Bergius
i think
Bergius knows life
more than we do
i think
he knows sorrow
much better than
we used to think we know
the way he holds his
cigar
between his fingers
the way he stares aimlessly
at
i do not really know where
his thoughts are
where his gaze is going
where his heart is
all i know is that he is with us
in this
in the
misery of our lives
in this coldness of our times
in this recollection of the pieces
of our shattered
little existences
we, the nobodies,
we, the uncertainties
we, the roots of truth and
the budding lies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Chains Of Misery
Theres a madman in the corner of your eye
He likes to pry - into the sunlight
He wants to burst into the streets with you and i
A world of shadows and of rain
Hes seen what love is...
He wants to pay back with guilt...
He lies to you he wont let you be
Hes got your chains of misery
He wont be still till hes turned your key
He holds your chains of misery
Theres a prophet in the gutter in the street
He say youre damned and you believe him...
Hes got a vision but it shines out through your eyes
A world of hatred and fear...
Hes felt what love means...
He wants to pay you back with pain...
He lies to you he wont let you be
Hes got your chains of misery
He wont be still till hes turned your key
He holds your chains of misery
Its only love that holds the key to our hearts
Its only love...
He lies to you he wont let you be
Hes got your chains of misery
He wont be still till hes turned your key
He holds your chains of misery
He lies to you he wont let you be
Hes got your chains of misery
He wont be still till hes turned your key
He holds your chains of misery
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anguish, pain, misery, sorrow and retribution
Some say life is full of anguish,
old man once sang that life is full of pain
some even preach that life comes fully laced with misery and sorrow,
and some believe that life offers no retribution
ideas clearly instilled in the hearts and souls of many a man,
but the truth of the matter is,
life is anguish,
life is pain,
life is misery and sorrow,
in the same way as rain is water
and water is rain
for where can one get one`s own share of anguish,
who`d we ever have known pain if we never had life
without life, would we live through misery and sorrow
life in itself is retribution,
for he who has life can stand ground against
anguish, pain, misery and sorrow
and live to see brighter days seemingly unscathed
but woo to he who loses his life
in anguish, or pain, or misery , or sorrow
for he will receive no further retribution
and he will depart this earth with nothing but
anguish, pain, misery, sorrow
and retribution lost
poem by Tinashe Severa
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Sorrow Sows The Shattered Heart
Sorrow Sows The Shattered Heart
Sorrow sows the shattered heart
Mourn the last beats chance to start
Scattered to the winds impart
Pity the pieces as love departs
14 April 2008
Glory For Sorrow
sorrow thy seat is on heap of shattered hopes
still you accompany the deserted souls
sorrow you are the truth on passage of time
still you accompany defeated minds
sorrow you have nothing to hold for morrows
still you reveals the hollowness of life
sorrow you holds the secrets of dark
still you awaken the spirit in the dying man
sorrow you when words fail their expression
still you prevail the onslaught of cultures
sorrow you flood the life with tears
still you provide ways to try for happiness
sorrow you make even dull heads philosophers
still you remain elusive to searh or research
poem by Venkatesh Ram
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Fickle Fingers Of Fate
The fickle fingers of fate befalls us
everyday of our lives.
Sometimes it brings us happiness,
other times it brings us misery.
Sometimes it brings us love,
other times it breaks our heart.
The fickle fingers of fate befalls us
in everything we do.
Our actions are governed
by its fickle fingers
day and night
in what we do and say.
Its waywardness leads us
down roads we should not go
or to mountains too high to climb.
It can lead us to valleys
where tranquillity lay
and to lives peaceful.
The fickle fingers of fate
will lead us as it may,
making up decisions right or wrong.
We are its puppet on a string
as the fickle fingers of fate controls
our destiny come what may.
30 August 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Voice Says In My Heart
Dreaming of a life of peace,
Though I am shattered to pieces.
A damaged spirit, resulting from a defective mind.
Broken and irreparable, so I think.
But my thoughts got me here in the first place.
