No More Tears to Shed!
On her sombre face,
tears were not dripping down.
But her sad words and tales
made us shed tears.
Neither she solicits money
nor borrows even a tiny.
She had got two brave sons
but either of the two doesn't live.
For giving solace
her husband is also no more.
What of her boys died
was what that killed her man too.
If they were dead
fighting on the borders,
she would be walking erect
in the midst of her kin.
But all of them laid on the fields
where they ploughed and dug.
Only one snake has wiped out
her warriors one by one
in a span of three years.
Whom to feed, she must grow
crops in that sinful land?
But she clears weeds daily.
All the three were buried
in that tears-stained land
From dawn to dusk she is there
clearing weeds and lying beside
the idols, murmuring, 'There is no God'.
The sea has drawn the waters inward.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Tears Of Blood
On every battlefield,
the ground is stained with tears of blood.
The cruelty of war holds no bounds.
Men and boys fight together
and against each other.
Theirs deaths are just numbers
on someone’s statistics chart.
Their names are quickly forgotten
except by their loved ones.
Their bodies rot where they fell
in the no man’s land on a battlefield.
No one can make sense of the useless slaughter
by a faceless enemy across the invisible lines.
Lines drawn in the lunacy of a moment
for which hundreds will die for.
The tears of blood will fall like raindrops
from machinegun fire,
and so the crazy war goes on.
Each side losing brave men
to save some politicians face.
There is no glory in death
and wasting tears of blood on some foreign land,
just a waste of good lives.
When will it ever end?
22-23 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Sands Of Time
From the beginning of this own world,
man has shed a million tears.
Tears for the pain they've had
in their lives and for all the
wasted years.
But the saddest tears that
ever fell, fell not from
just any man's eyes. But
they were shed by my Savior
and they stained The Sands Of Time.
And as the Father looked upon His
Son, He had to turn His face away.
And as Jesus hung upon that cross,
He gave His all for us that day.
And as the tears ran down His face,
as He cried, mixed with the blood
that flowed from His side. Oh what
a sacrifice of love and it stained
The Sands Of Time.
Oh yes it stained The Sands Of Time.
It stained The Sands Of Time.
The blood that was shed for a lost
and dying world, oh yes it stained
The Sands Of Time, of time.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Garden
CHOKED with ill weeds my garden lay a-dying,
Hard was the ground, no bud had heart to blow,
Yet shone your smile there, with your soft breath sighing:
'Have patience, for some day the flowers will grow.'
Some weeds you killed, you made a plot and tilled it;
'My plot,' you said, 'rich harvest yet shall give,'
With sun-warmed seeds of hope your dear hands filled it,
With rain-soft tears of pity bade them live.
So, weak among the weeds that had withstood you,
One little pure white flower grew by-and-by;
You could not pluck my flower--alas! how should you?
You sowed the seed, but let the blossom die.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Avalanche-the White Death
The land is white
The name of the land brings you
to the land of nothing
The name is white
The white is dead
Sun shines pale, the land shades full of pain
Avalea doesn't bloom and fall in this drain
I'm going back alive again
But no one's crying for the dead
The land is still white
Ice and snow are still the same as yesterday
But the wind is stronger in the sorrow
The land is white
The white is dead
They weep wherever they blow
Forever love, cursed land
Forever goodbye, my lovely land
No more tears falling in this land
Even the sand doesn't know
why he doesn't round to anywhere
The land has frozen like stone
The air is blowed dead
The land is white
The name is white
The land called white is dead
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Inner Tears
Tears in my heart,
What can i say?
Tears in my heart,
What can i do?
I cannot cry outwardly for,
I always have my tears within me.
A cry on Mount Ephraim,
The watchman cried aloud too;
Build houses and live in them like,
The sea of yazer.
The lover i saw wasn't the one i met,
My tears are always within me;
I am searching and waiting for you to come,
Like the war heard in Rabbah.
I do cry within myself,
The lover i met wasn't the one i saw;
My inner tears are always with me.
A loaf of bread daily,
The aboundance of wine and fruits;
The lover i saw wasn't the one i met.
My inner tears are always within me,
So give your daughters in for husbands;
Of a royal descent to cry for my lover,
So give your sons in for wives;
When wii my tears be seen on my face?
I do have tears in my heart but,
Always with a smile on;
Who can understand this when,
The roses are all dead without water?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Why The Tears I Shed?
Why the tears I shed?
Hunger is around,
I'm well fed.
Why the tears I shed?
The fire has gone out,
Warm is my bed.
Why the tears I shed?
Love is without sense,
On me lies her head.
Why the tears I shed?
The living is on alms,
Aplenty is my bread.
Why the tears I shed?
