As None Other Will Listen Me In Silence
god! whoever or whatever may you be
make my life simple
thoughts noble
speech striving towards truth
heart rushing to help the needy
head neither bloated nor depressed
mind never treating another
inferior or bankrupt of talent-
a resolve to walk alone
the path of righteousness against odds
a desire not exceeding my needs
a belief just capable of consoling my grief
and putting me back on life's unending stream!
god, i know i come to you with tears and pains
not in the hope i will see light
but to unburden my heart of my grief
as none other will listen me in total silence.
-s.chandra kalaadhar.
02.12.2012 / sunday
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Related quotes
For Many Many Years A Problem
for many many years a problem
seized me by my throat;
i ran to places broken-hearted
in search of a way-out of the muddle;
peace was at no peace with me
and swiftly receded far far into the horizon;
everywhere there seemed a solution
yet it was not to be, never to be;
i dashed my head with experts in the field
but my worries alone multiplied
and my purse ran dry and my eyes wet in tears;
my inner mouth was in ceaseless prayers
but no gods lifted their lids for a momentary glance;
the pages of my diary were drenched in sorrow;
years rolled on as it should, piling more grief on me;
no solution was in sight and i resigned to my fate
as a retribution for my commissions in earlier births.
one day, can i call it, a fine day
there had been a perceptable turn around;
it was for better, it seemed to be, my joy in pains-
it grew in arithmetic progression, drying my tears;
a simple solution, i knew not what, somewhere occurred;
o god, what was it that suddenly visited me
and thrashed and drove away my pain and grief?
who withheld it so long and why?
why now a change of heart all of a sudden?
my hair seemed to regain its black tint
my legs became light and leaping
my heart pumped more energy into my soul;
strong shafts of light shot into my indoors-
o god, everything is beyond my comprehension!
o friends in grief, await your moment, painting patience;
it would one day oblige our tireless efforts!
--s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Licia Sonnets 37
I speak, fair Licia, what my torments be,
But then my speech too partial do I find;
For hardly words can with those thoughts agree,
Those thoughts that swarm in such a troubled mind.
Then do I vow my tongue shall never speak
Nor tell my grief that in my heart doth lie;
But cannon-like, I then surcharged do break,
And so my silence worse than speech I try.
Thus speech or none, they both do breed my care;
I live dismayed, and kill my heart with grief;
In all respects my case alike doth fare
To him that wants, and dare not ask relief.
Then you, fair Licia, sovereign of my heart,
Read to yourself my anguish and my smart.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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The Last Shower
The radio, first chattering companion of the day,
timed its cold shower of the mind with lethal precision
reminding as I stepped into the warmth of water
of those who stepped into the ‘shower’
and never stepped out
those many past numbering
but each one a one
and a gentle Scots Quaker voice
conducting this Holocaust Day memorial
to the indescribable
spoke the phrase
‘the dignity of difference’
offering the heart some way to walk
the path of grief with human hope
the dignity of difference –
an empty form of words
like poetry,
like grief,
poised between nothing and everything
waiting to be filled
with tears and joy
with love and sorrow
with memory and hope
with prayer and promise
with mercy and resolve
with humility and lawfulness
with life and the memory of death
with the memory of death, and life
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Village Of Hopes And Dreams
As we all come upon a death of a certain loved one
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all lose the championship,
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all fail a test, of which we tried so hard on,
We grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all walk in the rain the same, so sad
The mood of the storm changes us
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all cry the same with blood-shot eyes, hoping no one sees us,
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all pray to God that this pain will stop,
We never think what we’ve down for him.
As I have lost something so great,
I lift my head to the sky
Pray to God that he will bless me with the opportunity
Of doing better next time.
As I learned from my elders the way you walk can tell a lot about yourself.
So I walk with my head up high, knowing God has sent his angels
To guide me in my path.
And if I did grief in the same way as others, with my head down.
I know that the Devil will be staring me down.
And as I walk home on this rainy day,
I pray that sunshine is on its way!