On my knees, looking up, I see the light.
Shining down on me from above.
It connects with the light inside.
The voices in my head silence.
My mind clears, true vision appears.
'Pick up the pieces.', the soft voice whispers from within.
'Many pieces, put together, makes a piece.'
'That is what you seek isn't it? '
'Give them to me, for the pieces are heavy'.
'What I have created, only I can fix.'
'It was broken by you in the first place.'
'Because I was not your first place.'
'I was your last. I was your end.'
'But now you have reached me, '
'Let me show you what I can do.'
'For I come with an eternal warranty and a misery back guarantee.'
Piece by piece, I was put back together.
Until I was one.
Not one with my thoughts, but one with my maker.
No longer listening to what the voices in my head say.
But to what the voice says in my heart.
As it whispers to me, I can feel it's voice.
'Peace.'
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The lies
Crawling into my bed, with innocent eyes,
hunting my fantasies, Why? 'I ask myself'
Why? the lies. The barbarous lies, coming
out of your mouth; I pity myself, but even
more the depths of your soul.That holds a
deep sharp tongue; the lies have spoken
your hazarding thoughts. Shame will hunt
you down, when the Angel's of heaven
manifest their anguish. The lies I believed
in; will speak back to you. And torment you
like a prison sentence, the angels of heaven
will never entwine, with hell and fire. I am the
heaven you are the fire that burns the pure
and holds the wicked.The lies that come from
the heart of evil. The lies will never conquer the
depths of my thoughts, nor the truth of my soul,
the lies will eat you alive, and keep you from
the bliss and joys, becoming like knives through
your tongue. The lies that grow in your twisted
mind.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Shattered Lives
Shattered lives fall
like seeds on the wind,
some on rocky ground
where they wither and die.
Some on soft earth
where they nurture and grow,
while other just float along
on the endless tide
of their own misery.
Shattered lives hit
by some devastating blow,
an encumbering circumstance
far beyond their control.
Like glass, they shatter.
Some never recover,
but look at their loss
as some harbinger of doom.
Backing away from existence
and into an endless gloom.
Others try relentlessly
to move forward,
picking up the pieces
to start over again.
10 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Poetry Inside All Of Us...
it's been there
from the beginning
perhaps even before
you give birth
to your
eyes
it's been there
embedded in the linings of the
heart
it is experience
it is the past
from the past lives
from previous
existences
you are awakened and reawakened
every day
or year
like a morning
you remember the orange color
of your sunsets
the scents of the flowers that
once were with you
mixed in the water of your
many baths
you remember so many hands
that caressed your
hair
it is the light from the sun
that strikes your eyes
that sometimes makes your remember
and then you piece them all
into a pattern of
an understanding
the shattered pieces unite
into a form
and then you remember
that is why you are always writing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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~.: *: .Gone.: *: .~
The days of your youth have slipped away
The fallout of innocence has brought you here
Take the pain inside, and show it through your lies
Your heart is shattered, thrown against the wall
Falling down amongst the pieces
Getting cut by your own heart
Believing you deserve every dropp of blood spilled
Standing up against the pain
Thinking on what has brought you here
The lies tumble inside your mind
Threatening to flow out through your tears
Everything has been taken from you
Your heart, your innocence, your life
And nothing has been given in return
Failing every day to know whether to go on
Pills in one hand, knife in another
The phone in front of you, with the message still there
The truth that it tells, the lies that it hides
With that one little word, 'No'
The answer to a very simple question
Of love that was freely given
Gone is everything that you are
poem by Arianna Loshnowsky
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A Little Discourse On This Journey With Me
i carry no light
i am crawling in this tunnel of dimness
bats hang on the ceiling of
wet stones
they do not sing
they're too preoccupied with their
silence
nothing about stares or
glances,
i carry with me the burden
of loneliness
morbid so they say
i have nothing to give except the truth
of the malady of
our chopped existences
sometimes i speak to the glowing
worm
i am not crazy though to expect
any logical
or sound response
this is the truth of our
living life
in the folds of indifference
i wonder though
why are you following me?