Life seeks mercy,
More blessed is the dead.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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And The Heavens Cried(Trail of Tears)
You could see the clouds
rolling across the sky
as the day started to rain
teardrops of blood across the land
lost in their visions of doubt
buried in their pain
white man had all the say
we were left to taciturn
as we watched everything burn
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
On some beaten shore
we watched the ships come in
one by one, our land wore thin
we could just watch with closed eyes
as the promises made were just lies
they said you don't belong here anymore
behind their mask, they wore a disguise
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
Blood spilled on our sacred ground
leaving a unwanted stain
where mighty warriors once made a stand
we never could walk hand in hand
when they lived by so much greed
we watched our people fall
thousands must bleed
still all we could do is try
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
Guided by the spirit wind
we held on to our pride
something they could'nt take away
as so many died
through our darkest years
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Years of Tears
Years of tears for no ears to hear, lonely for years am I
Years of tears for no ears to hear in silence they dropp and die
Years of tears, hidden deep, I cannot weep, nor cry.
Years of tears, for many fears of dying alone, I sigh.
Years of tears which no one hears as many years go by.
Years of tears in the lonely sky, my tears grow wings and fly.
Years of tears, my smile shines, through its little lines, I lie.
Years of tears, my somber peers through my melancholy eye
Tears of tears, Years of Years, in my soul, I tie.
Years of tears for no ears to hear my tears weep goodbye….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990
A Working Man
I am a working man
up from dawn to dusk.
I till the fields to keep my family fed.
The soil is not my right,
but a gift to me.
If I handle it with care,
crops every year it rewards me.
I am a working man
and when my day is done,
the warmth of my family
fills the place I call home.
Every morning I see
the wonders of the rising sun
and as night approaches,
I watch the moon come up.
My life is sometimes hard,
but I know satisfaction of a job well done.
It is our daily bread,
where our money comes from.
God blessed me with this land
and I look after it for him.
For I am a working man
up from dawn to dusk.
26 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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Orphaned Land - The Storm Still Rages Inside
The rain keeps on falling
Filling the dried land
It drinks the purity of life
(The) land starts to grow
It must be a sign
A message from God's hand
Like tears from the sky
Water begins its flow
Left alone, deserted so long ago
The storm still rages inside
Before the dawn rises I cannot see the light
This land's ground grows weak
Shall we find the path ?
The preacher's words were right
I can't see anyway to (the outer world)
Tears do flow, yet can't conceal
This land is barren, it does not feel
Our self-made slaughter
By our own hands
Here lies the orphaned land...
Suddenly lightning strikes the earth
It marks the sign of my rebirth
Seeds of love from myself evolve
This cannot be living - without (your) safety
The storm still rages inside...
Invisible rays penetrate the ground
This land to die is surely bound
Suffer but doesn't scream
Can this be a hopeless dream ?
song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Conclusion Can Be Laid
A long time ago
in a land far away
lived a young boy
whom in his tomorrows
many tears he would cry.
In his heart, he wished to fly,
soar near the heavens
where the eagles gather.
His talent was criticized
and rebuked by his family
and even some of his friends joined in.
In the shadows of his world
each night where no one could see
he shed his tears in private
deep in the loneliness he felt.
Many years have passed
and his friends have become fewer.
Age stripped away his youth,
but his talent remained.
In that, there were no borders
or obstacles to cross.
He kept his talent to himself.
Why share it with an angry world
whose only contentment
was to put him down.
Then one day came a chance,
he took it reluctantly
fearing all the criticism he might receive
and the tears he might once again cry.
However it was a surprise to him
when someone, a stranger
recognised the talent he had.
Instead of criticism, he received praise.
Soon the tears of sadness
were replaced with tears of joy.
That boy, a man now
much older and much wiser
shares his wisdom with everyone
whom from its glass cares to drink.
There is no ending to this story
no conclusion can be laid.
Only in the future
and by a higher power
will that decision be made.
8 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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Shaday
SHADAY AMOR NO DA'AY...
As I look back on yesteryear
A picture's coming clear
I see my father work the fields
My mother holds me near
I travelled far but now I'm here
To sing for you my tears
The yellow moon shines in my eyes
And watches while I cry
Oh, Oh EL-SHADAY
Oh, Oh EL-SHADAY
Tell me who am I
Tell me who am I
Oh, EL-SHADAY
Many years and tears ago
My people were scattered
Taking with them broken souls
From homes, where time once mattered
My lovely Land, my lonely Land
Alone two thousand years
And now returned our Holy Land
But fields are filled with tears
YAH RUHI YAH YUMA
RAWINI FAIN BAYTIK
ANA MADLUMA YAH YUMA
B'YEAD B'YEAD MINIK
YAH YUMA
song performed by by Ofra Haza
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suicidal Tears
Invisible tears roll down my face, and hit the pillows on my bed,
No one sees the tears I cry, or the invisible blood I've bled,
Just because I don't ask, doesn't mean I don't need help, I do,
Help, to stop my sorrow, attempt suicide, and the cutting too,
Every droplet of water, that I cry, to you they are unseen,
You see everyone around me, but I remain your invisible teen,
I cry not tears of happiness, but instead tears of the dead,
I bleed to escape the suicide, thoughts inside my head,
I won't put up my hand, to wipe away all the tears,
Instead, I'll stare you in the face, like I've done all of these years,
You pay me no attention, but your attention is what I need,
Or I'll turn back to suicide, off your absence is what I feed,
Your absence has taken control of me, as theses suicidal tears I cry,
So please stop me from suicide, or I might just have to die,
poem by Niakeva Thomas
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After the Tears
I have shed all my tears, and I have dried my cheeks.