As I’ve cried in this stall,
I got on my knees and prayed to God to let these tears stop
With hopes and dreams I get from him,
Smiling each day because I know I am strong.
poem by Rachel Martin
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A Buddah Is Born In Me
a buddha is born in me
&
every morning
a 'buddha' is born in me
as a clear babbling stream
are all my meditated thoughts-
the roots of worries
like mirror reflections-
the moon-beam of life
at a reachable distance-
i gaze into myself
in perfect perspective -
and visualize myself
as a rootlet in every happening-
the goodness of others blossom
as the bright bars of morning sun -
i destroy my poison
to let in good thoughts-
'bliss hereafter in my life! '
i enjoy in meaningful silence.
&
in the speed of seconds
in the friction of events
in the rashness of conclusions
and in the heat of anger
i expolde offensive words
and burn myself-
why everyone has drawn
daggers at me, all in unison?
i knock my head
in depths of darkness.
where my buddha
had gone dead?
how did so many ghosts
gain entry into me
to crush and drink my blood?
&
' i will turn a good soul tomorrow! '
i tell the night that drags me along;
i could read a soft smile at its lips!
-chandra kalaadhar
S.CHANDRA KALAADHAR
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Look Down Upon
I will not look down upon any man
Even if he has cheated or has stole
So I will not say that I will or that I can
As I cannot see inside any mans soul,
I will not think that I am better than him
Judging from the clothes that he might wear
As in life we will either sink or swim
And sometimes the help we need is never there,
I will never think myself as superior
By ridiculing someone else for their belief
As if I did I myself would be inferior
And my mind and thoughts would give me grief,
I cannot and would not belittle any person
For a sad way that they live their life
If I did my own thoughts would only worsen
As I know not of their turmoil or strife,
I don't know of the life that they had
Or of the footsteps that they had taken
I don’t know what made them happy or sad
Or by whom, they might had been forsaken,
Never will I look down upon anyone
Truly I don't care what others might see
As one day I know as I am in my coffin
And I want no one looking down upon me.
poem by Randy McClave
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The Way Of The World.
THE WAY OF THE WORLD.
When I talk something sweet of you
Understand-
There remains the sticky slag of black bitterness
In the inmost recesses of my heart!
When I powerfully contradict something outside
Beware-
The same I approve meekly in my heart!
Ever at strife are my heart and tongue-
To the speechless voice of my heart
Listen you, then, O, my friend!
When something slanderous of women I profess aloud
Understand-
My thievish looks in every corner fish for them!
When I advise you of obscenity to shun with all vehemence
Beware-
The same to my lustful eyes is a sumptuous treat!
Poles apart are my tongue and eyes-
So to the speechless voice of your sleepless conscience
Listen you then, O my friend!
When I seriously resolve to end my life
Beware-
A very strong desire roots deep secretly
In the soil of my heart!
When I burst myself into flashing laughter
Understand-
I break into sobs and swim in tears!
Believe not the play of expressions
On the stage of my face-
So tune your ears
To the speechless storms of my lonesome heart!
--s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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In my closet
In throes of grief wit no pal nigh
my aches let out in trembling sigh
no hi from all my dearie pals
they all and sundry wandering far
just alone with me an I
no one to help dry my tearfilled eye
bleeding heart and griefsick mind
not a joy around to find
grief sticking like a second skin
sticking closer than a next of kin
so much pains for my lowly age
leaving me pleading for a saving grace
a grace to help end my painful seige
in which im so clamped in grief
so at least my tears would cease
and my pains could really ease.
poem by Saintdc Reward
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Babatunde
The pains and tears of life!
In the valley of darkness;
The joy and love of life!
In the valley of light;
But listen to the voice from my heart;
For, the words from my mind will always teach you.
He should marry this woman!
She should marry this man!
But, i am now in Baghdad's Sadr City;
Moving around like one's life on the narrow path! !