do you find joy in my shadows?
i look at my back
in truth there is none
so many are following
and now i know why
i know what it is
you nod.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gone Away 654
my heart has been ripped and torn a sunder shredded into a million, a billion a trillion diffrent little pieces spread across a void a darkness so dark so black so utterly void of of anything but light i wander thru alone lost and confused my mind on so many other other diffrent things other then what i was originally thinking of now im lost and by myself no other company other then me and my misery my sorrow my anger and my sadness i see nothing i use to see everything i was once someone now im no one les than nothing nothing more then the nothingness in which i was before try as i may and try as i might i dont try no more i do nothing the goodness and the greatness has left me in a place ill probably always be in the time goes on for others and others onward time ticks and tocks it beats like my heart slowly but surely sumthing of anything sum kinda wonderful my soul has filled with the deepest darkest saddest of thoughts thought of this and thoughts of that of what once was and now is nothing more i feel my very soul like a candle in the slowly and surely my candle fades away into the very winds of eternity my soul doesnt go out with a bang jus fades from light to the darkness in which i am now absorbed now and forever more gone away to a place where all ill ever know is loneliness and darkness and misery a hundred times over and over gone may it seem but always in your heart and in your thoughts id hope to be in and part of always
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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Yesterday, today and tomorrow
Today part of my life is shattered
and lay in pieces
like a pane of broken glass.
Yesterday my wife left me,
for another man
and her children
do not any more regard me
as a father,
though I sacrificed
my life for them.
Yesterday my reputation was in ruins
and not only with the people that I know,
but across the globe
lies were spread by emails about me
to make me loose integrity.
Yesterday two cars were stolen from me
and no police could find the cars
or the villains
and the insurance
absconded from paying
with very clever clauses.
Yesterday I started doing contract work
and do not really know
from where the next job will come
and what lies ahead
for the next month or year.
Today part of my life is shattered
and lay in pieces
like a pane of broken glass,
but today I started a new life
and are free
from the persons
that impeded me.
Today I love somebody really special
that I know loves me,
today I act as I always did
with respect and integrity,
today I do my work
to the best of my ability,
today I go to interviews
and still believe
that the right permanent job will come
and today I live my life
as if it’s the last and only day.
Only the great creator knows
what tomorrow holds,
but tomorrow is safe
in His hands and I wait
while His love unfolds
with the passage of time.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Shattered
My dreams are like my realms I live in,
Everything I have touched has shattered,
When I see you smiling with another girl,
I have become shattered into million pieces,
Somehow you manage not to notice that I am broken,
No more looking at you,
You make me sad,
Yet I get mad,
Glad to know I can be jealous,
Not enough to know that I wasn’t the one you liked after all these years,
I have open up my thoughts, my ears, my eyes,
To know that you weren’t nothing but a nobody to me now,
So now before you go and shatter my heart let me know what did I do to deserve this hate from you,
Is it to late for you know its too late to date me and that I am more happier then I can be,
Lets get the facts that you were just another guy with no brain at all,
You just drain my thoughts to think that you weren’t my boyfriend began with,
Theses rain shall fall when I cry,
Burst into tears of hate, and broken yet shattered heart of mine.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Without you
I write words in vain,
words of which the meaning
you do not comprehend
and how to press love
into a few words
I do not really know
and you are away
and we stay a hundred miles from each other
and it feels as if
it is in different worlds,
as if every thing with time looses meaning
and I play the songs that you sing over and over
as if I can hear something in your voice,
read your poems time and time again,
as if it can bring something of you back to me
while destiny flattens me
and you run
like water through my fingers
and without you
my life is without meaning
and it continues aimlessly
and I do not know
why things at times do not work out,
why I am fighting life’s struggle in vain
and I cannot get you
out of my heart,
and cannot fight against you being part of me
and my blood is pouring, as my heart is broken
and my life falls to pieces without you
and I hope that your plans are only prosperous.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Cigar
Some sigh for this and that,
My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.
