Hidden Sorrow
Only because i smile,
Doesn't prove my glee,
For my hidden sorrow,
Is now controlling me,
This sea of melancholy,
Is slowly drowning me,
Under the burning crimson sky,
And screeching black stars,
the contempt that boils within,
Creates only a greater sorrow,
This contempt for myself,
And the reproach I give myself,
This reproach I can't bear,
This abuse I can't withstand,
the torment and pain,
Feds my growing hidden sorrow,
poem by Paurakh Shrestha
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My Only Song
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
You took it all
Without any gain.
You loved us all
With gentle eyes
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
39 plus one
Lashes great fall on your back
A crown of thorns
Pressed down around your head
The blood runs down
and yet you cry
'So many lost;
So many die.'
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
Leave it now-
And cry again
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
Your troubled heart
Feels my pain.
Lifted up to die
Bitter gall served fresh
As wine
Yet you'd do it again
For one lost sheep
That beats in the air.
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
When is it enough?
So much grief
You swallow up
Yet you bore it
And demand me live-
Man of sorrow
I humbled myself down.
All glory to you
Man of sorrow
All thrones belong to you
Man of pain
You gave me life and
Even more
I have nothing
But myself to give -
Yet I keep taking it back
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
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Sorrow Under Mist
Mist -
Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -
Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.
In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.
We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.
But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.
Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sorrow Rain
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
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sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Dear Sorrow, Death Awaits Your Acquaintance
The rain keeps Falling
And the Pain goes on
Your name I try calling
But the words just pass on by
The air
Bitter and cold
The shivers now suddenly unfold
I start to lose my breath
And once again see death
Face to Face we see
That life for me, isn't supposed to be
'She is Not important,
Shes lost in the shadows..
Drowning in grief and pain
There will be no tomorrow,
For she is all Sorrow'
'She is all sorrow'
There shall be no Tomorrow for Dear Sweet Sorrow.
Sorrow, Sorrow In the air
Death Has come so stay prepared.
poem by Sorrow Lynn
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Like My Own
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of a martyr'd soul,
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of one who is alone.
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of loving one who's gone,
There's never been a sorrow so much deeper than my own.
Lament
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between,
Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream,
Gone are the rocky places and the green,
Hidden, hidden under sorrow is yonder mountain,
Hidden, hidden.
O storm and gale of tears, whose blinding screen
Makes weather of grief, snow's drifting curtain
Palls th'immortal heights once seen.
Hidden, hidden is the heart,
Hidden, hidden is the heart.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Sorrow and joy
Being in poverty is sorrow.
Leaving comfort is sorrow.
Wish withheld is sorrow.
Fear upheld is sorrow.
Contact with unpleasantness is sorrow.
Separation from pleasantness is sorrow.
If there is no shadow
There will be no ray.
Both compliments each other..
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Joy and Sorrow chapter VIII
Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Happiness May Come Later....
there is always
a sorrow inside us
do not be shy
say a little
we, men, do not want
to tell about this sorrow
women know that
but just like us they are not saying anything
it is this respect for sorrow
that makes it dignified
well kept,
well minded, but never spoken
when you share it with someone else
what good will it give her?
she has also her own sorrow
inside her
no matter how well dressed
no one wants to take it
it is the dignity of sorrow
to be silent and just be itself
it will always be here
waiting for her sister.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Herbert Marshall
All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me
Sprang from your delusion that it was wantonness
Of spirit and contempt of your soul's rights
Which made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you.
You really grew to hate me for love of me,
Because I was your soul's happiness,
Formed and tempered
To solve your life for you, and would not.
But you were my misery. If you had been
My happiness would I not have clung to you?
This is life's sorrow:
That one can be happy only where two are;
And that our hearts are drawn to stars
Which want us not.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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B: XVI: Fear In Sorrow
Sorrow must like
putting itself on show.
Yet you never see it all.
It doesn't have that winning drive
and keeps some back to stay alive,
afraid that saying, 'All is sorrow',
would spell the end to morrow.
'I have no illusions, friend, '
said sorrow, knowing everything.
'I will give you some relief
from the unknown deep.
Tonight I'll give you dreamless sleep.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Supposing Tomorrow
Whenever I think of the supposing tomorrow
I think of a day without pain and sorrow
Where all bright ray and sunshine
Will appear as all yours and mines
Where all the skies will be free of clouds
And all men's heart will be free of doubts
And every one will be given the share
Of joy and sorrow, smile and tear
And there I wish in the supposing tomorrow
Everyone will be ready to lend and borrow
the flowers of the blooming smile
And fains new ways and bright styles
Where no one will be left alone to sigh
Or fight with sorrow's place taht're high
And no one will be forced to lay
Sorrow's brick one by one with the hay
And I wish I can live taht long
So I can also recieve with song
The day when there'll be no pain and sorrow
Yes ofcourse I'm talking of the supposing tomorrow.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Love - Evening of Sorrow
Walking down the hospital corridors
Startled and terrified
The feeling hasn't sunk in
Sulking like a little boy without Milk
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
Her Memories Loom
The lustrous Smile on her face
Used to tear down sorrow and grief
Her refulgent Eyes
The future looked sunny and bright
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
She took away the Anger
And turned it into Cheer
Every moment with her
Was a carnival of Joy
Her Purity and grace
Sanity and maturity
Taught me,
to be benevolent and kind
Her thoughts brought tears
Why Her, Why not me?