However, i hope to meet Babatunde my friend;
Because, i need the directions of this land.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In the silence of my mind
In the silence of my mind my perception is my reality
So life can be whatever I desire it to be
In the silence of my mind when fright fills my eyes with tears
I can search my soul to see if they are any reasons for my fears
In the silence of my mind I’m protected from the dangers of sin
And sheltered from the storm of trials and its thunderous winds
In the silence of my mind I’m relieved from pain
And even in the valleys of my situation I can smile without shame
In the silence of my mind my predestined path is revealed
And my short-comings and scars are forgiven and healed
In the silence of my mind there’s restitution
And the tolerance that encourages perfection
So when depressed and there is no help of any kind
Don’t stress, just retreat to the silence of your mind.
poem by Astell Collins
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Fruit Of The Spirit
Though broken 'neath the weight of grief,
The heart beats on in sorrow.
It seeks to meet some soon relief
But finds none in the morrow.
The heart is crushed; it's bruised to tears
And cannot sense the reason
For life that would but disappear
Before it's own due season.
The child who grew next to my heart,
Transfused such love and laughter;
But soon his young life would depart
Ascending the Hereafter.
Oh, Heart, produce your fruit of grief-
Much sweeter than the vine.
For though you're trampled 'neath the Thief,
You're left to pen these lines.
You must beat on against the foe
For Death must be defeated.
Allow your tears of grief to flow
Until with Christ we're seated.
poem by Jean Mallette
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Softly, O! dropp mine eyes
Softly, O! dropp mine eyes, lest you be dry,
And make my heart with grief to melt and die.
Now pour out tears apace,
Now stay, O heavy case!
O sour sweet woe!
Alas! O grief! O joy! Why strive you so?
Can griefs and joys at once in one poor heart consent?
Then sigh and sing, rejoice, lament.
Ah me! O passions strange and violent!
Was never poor wretch so tormented:
Nor joy, nor grief can make my heart contented.
For while with joy I look on high,
Down, down I fall with grief, and die.
poem by John Wilbye
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Hope in Heaven's Day
Grief be mine, I ask you so,
If not for you, I wouldn't know,
How life once was and then be still,
How so precious, that death do steal.
Because that grief, won't go away,
Learn to let it have its way.
The link to love, a precious one,
Is met with grief and still not done.
The days do come, and nights do go,
Grief will stay as time is so.
And so a loved one passes on,
And grief comes in and carries on.
Does grief get better, I will ask,
It's hard to say, while at its task.
There is grief to help us cope,
There is God to give us hope.
Grief will surely go away,
On that glorious heaven's day.
But while its here, there's just one thing,
Pray our Lord, for peace he'll bring.
poem by Arlene Dery
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All That’s Needed
I do not need any external relief, I just need to live out my belief,
Belief that goes beyond salvation, as I lean on God’s Revelation,
While things change and surely will, I need to let my heart be still,
Knowing my Lord is God over all, ordering events, big and small.
I know not what’s down the road, but, alone I don’t carry the load,
Following God, the burden’s light, even through the darkest night,
Never knowing what may be ahead, I depend on my Lord instead,
Who, through His Word is my guide, walking faithfully at my side.
The faith that I have in Jesus Christ, not only gives me eternal life,
For along with that blessed hope, God gives me strength to cope,
With unwanted trials that appear, on my earthly journey down here,
And with my eyes upon The Lord, plenty of grace, God will afford.
My friend, as I live out my faith, God provides me sufficient grace,
As my Lord leads me in this life, He comforts me in times of strife,
Upholding me in the deepest grief, as I firmly hold close my belief,
Not just my faith, but Jesus Christ, who had paid the ultimate price.
God’s Word lights my path each day, as I journey life’s narrow way,
With His Word hidden in my heart, God’s Truth each day has a part,
Directing each and every thought, as His Truth in my life is wrought,
Placing me on a Firm Foundation, through my faith in His Salvation.
(Copyright ©01/2011 Bob Gotti)
Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John 1 (Chapter 1)
The Word of Life:
‘The word of life which was always,
That we had heard with our own ears,
Which we had seen with our two eyes,
That our hands have really touched,
Unto you too, we declare thus,
That you have fellowship with us,
And with Father and Son, Jesus.’
Walking in the Light:
We write these unto you so that,
The joy that’s full fills up your heart;
The message that we heard from Him
Is God is Light, without darkness!