Now, after all tears you made me cry my heart still longs for you.
After all the tears I have shed my soul still needs you.
After all the tears are gone somehow I still love you.
After all the tears
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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John Mitchel
I.
DEAD, with his harness on him:
Rigid and cold and white,
Marking the place of the vanguard
Still in the ancient fight.
The climber dead on the hill-side,
Before the height is won:
The workman dead on the building,
Before the work is done!
O, for a tongue to utter
The words that should be said—
Of his worth that was silver, living,
That is gold and jasper, dead!
Dead—but the death was fitting:
His life, to the latest breath,
Was poured like wax on the chart of right,
And is sealed by the stamp of Death!
Dead—but the end was fitting:
First in the ranks he led;
And he marks the height of his nation's gain,
As he lies in his harness—dead!
II.
Weep for him, Ireland—mother lonely;
Weep for the son w'ho died for thee.
Wayward he was, but he loved thee only,
Loyal and fearless as son could be.
Weep for him, Ireland—sorrowing nation
Faithful to all who are true to thee:
Never a son in thy desolation
Had holier love for thy cause than he.
Sons of the Old Land, mark the story—
Mother and son in the final test:
Weeping she sits in her darkened glory,
Holding her dead to her stricken breast.
Only the dead on her knees are lying—
Ah, poor mother beneath the cross!
Strength is won by the constant trying,
Crowns are gemmed by the tears of loss!
Sons of the Old Land, mark the story—
Mother and son to each other true:
She called, and he answered, old and hoary,
And gave her his life as a man should do.
She may weep—but for us no weeping:
Tears are vain till the work is done;
Tears for her—but for us the keeping
Our hearts as true as her faithful son.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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No Tears
tears roll down his checks
as he muttered the words “she’s dead”
I would have stopped
stared as if he was a ghost
and I would have thought
god it’s about time
but as I looked around to the people I loved something came over me
mom and dad were crying,
Ethan, Andy, and even john looked sad
here I was with a smile on my face
how dumb could I be not even act like I care
but the truth really is that I don’t give a shit
about if she had died or not
it’s better for us in the long run anyway
make everyone happier
I’m just a kid so what am I supposed to think when someone
that has made my life and my family’s life miserable
what am I suppose to fell when someone has made me hate coming “home”
what am I suppose to do when many of times I have wished her dead
what am I suppose to say to the person that made me believe I live in hell
am I suppose to lie
what would you do
what would you fell
what would you say
what would you think
I almost feel sorry for not feeling bad
but I don’t
I almost feel sorry for Steve
but yet again why should I care when his parents die
when he didn’t care when my dad died
I will admit there were a couple of minutes
where I felt like a bad person for not feeling bad
but it’s not worth my time
enough tears will be shed from her death
why should I need to contribute to the waterfall
a tear runs down my face
yes a tear
one single tear
yet no tears flow from my eyes
of sadness
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Rain Tears
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Melding in torrential fears:
Chill of cloud; saddened eye-
In either way, a latent cry.
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Married under sceptic jeers:
‘They'll never last.' Methinks not true, for
Either way, forever blue.
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Simple love with lacy cares,
Their intercourse will ne'er refrain
From rain and tears and tears and rain.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
rain tears: : rain tears: : rain tears: : rain tears
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: tears: : rain tears: : rain tears: : rain tears: : rain tears
n: : tears: : rain tears: : rain tears: : rain tears: : rain tears
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Psalm 126
The rains that fall from heaven
Fall down upon our face
And the dawn is surely coming
Yet in the darkness we embrace
Perhaps you've never seen the dawn
Yet in your heart you know it's true
That beyond the edge of all you know
There is a sky that's ever blue
To plough the field of perpetual winter
For a harvest never seen before
Is to walk in darkness without stumbling
Is to open up a heavenly door
What lies beyond, no one can see
But through the door there is no fears
This is a place where seeds are found
They are for those who sow in tears
And with these seeds and with our tears
We'll plough the fields until the end
With weeping hearts the tears are watered
And then the harvest God will send
Then all our tears are wiped away
Our hearts are filled with laughter
We now embrace perpetual dawn
And blue skies ever after
poem by Frank McEleny
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