Loss is sustained
Every loss gives me a grief.
What remains then gives me relief.
Relief thus encompasses the grief.
Every loss is well sustained.
09.07.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
What is loss?
I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents
So what’s the fuss about loss?
Waiting!
Debating!
Contemplating!
What is loss?
Something you care about
Taken away from you by force
Creating total unforgivable chaos
Thinking!
Blinking!
Seeking!
What is loss
It is a minus instead of a plus
Hence the unmistakable fuss
Death and sickness build up great grief
Loss brings despair instead of relief
And in loss itself I have no belief
I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents
Loss! An inequitable cause
Thrown on you without a toss
So you become very cross
Because in your life you realize, you are never the only boss!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Great Grief
William's son, named Hamnet,
died in 1596,
aged just eleven and a half
when Will was thirty two.
Will's great grief
made greater grief
to compensate for loss.
It mixed a wild concoction,
made grieving man go mad.
Hamlet given no relief
relieved sad Shakespeare's grief.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Sport Relief
Do something for a child,
Even if you don't feel so wild.
The money that comes,
Can be very big sums.
It goes all to charity,
to help us have parity.
It is all sport relief,
To make lesser grief.
Sport may seem like grief,
But this helps to bring relief.
To those who have grief,
Who should not be a thief.
To earn their living,
So help them get a better living.
They'd do anything for a living,
So please give them a shilling.
poem by Kaleb Brown
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A loss is a relief too
When I lost my wife
I felt that I had lost a leg.
Then I happen to know
That it had got my hands free.
Each loss brings a relief
That vanishes soon the grief.
08.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Rehabbers
as one enters
fragmented;
to set aside, to separate
two personas quarreling
inside the same person.
as one meets
fragmented others;
to identify, to join
two persons reminiscing
outside their subdued personas.
and some would like to fix the mess
and some would like to mess with one more fix.
behind the facade
you can sense the fear
we do not wish to wake up
from our hesitant paralysis.
we carry our cages
we dropp our kingdoms
the loss, the relief
the relief, the loss.
poem by Chris Jelens
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Villanelle on a Proverb
The heart once broken is a heart no more.
—Edna St. Vincent Millay
The proverb says that time confers relief,
heals a crimson gash or knits whole a bone
and years unlock a knuckled fist of grief
that clenches emptiness in disbelief
to keep one's wits from being overthrown,
while time, the proverb says, confers relief
from cleaving wounds, paradoxical thief,
that also tears apart fused hearts grown
beyond the lock of knuckled-fisted grief
half-hearts collapsed empty in unbelief
at finalities beneath lids of stone,
while time, proverbially, confers relief
by bleaching wounds to scars—its chief
repair—but cannot heal a heart left alone
although the years unlock the fist of grief,
proclaiming the proverbial motif
that all wounds heal, time cannot atone
for vacancy. The proverb lies. Relief
unlocks a fist, but not the archived grief.
poem by William F Dougherty
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To Debby On The Death Of Her Dad
To say sorry seems such an easy thing to say
But from you that won't take your sense of loss away
You have been burdened with a heavy cross
And time alone can only heal your sense of loss.
Old 98 for you it ended bad
The grim reaper from you he took your dad
I only can imagine how you must feel
But time the scars of sorrow always heal.
You've lost the hero of your childhood years
And he was one well worthy of your tears
But Debby your tears will bring to you relief
And help to heal your mental scars of grief.
Your father was a man I never knew
But he was one who meant so much to you
The life breath from his body may be gone
But his soul alive and well and living on.
I'm one of those with words who like to play
And to say sorry such an easy thing to say
And I can't feel the sense of loss you feel
And time itself the only thing that heal.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Loss Of...
Loss it seems is the worst kind of sorrow
Loss of dreams, the dreams of tomorrow
Loss of the moments you two should have shared
Loss of opportunities to show her you cared
Loss of the memories you both could have created
Loss of the romance once intense as you dated
Loss of a kiss, caress, or embrace
Loss of that special feeling no one else can replace
Loss of a look, the twinkle in her eye
Loss of the touch as you pass each other by
Loss of a future, from a past of regret
Loss of a last chance, how many do you get
Loss of a promise you never meant to break
Loss of two hearts that forever will ache
(2012)
poem by Michael Ernst
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Civil War Insanity
world turmoil aid relief
nature human depravity
pulls us horizons apart
black hole event gravity
heartache loss rage grief
civil war conflict insanity
cannot peacemaker overcome
star pulse twinkle destiny
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Can Go Through Grief
I can go through grief
and still have belief
that somehow goodness will prevail.
And that my God will never fail
to provide me with relief.
I must think beyond loss.
never allow this albatross
to sever my connection to hope
which would never let me cope
and have me bear a cross.
For I must learn to exist
and learn to resist
the hollowness of life without you,
and the loneliness in what I must do
to forget what it is I have missed.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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On The Death Of My Father
My brain has turned to ash, and yes,
My mouth is dust,
And love is grief, and death is
But the loss of trust;
While life is paupered, futures turn,
Feed on the past,
And dwell on words you might have…
If I’d only asked!