Some fret themselves to death
With Whig and Tory jar;
I don't care which is in,
So I have my cigar.
Sir John requests my vote,
And so does Mr. Marr;
I don't care how it goes,
So I have my cigar.
Some want a German row,
Some wish a Russian war;
I care not. I'm at peace
So I have my cigar.
I never see the 'Post,'
I seldom read the 'Star;'
The 'Globe' I scarcely heed,
So I have my cigar.
Honors have come to men
My juniors at the Bar;
No matter - I can wait,
So I have my cigar.
Ambition frets me not;
A cab or glory's car
Are just the same to me,
So I have my cigar.
I worship no vain gods,
But serve the household Lar;
I'm sure to be at home,
So I have my cigar.
I do not seek for fame,
A general with a scar;
A private let me be,
So I have my cigar.
To have my choice among
The toys of life's bazaar,
The deuce may take them all
So I have my cigar.
Some minds are often tost
By tempests like a tar;
I always seem in port,
So I have my cigar.
The ardent flame of love,
My bosom cannot char,
I smoke but do not burn,
So I have my cigar.
They tell me Nancy Low
Has married Mr. R.;
The jilt! but I can live,
So I have my cigar.
poem by Thomas Hood
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River Of Blood
She would cry out her emotions,
in a field of wilting hay
she would stare aimlessly at the sky
as her life passed another dying May,
so long it has been,
since she wept in the field of sorrow,
returning there again,
she will never see tomorrow,
she looks out at the long lost field,
that has flooded over years,
a dark and desolate place, she stares,
this only mounts her fears,
taking a plunge,
its the perfect suicide,
now the river turns to red,
charred with secrets and lies
the river of blood ingulfed her,
as she yearned for inner peace,
now her life has ended,
thugh the river of blood will never cease
poem by Emily Wimetal
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After Joy Comes Misery
I am the sweetest Fool ever known
A Black soul of love unsown
A description so strange, you wonder why
To tell you the truth, you’d begin to cry
For I do love a lover’s love
So limitless like the sky above
But even the sky has an end
Where nothingness and darkness starts it trend
So I guess my love limits has finally reach
And the holes in my heart has spoken their speech
And shown me to embrace the loving hate
It also brings joy and happiness, in of its own state
You may be confused, the loving hate?
It’s a dish served cold on a black plate
It’s as mellow and sweet as a home cook meal
It’s the feeling of no feeling, a deal of no deal
With its joy loneliness is around the corner
Oh how I wish this dark joy can last much longer
But all good things must come to an end
And once again sadness becomes my friend
Joy always goes whether it’s good or dark
Circle of life, Oh what a heartless track
After joy comes sorrow and sorrow brings misery
No matter how you run misery is always misery
I have enjoyed the joy of living clean
Enjoyed the joy of the darkness within
But both left me shattered like a priceless vase
Forgotten like a poor man criminal case
So this I say this, enjoy your joy
For misery comes like a childhood toy
poem by Reginald Francois
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How Many Lies ?
Once there were times,
Once there were reasons filled with rhymes,
Everything shared, everything told
You keep me so warm,
Protect me from all those mighty storms
And dreams seem so old
So look at us now, just look at us now,
With our hands on our hearts
And lines on our brow
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
Do you read through the lines,
Or believe the tv and the times?
Where can we find more ways to see?
You strain on the truth,
And make believe all when you cry wolf,
And the lies youre giving me
So look at us now, just look at us now,
With our hands on our hearts
And lines on our brow
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
Oh, well the truth is hard,
So when they write the book,
Fictions what you wanna be
Well, its your freedom of choice,
But you know that lies, are the cancer of democracy
Youve painted your face,
And now youve tainted your words
And now youre ready and armed with love
Well if youre head is steady,
And your soul is ready,
Were going up above
So whatever you wanna be,
Just come on along with me,
If theres truth in our hearts,
Maybe we can break free
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave nothing, yeah
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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