To say that we have fellowship,
And walk in darkness is a lie,
And cannot be the truth at all;
As He is light, we walk in light,
We’ve fellowship with everyone.
The blood of Jesus Christ, His son,
Cleanses our souls from stains of sin;
If we say that we have no sin,
Is not the truth that lies within,
For, we deceive ourselves and God.
If we confess our sins to God,
He readily forgives us all,
And spares us from His fairer rod,
And gives us back our righteousness.
If we say we have never sinned,
We make Him too a liar great;
His word dwells not inside our heart.
(6-23-2007)
poem by John Celes
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Sadness and grief
Sadness and grief are not like horror, fear,
They are much lighter, don't press to ground,
Sadness and grief - are the necessary feelings
To live on earth, without any doubt.
When you are born, you can't avoid the grief,
If you lose the essential in life,
And sadness follows you for years,
Trying to tie you to the moments of light,
Where there was no grief and sadness...
That moments - are the miraculous creatures
Of the Reality and of the Mind...
And all in them - are closely united,
And at the same time distant and untied...
--
In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2012/02/11/10141
poem by Lyudmila Purgina
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Tears Of Rage
We carried you in our arms
On independence day,
And now youd throw us all aside
And put us on our way.
Oh what dear daughter neath the sun
Would treat a father so,
To wait upon him hand and foot
And always tell him, no?
Tears of rage, tears of grief,
Why must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
Were so alone
And life is brief.
We pointed out the way to go
And scratched your name in sand,
Though you just thought it was nothing more
Than a place for you to stand.
Now, I want you to know that while we watched,
You discover there was no one true.
Most evrybody really thought
It was a childish thing to do.
Tears of rage, tears of grief,
Must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
Were so low
And life is brief.
It was all very painless
When you went out to receive
All that false instruction
Which we never could believe.
And now the heart is filled with gold
As if it was a purse.
But, oh, what kind of love is this
Which goes from bad to worse?
Tears of rage, tears of grief,
Must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
Were so low
And life is brief.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hidden Tears Within
Let the rain roll down the face
Hiding tears of sadness for
Our grief will come to us
Without even asking, playing
Different roles, so when
Comfort deny us pain
They see our faces and will
Know it will come back again
Even if disguised, praying
Amnesia sometimes. Tears
will always warm the songs
Of sorrow, subsiding the silence
Within our hearts, playing
Rhythms of grief.
January 2012
poem by Alex Sarich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Path of Hope
The Path of Hope
The Path of Life is layed before you
Life is like a novel…It has elements
It has Characters
It has Settings
It has a Plot
It has Ideals and Morals
Like Friendship and Love
Like Faith and Sacrifice
Like Fate and Destiny
Like Hope and Despair
There are Paths…Paths of your destiny
The Path of Good or The Path of Evil
The Path of Darkness or The Path of Light
The Path of Hope or The Path of Despair
Only you can choose your path
But chose wisely…For you can’t turn back time
You must follow your heart…For it will guide you
Never give up on your dreams
Always Believe…Trust your heart
Don’t let the bad people get you down
Just Believe,
Trust your Heart,
Have Faith in your Dreams,
Have Hope in the Despair,
Follow the Light in the Darkness
Find the Euphoria in the Sorrows,
Trust your Friends,
Follow the Stars…They will Guide you
May the Stars be a Light for you when all other Lights go out
Life is like a Novel…
poem by Bleeding Heart
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How Many and How Few
How many men with whom you just can talk.
How few of men with whom you cherish silence
And go for the longest walk
To feel the natures fragrance.
How many men with whom it could be better to keep silence
So that do not spill the beans when you are in grief.
How few of men which could be a reliance
And do not steal your credit as a thief.
With whom to find the strength of will?
Whom to believe with all your heart?
Whom should you call when soul is still,
When everything seems to be apart?
How few of men with whom without no wonder
The one could share grief and gladness,
Be happy even when the outside is a thunder
And live the life of love and to its fullness.
Perhaps we love and live a happy endless life
With those few which won't give up without a strife.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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