No point to dwell again, but yet
I must, I will;
Was there some hint, a glimpse perhaps
You’d long distilled,
Was I so blind, insensible
And dead to grief
That death could snatch you carelessly,
Some petty thief.
Perspectives shift, horizons narrow,
Drift my sand,
Your loss has marked my end, that shallow
Sleight of man,
What now remains of you, I am
Though poor in creed,
For what you were was love, and this
I’ve lost indeed.
1 August 1987
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 02
A merchant, having suffered loss of a thousand dinars, enjoined his son not to reveal it to anyone. The boy said: ‘It is thy order and I shall not tell it but thou must inform me of the utility of this proceeding and of the propriety of concealment.’ He replied: ‘For fear the misfortune would be double; namely, the loss of the money and, secondly, the joy of neighbours at our loss.’
Reveal not thy grief to enemies
Because they will say ‘La haul’ but rejoice.
Emotional Scavenger
And now in the cold light of day,
Grief casts her shadows long,
and grey
Draining warmth & blinding me
To the glorious hope
Of day;
Grief would steal my soul and hide it
In blackness,
Whispering reminders
Of pain,
And loss,
And death…
Mocking hope's insistence,
Spurning love's comfort;
Grief watches,
Expectant, she waits…
Grief, scavenger of emotions,
Is ever hopeful.
poem by Jinge Norvall
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THIS GREAT STORM(for Junie)
My heart nothing but
an onion skin thin
sheet of paper
almost see through
transparent in its sadness
grief scrawled
across it
in a violent violet
ink
that still
hasn't faded
this heavy hurt
this all too too solid pain
necessary paperweights
to prevent my heart
being blown away
in this great storm
of loss...loss...loss.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Being wise and fool
Big gain big loss is a risk.
No gain no loss is secure.
Small gain small loss is safe.
Small gain no loss is wise.
Big gain no loss is luck
Small gain big loss is a foolery.
We have recourse to all these
Somewhere sometime impulsively.
16.01.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Affliction (III)
My heart did heave, and there came forth, 'O God'!
By that I knew that thou wast in the grief,
To guide and govern it to my relief,
Making a sceptre of the rod:
Hadst thou not had thy part,
Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart.
But since thy breath gave me both life and shape,
Thou know'st my tallies; and when there's assigned
So much breath to a sigh, what's then behind?
Or if some years with it escape,
The sigh then only is
A gale to bring me sooner to my bliss.
Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art still
Constant unto it, making it to be
A point of honour now to grieve in me,
And in thy members suffer ill.
They who lament one cross,
Thou dying daily, praise thee to thy loss.
poem by George Herbert
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Sift And Shift
with grief are black veils of women
trying to filter the gleaming of tears
with grief are the hands trying to
sift and shift the sounds of the cries
with grief are women
mourning for the deaths of men
for the loss of children
for the rape of the earth
the thin crust of morals
dirt of the feet
dusts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time Is Not Kind
Time brings no relief to me.
I miss him so much and you can't see
each day that comes,
each day that goes
just like the spring and winter snows.
It leaves me with my grief.
Time brings no relief to me.
Where is the time when I can be
without his face
in every place?
I believed the lie that time can heal
and liven up my pace.
But each step I take where he has been
is not a step I'm happy in.
Each day that's born,
each night that leaves
echoes the lie as I grieve.
Time brings no relief to me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Comfort In Tears
How happens it that thou art sad,
While happy all appear?
Thine eye proclaims too well that thou
Hast wept full many a tear.
"If I have wept in solitude,
None other shares my grief,
And tears to me sweet balsam are,
And give my heart relief."
Thy happy friends invite thee now,--
Oh come, then, to our breast!
And let the loss thou hast sustain'd
Be there to us confess'd!
"Ye shout, torment me, knowing not
What 'tis afflicteth me;
Ah no! I have sustained no loss,
Whate'er may wanting be."
If so it is, arise in haste!
Thou'rt young and full of life.
At years like thine, man's blest with strength.
And courage for the strife.
"Ah no! in vain 'twould be to strive,
The thing I seek is far;
It dwells as high, it gleams as fair
As yonder glitt'ring star."
The stars we never long to clasp,
We revel in their light,
And with enchantment upward gaze,
Each clear and radiant night.
"And I with rapture upward gaze,
On many a blissful day;
Then let me pass the night in tears,
Till tears are wip'd away!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Teachers Are Afraid Of The Pupils
Theres too many people
Planning your downfall
When your spirits on trial
These nights can be frightening
Sleep transports sadness
To some other mid-brain
And somebody here
Will not be here next year
So you stand by the board
Full of fear and intention
And, if you think that theyre listening
Well, youve got to be joking
Oh, you understand change
And you think its essential
But when your profession
Is humiliation
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
Mucus on your collar
A nail up through the staff chair
A blade in your soap
And you cry into your pillow
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Im very glad the spring has come
The sun shines out so bright
All the birds that are on the trees
Are singing for delight
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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