, I desired the art
Of the Greek whistler, who to wharf and mart
Could lure those insect swarms from orange-trees
That I might hive with me such thoughts and please
My soul so, always. foolish counterpart
Of a weak man's vain wishes ! While I spoke,
The thought I called a flower grew nettle-rough
The thoughts, called bees, stung me to festering:
Oh, entertain (cried Reason as she woke)
Your best and gladdest thoughts but long enough,
And they will all prove sad enough to sting !
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Lady Hertford to Lord William Hamilton
Dear Colin, prevent my warm blushes,
Since how can I speak without pain?
My eyes oft have told you my wishes,
Why don't you their meaning explain?
My passion will lose by expression,
And you may too cruelly blame;
Then do not expect a confession
Of what is too tender to name.
Since yours is the province of speaking,
How can you then hope it from me?
Our wishes should be in our keeping,
'Till yours tell us what they should be.
Alas! then, why don't you discover?
DId your heart feel such torments as mine,
Eyes need not tell over and over,
What I in my breast would confine.
poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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The Mock Self
Few friends are mine, though many wights there be
Who, meeting oft a phantasm that makes claim
To be myself, and hath my face and name,
And whose thin fraud I wink at privily,
Account this light impostor very me.
What boots it undeceive them, and proclaim
Myself myself, and whelm this cheat with shame?
I care not, so he leave my true self free,
Impose not on me also; but alas!
I too, at fault, bewildered, sometimes take
Him for myself, and far from mine own sight,
Torpid, indifferent, doth mine own self pass;
And yet anon leaps suddenly awake,
And spurns the gibbering mime into the night.
poem by William Watson
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No More
Hate to be alone.
But I have to move one,
To be able to let go.
I'm sorry to say goodbye.
I thought you were mine,
Turns out you were just a thought.
You weren't mine,
You weren't even yours.
A sweet memory,
Stuck in the past.
Not moving forward,
Sad to say its over.
Let out a single tear,
My heart broke.
No change,
only devistation.
Everything I love,
Has gone now.
Your not the same,
You never were.
Let me go,
Don't hold me here.
Only pain,
Is destioned to come.
The one I came to call mine,
No longer can I call.
Its time to part,
Its time to go.
GOODBYE.
poem by Mariah Simpson
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Sonnet XV: If That a Loyal Heart
If that a loyal heart and faith unfeign'd,
If a sweet languish with a chaste desire,
If hunger-starven thought so long retain'd,
Fed but with smoke, and cherished but with fire,
And if a brow with care's characters painted
Bewrays my love, with broken words half spoken
To her that sits in my thought's temple sainted,
And lays to view my vulture-gnawn heart open,
If I have done due homage to her eyes,
And had my sighs still tending on her name,
If on her love my life and honor lies,
And she th'unkindest maid still scorns the same,
Let this suffice: the world yet may see
The fault is hers, though mine the hurt must be.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Sorrow Plays Through Me
An instrument of sorrow
Sorrow doth strum
The strings of my soul
And beat mine heart her drum
Sorrow weeps through me
And in me she seek
Love, enchantment and expression
So mine eyes leek
Thine tears, thou tears, mine tears
To water the joyous earth
With the sorrow of truth
And to new sorrow give birth
Sorrow, sweet, melancholic
Which adorn mine face with rain falls
Of power, of strength, filled with beauty
Surpassing human walls.
Pouring out of me,
For mine eyes to see
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Corn Grinders
O little mouse, why dost thou cry
While merry stars laugh in the sky?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will ease my bitter pain?
He went to seek a millet-grain
In the rich farmer's granary shed;
They caught him in a baited snare,
And slew my lover unaware:
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
O little deer, why dost thou moan,
Hid in thy forest-bower alone?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah! who will quiet my lament?
At fall of eventide he went
To drink beside the river-head;
A waiting hunter threw his dart,
And struck my lover through the heart.
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
O little bride, why dost thou weep
With all the happy world asleep?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will stay these hungry tears,
Or still the want of famished years,
And crown with love my marriage-bed?
My soul burns with the quenchless fire
That lit my lover's funeral pyre:
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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On a picture (II)
Why bends she o'er that glittering toy
With such an earnest gaze,
As if those flashing jewels cast
Love glances in their rays?
By that high, thought-enthronéd brow --
That deep and soul-lit eye,
I know 'tis not the passing dream
Of woman's vanity.
I know that in its golden links
Some talisman is set,
And for the heart it rests upon,
'Tis Love's own amulet.
Oh, may that heart, so joyous now,
No heavier burden bear;
The beauty of that noble brow,
No deeper shadow wear.
Alas! how vain the wish, for souls
That wildest rapture know,
Must vibrate with a keener pang,
To every note of woe.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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This Car Of Mine
This car of mine
A-win I got (bought) her now she wasnt new
Old and broke down
This car of mine
Theres been a lot of races we been through
No slow poke now
I never want to part with her you see
This little car means a heck of a lot to me
(this car of mine, oooooo)
I remember the day
A-when I chose her over all those old broken junkers
Thought I could tell
Underneath a coat of rust she was gold
No clunker
Just couldnt wait to take her home with me
And fix her up just as new as she could be
(this car of mine, this car of mine, this car of mine, this car of mine,
Oooooo)
Aint no amount of gold any mine
Would be enough to take away this car of mine
(this car of mine, dit til lee hup hup)
This car of mine
(dit til lee hup hup dit til lee hup hup)
Oh his car of mine
(dit til lee hup hup dit til lee hup hup)
Shes so so fine now
(dit til lee hup hup dit til lee hup hup)
This car, this car so fine now
(dit til lee hup hup dit til lee hup hup)
Mmm shes so fine...
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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