Grief and tragedy and hatred are only for a time. Goodness, remembrance and love have no end.
quote by George W. Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Act Of Rememberence
Arms of steel, hair of gold
Royal blue eyes, with a rebel soul
You scared me, you still do
But I loved you
More than you ever knew
This is my act of remembrance
My act of remembrance
Doctor's face, said the time had come
I stood up, and began to run
My boy's voice, called your name
You roared back and the silence came
This is my act of remembrance
My act of remembrance
Drove my car, to your street
Hoped a ghost, I would meet
Well that ghost, he's moved on
But his anger, Dad is it gone?
Is the pain gone, is it all gone?
This is my act of remembrance
My act of remembrance
This is my act of remembrance
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love and Hatred
Love is not so heavy as hatred,
Love is gentle and soothing,
While hatred is rude and disturbing,
Love is an attribute of God,
While hatred is the quality of devil,
Love makes,
Hatred mars,
Love teaches how to live,
Hatred is tired of life,
Love is soft as gentle rain,
Hatred is hard as drought,
Love is deep like an ocean,
Hatred is shallow without commotion,
Love makes sacrifice,
Hatred escapes sacrifice,
Love is everlasting,
Hatred is transcient,
Love releases fragrance,
While hatred stinks,
Love relies on heart,
Hatred relies on mind,
Love loses,
Hatred gains,
In a nutshell,
Love is life,
Hatred is death,
So let's spread love.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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The Lost Love
When I broke myself.
I broke with someone too.
Someone whom was very close to me.
Someone Whom I could trust.
This was the last time we met.
This was the last time we exchange our words.
This crazy thing called love.
Has become a problem for me.
Now, love has disappear.
Love has become hatred.
It's hard to purify my heart.
It's hard to purify my soul.
Love equals tragedy.Of course.
Tragedy also equals broken-heart.
When hope is lost forever.
Love will last forever.
poem by Yash Pradhan
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The Remembrance Of The Good
THE remembrance of the Good
Keep us ever glad in mood.
The remembrance of the Fair
Makes a mortal rapture share.
The remembrance of one's Love
Blest Is, if it constant prove.
The remembrance of the One
Is the greatest joy that's known.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Beyond the grief.
It seems as if we are stalled by our grief,
unable to move away from it – and I wonder
if we will ever get over the loss of you. In time
they say we will, that one day we will finally be free
of the sadness that burdens our hearts, and we will dance
in our remembrance, and there will be no more tears.
But if that's true, I must admit I will miss the tears
when there is an eventual easing of the grief.
I am not as eager to begin the dance
of life without you, for the world has lost its wonder
for me, some of its shine - and being free
seems awfully relative - I suppose just like time.
I can still so clearly recall the last time
we were all together - the tears
we shared, even laughter, when you were set free
of this earthly pain - and even in our grief,
we were filled with such wonder
as we witnessed the end of life's dance.
When I was a little boy you used to let me dance
on the top of your shoes, moving in time
to the music on the radio. Is it any wonder
that music, to this day, brings tears
of joy, mingled with the ever-present grief,
which still has not set me completely free.
I now realize there is a cost to love; it's not free -
for when you love, you buy a ticket to the dance
of life - which comes with joy and pain, celebration and grief.
And if you have lived a long enough time,
as I have, even when the loss brings never ending tears,
with a broken heart, it's worth all of the pain, and it's no wonder
people love so fiercely - so much so that they cease to wonder
about the why, when or where - and now I realize that I am free
to love, and to lose, which will bring with it many tears.
But each tear is worth it - and seems to make the dance
more authentic. In the end, I will measure my time
by how much of it was filled with love, and with grief.
No longer will I wonder whether or not I should dance,
I will just be free, stepping in and out of time,
wearing my tears like a badge of honor as I move beyond the grief.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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To hatred but her sister I fall
I am little admitting into being small
To hatred but her sister I fall
Upon you love I fairly call
For remembrance, perseverance, deliverance and all.
Upon you I lean
Carry me now my love, hatred but her sister I plead
I don’t write or speak but I bleed
I drip words that won’t pause nor cease
I dream
I see your reflection keen
To destroy the deep inner part of me
You kill
You bury, you hide and you seal
Under the blanket of love, me
poem by Mitta Xinindlu
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Be Good
Be a good person
Goodness has no tribe
Goodness has no village
Goodness has no other name
Goodness thrives on any land
In the desert
Goodness is oasis
In the wilderness
Goodness is a pathway
Goodness is required anywhere
It is food to man
It nourishes the giver
And gives happiness to the receiver
Goodness is pleasant
So be good
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Tragedy is nothing new
I am still in love with you
Tragedy is nothing new.
I still don’t understand you
Tragedy is nothing new.
I still feel sad without you
Tragedy is nothing new.
I still can’t make love with you
Tragedy is nothing new.
poem by Asif Andalib
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What Have I Done Wrong?
Here again to show the sadness, pain, and grief
Not of lost love, but a pain so bleak
A life that seems so meek
A darkened shadow that creeps it way to kill
To kill the ones who show no lives, low-lives
A time shall come when a time shall pass
A time when time has started to tick, to click
Madness fills the veins of grief
Insanity thrives even deeper
But a time shall come when the grasses shall grow green
The sky will be blue, and the storm will calm
The mind will ease, the heart will slow
And a new life begins
Now the new life has begun, but pain still thrives
And grief and hatred are still strong
Happiness is losing
Excitement long gone
What have I done wrong?
poem by Alex Fischer
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For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time hatred ceases by love - this is an old rule.