Will take torment and torture
pass through fire and Ice
SO that she can come back to me
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
The room was closed
Curtains on the Glass door
Waiting anxiously
put up a stern face
hope against hope
All for Love
The wait was getting unbearable
The doors Open
A hug but No smile
THE Heart beat faster than a Race horse
Happiness and Fear hit me at once
closer to visibility
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
There she was
with a smile on her face
I looked up to the Sky
And said Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa
The grace from above
brought tears of Joy
Held her hands
tightly as I could
Sorrow and pain Left me
Tears continued flowing
She just smiled
Smile on, Smile on
poem by Jithu Varghese
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In the spirit of Rumi - 20
I sang to My Beloved
O My Beloved –
how could I sing of the joy
of being closer to You
than Your breath…
than Your eyes…
than Your lips…
if Sorrow had not visited me? …
In the middle of the darkest night
in the cold midwinter of the heart,
a stranger knocked upon my door:
it was Sorrow, wrapped in blackest cloak.
I greeted Sorrow; bade come in;
ate bread with Sorrow and drank wine with it;
then with a smile, sent Sorrow on its way.
Now the sun has risen,
the dawn is like a world made new
and I have woken fresh
as if I had already washed.
[this one comes with a smile for Allie, who occasioned it...]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Singing Sorrowful Song
Why hearts all sing sorrowful ditties,
Why nightmares torment dreams pretty,
Why sorrow revels in fate’s kitty,
Why sorrow humbles joy’s uppity,
Why sorrow questions joy’s sanity,
Why sorrow encroach joy’s city,
Why sorrow disrobes nubile pity,
Why hearts all sing sorrowful ditties.
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
04/01/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Research on child abuse suggests that religious beliefs can foster, encourage, and justify the abuse of children. When contempt for sex underlies teachings, this creates a breeding ground for abuse.
quote by Mary Garden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is the action of an uninstructed person to reproach others for his own misfortune; of one entering instruction, to reproach himself; and one perfectly instructed, to reproach neither others nor himself.
Epictetus in Enchiridion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A way to end
These sorrows I had thought forgotten
Now I feel my hope has rotten
So shortly lived and quick to die
Or perhaps it found its wings to fly
To another soul who thought to borrow
A way to end this pain and sorrow
A short-lived victor in happy times
Until he returns to write his lines
Of a life that seems so cold to him
For he's never to go home again
Now he feels that he is hollow
Left with only pain and sorrow
There is no escape for him he fears
Drowning himself in his tears
It seems an ocean that he's made
He shakes, he knows that he's afraid
Because he'll never see tommorrow
It's hard to live with pain and sorrow
poem by Robert Sierra
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Drowing, not Smiling
Sorrow deepens as the waves
engulve the land.
I perch on thet forest floor and cry.
Water flows out of my view.
Birds deliberatly sit at the edge of my sorrow-
as dogs lick my sorrow away.
And i fly with the wind
like ghosts whom stare out
in the open sky.
Shortly the land beyond is covered
with tears of my soul.
I drowned in sorrow,
and soon the water evaporates
with the sun.
As i lie on my back
the unclouded eyes,
smiled joyously;
traces of sorrow were
to be found, on my soul-
yet i felt free, uplifted:
and i was not drowning-
but smiling.
poem by Celine Berghmans
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Maiora Premunt
greater things
indeed are pressing
pain is but
another ingredient
of genius
sorrow is its song
lament its language
death its perfection
at the end is the
glory
of our redemption!
so cheer up!
Young man
grab the pain
take all the sorrow
it is all your gain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Sorrow
In sorrow
She mourns her beloved son
What's next to follow
No one knows
In sorrow
He mourns his beloved daughter
What's next to follow
His heart is hollow
In sorrow
She mourns her beloved husband
What's next to follow
She is now a widow
In sorrow
He mourns his beloved wife
What's next to follow
His desire for life is renounced to zero
In sorrow
They mourn the passing of a dear friend
Someone they wished to be there tomorrow
It hurts without pretext, whatever sorrow sends
And we know and I know
Sorrow returns not the life's it borrows
Sorrow is a walking deadly shadow
Sorrow is the virus we dread tomorrow
Sorrow is the devils spell of lethal horrors
Therefore my dear fellows
In sorrow no more I mourn her sorrow
In sorrow
I have closed on her all my doors and windows
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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