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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Tragedy
Here I lie
in a lost and lonely part of town
Held in time
In a world of tears I slowly drown
Goin'home
I just can't make it all alone
I really should be holding you
Holding you
Loving you loving you
Tragedy
When the feeling's gone and you can't go on
It's tragedy
When the morning cries and you don't know why
It's hard to bear
With no-one to love you you're
goin' nowhere
Tragedy
When you lose control and you got no soul
It's tragedy
When the morning cries and you don't know why
It's hard to bear
With no-one beside you you're
goin' nowhere
When the feeling's gone and you can't go on
Night and day
there's a burning down inside of me
Burning love
With a yearning that won't let me be
Down I go
and I just can't take it all alone
I really should be holding you
Holding you
Loving you loving
Tragedy
When the feeling's gone and you can't go on
It's tragedy
When the morning cries and you don't know why
It's hard to bear
With no-one to love you you're
goin' nowhere
Tragedy
When you lose control and you got no soul
It's tragedy
When the morning cries and you don't know why
It's hard to bear
With no-one beside you you're
goin' nowhere
Tragedy etc.
song performed by by Bee Gees from Spirits Having Flown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Was A Time, I Need Not Name
There was a time, I need not name,
Since it will ne'er forgotten be,
When all our feelings were the same
As still my soul hath been to thee.
And from that hour when first thy tongue
Confess'd a love which equall'd mine,
Though many a grief my heart hath wrung,
Unknown, and thus unfelt, by thine,
None, none hath sunk so deep as this---
To think how all that love hath flown;
Transient as every faithless kiss,
But transient in thy breast alone.
And yet my heart some solace knew,
When late I heard thy lips declare,
In accents once imagined true,
Remembrance of the days that were.
Yes! my adored, yet most unkind!
Though thou wilt never love again,
To me 'tis doubly sweet to find
Remembrance of that love remain.
Yes! 'tis a glorious thought to me,
Nor longer shall my soul repine,
Whate'er thou art or e'er shalt be,
Thou hast been dearly, solely mine.
There Is A Goodness That Comes
When I feel a good deed is done,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.
And when I know I can let go of my woes,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.
I feel a goodness that comes.
A goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes over me.
I feel a goodness that comes.
I feel a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes over me.
When I awaken from a peaceful sleep,
There is a goodness that comes over me.
There is a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that comes over me.
When I feel a good deed is done,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.
And when I know I can let go of my woes,
I feel a goodness that comes over me.
I feel a goodness that comes.
I feel a goodness that comes.
There is a goodness that I feel over me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be Loyal To The Royal!
When the Royal British Legion
Began its ministry,
There was no quick completion,
No finished certainty.
Instead, there was a battle,
That went from war-to-war...
When souls were sold as chattel,
Possessions, nothing more...
Yet men weren't born for ditches
And pain and grief and mud...
For each soul has its riches
Beyond each dropp of blood.
Each man still has a family,
In Heaven or on Earth...
That's why we wear the poppy,
Remembrance has its worth.
The noble know their value,
They don't need preaching to.
They know what men have been put through.
Each had his job to do...
Yet charity still beckons us,
A duty to perform...
Beyond the thoughts we can't discuss,
Beyond the raging storm.
The welfare needs of others
Are here this very day.
If helping's not above us,
Then God will lead the way...
Support the Legion's service now
In sacrificial love.
By simply asking who and how
Is really not enough...
There's so much more that's left to do
Beyond the where and why.
The biggest question mark is YOU...
Don't pass the Legion by.
Remembrance isn't once a year,
Observed and then dismissed.
Remembrance isn't just a tear
Or tears if griefs persist.
Remembrance is a lifetime
In which to do our best.
It's 'Buddy, can you spare a dime? '
And not how well you're dressed.
It's offering a helping hand...
Like others have before...
For all across this noble land
Are hearts still marked by war...
poem by Denis Martindale
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To let out hatred
I exert hatred through abuse and curse.
I leak hatred by sulks and silence.
Gossips and revenge are other outlets.
Hatred explodes in quarrels and slanders
Being jealous also a hatred
To cut jokes too is to expel hatred.
Hatred is faeces inevitable.
Not to constipate, it must be let out
08.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...
not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
and behold,
life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Evil is good
My hatred for one begets pity for the other.
My hatred for one fetches love for the other.
My hatred for one begets surrender to the other.
My hatred is evil that balances with good.
21.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Remembrance Day
For our king and our country and the promise of glory
We came from kingston and brighton to fight on the front line
Just lads from the farms and boys from the cities
Not meant to be soldiers we lay in the trenches
Wed face the fighting with a smile - or so we said
If only we had known what danger lay ahead
The sky turned to grey as we went into battle
On the fields of europe young men were fallin
Ill be back for you someday - it wont be long
If I can just hold on til this bloody war is over
The guns will be silent on remembrance day
Therell be no more fighting on remembrance day
By october of 18 cambrai had fallen
Soon the war would be over and wed be returnin
Dont forget me while Im gone far away
Well it wont be long till Im back there in your arms again
One day soon - I dont know when
You know well all be free and the bells of peace will ring again
The time will come for you and me
Well be goin home when this bloody war is ended
The guns will be silent on remembrance day
Well all say a prayer on remembrance day
On remembrance day - say a little prayer
On remembrance day
Well the guns will be silent
Therell be no more fighting
Oh well lay down our weapons
On remembrance day
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Babble...
the goodness that good does
to you, your greed come blocking,
you haven't measured yet
goodness with goodness, you lie
and all the excuses are recited,
and i do not listen, my goodness
does what good can do to you,
i shall ambush, your conscience,
i wait, my goodness can kill you,
then shall you be good forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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