Something Like This
somehow let your eye
lashes meet with my
lashes
let all your tears
adorn my eye lashes
you have stayed with me
thru all moments + times
yes, this body sometimes far
sometimes stays close
whatever sorrow you have
tell them about me
i do not like to see
this sorrow on your face
it does not not seen possible
to have a bond of sorrow
with you
listen to my request
remove that from your
face.
poem by Sagar Patil.
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Seeping out of my heart
I stare at myself at the eye
I could only see the sadness swelling into a space so dry
I collide my lashes then gaze
My look was ablaze
Deep within patrols me a sorrow so hollow
That I deny to follow
A sorrow since times ago
A little slice then a little more it came to grow
Even if my eyes remain that dry
I was helpless to ban my heart to cry
For nobody else
But me
poem by Darkness Herself
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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
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
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sorrow Plays Through Me
An instrument of sorrow
Sorrow doth strum
The strings of my soul
And beat mine heart her drum
Sorrow weeps through me
And in me she seek
Love, enchantment and expression
So mine eyes leek
Thine tears, thou tears, mine tears
To water the joyous earth
With the sorrow of truth
And to new sorrow give birth
Sorrow, sweet, melancholic
Which adorn mine face with rain falls
Of power, of strength, filled with beauty
Surpassing human walls.
Pouring out of me,
For mine eyes to see
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Shipmate Sorrow
I was shipmates with Sorrow in a day gone by;
We shared the wheel and look-out, old Sorrow and I:
Good times and bad times, foul weather and fair,
The old grey face of him was always there.
There was never shanty raised there, never song I heard,
But his voice would be in it like a crying bird;
I was dull in the dog watches when the laugh went free
Because of old Sorrow sitting down by me.
I thought I could lose him in the stir and change
Of bright wicked cities all sunlit and strange;
There came a hand at my elbow and a voice in my ear -
It was patient Sorrow saying: 'Lad, I'm here!'
And by the bustling harbour, up the busy street,
Many a time I see him, many a time I meet
The old grey face there of one I used to know . . .
And it's old shipmate Sorrow out of long ago.
And the watch at the halliards, they may sing with a will,
But the voice I used to hear, oh I think I hear it still,
Like the wind in a shroud piping, or a seabird's cry . . .
And it's old Sorrow singing out of times gone by!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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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.
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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As We Face New Tomorrows
tears may come in sorrow
give us strength like a friend
when we release emotions
mind cannot carry
body cannot bear
heart cannot hide
tears may come in sorrow
like a friend make us strong
as we face new tomorrows
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Sonnet Upon The Pitiful Burning Of The Globe Playhouse In
Now sit thee down, Melpomene,
Wrapp'd in a sea-coal robe,
And tell the doleful tragedy
That late was play'd at Globe;
For no man that can sing and say
But was scar'd on St. Peter's Day.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
All you that please to understand,
Come listen to my story,
To see Death with his raking brand
'Mongst such an auditory;
Regarding neither Cardinal's might,
Nor yet the rugged face of Henry the Eight.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
This fearful fire began above,
A wonder strange and true,
And to the stage-house did remove,
As round as tailor's clew;
And burnt down both beam and snag,
And did not spare the silken flag.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
Out run the knights, out run the lords,
And there was great ado;
Some lost their hats and some their swords,
Then out run Burbage too;
The reprobates, though drunk on Monday,
Prayed for the fool and Henry Condye.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
The periwigs and drum-heads fry,
Like to a butter firkin;
A woeful burning did betide
To many a good buff jerkin.
Then with swoll'n eyes, like drunken Flemings,
Distressed stood old stuttering Hemings.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
...
Be warned, you stage strutters all,
Lest you again be catched,
And such a burning do befall
As to them whose house was thatched;
Forbear your whoring, breeding biles,
And lay up that expense for tiles.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
Go draw you a petition,
And do you not abhor it,
And get, with low submission,
A license to beg for it
In churches, sans churchwardens' checks,
In Surrey and in Middlesex.
Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Sorrow blue
Of sorrow blue, and life in the mist
Nights in the shadows of a dream
Of sorrow blue, I’m losing the rest
Of my life, drowned in the stream
With the sunset that bites my heart
I can not help but to feel alone & cold
Of sorrow blue, I am just a part
I’m not me, to the dark my soul was sold
In sorrow and blues, hours like days
Like year, years as salty as our tears
Rusted faces form old lives, in many ways
Reminds me of lost hopes and living fears
Sorrow blue, moments before the dawn
That is when we part ways like old friends
With the sunrise, I am no longer a pawn
For my sorrow, no longer worried about the ends
Every day there is a Rendez-Vous
With my inner self and my eternal fall
With the other me, my sorrow blue
Every day, I will pick up the sorrow’s call
poem by Haytem Fakroun
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Bitter-Sweet Memories
Sorrow played its melodies,
sometimes slow, sometimes fast,
happiness coming and passing,
Sorrows never long-lasting.
Until a day, like no other day,
a heart-stopping blow
reduced me to tears of unending
flow.
Sorrow knew no boundaries,
endless tears brought no relief,
but flourished in their salted grief.
As time went by,
Sorrow wore a gentler face,
a blameless one I could embrace.
Sometimes slow and achingly sad,
sometimes fast, brimming with joy,
Sorrow plays its bitter-sweet memories
of long-ago.
poem by Elke Nigro
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The Clown’s Sorrow
Sorrow wrapping his face,
Sat a man in a park.
An old man got to him
And made a chat with him.
He suggested to him,
‘Go to the circus yonder
And watch the clown’s action.
You can forget your sorrow
And have a heart-full laugh’
‘I am the very clown’
Said the man in sorrow.
The one who makes others
Laugh can very well wear sorrow.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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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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Love and Tragedy
Yes, I have loved with love
that was more than love
more than love,
Drove myself mad with this love
with this love,
Hoping to catch a glimpse of my love
my love,
Just seeing was not enough for me
seeing my love
my love,
So I met her, my true love,
And so true it was.
Yes, I married this girl with joy
with joy,
The splendid sense of so much joy
so much joy,
And I felt so much,
My heart melt,
melt with all my joy,
my joy,
Going to sleep with her, my true joy,
And so true it was.
Yes, I watched this girl die with sorrow
my sorrow,
The fire that did it also ignited my sorrow
my sorrow,
And there was nothing to console this sorrow
this sorrow,
my sorrow,
Even still into tomorrow,
No cope in hope to borrow,
so I stayed in sorrow,
my sorrow,
Going to sleep without my love,
my true sorrow,
And so true it was.
Yes, I heard those gruesome tolls alone
just me alone,
I stood looking at her stone while alone
so alone,
Minding on what to do, now that I'm alone,
alone,
so alone,
Listening to the bells of malicious tones,
Those horrifying, loud drones,
Those dreadful, terrible moans,
Those agonizing, tumultuous groans,
Of so many people who are also alone
just like me alone,
No one left, no one here,
I was happy once, but now I hear
The toll of those bells alone
so alone,
And my joy and my love,
Is now so far above,
Leaving me here so alone
alone,
May I hope she rests in peace,
Even through my pain's increase of sorrow
At least until tomorrow,
Where I will still be alone, truly alone,
And so true it still is.
poem by Andy Greenwald
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Day Will Come
(Barry Mason)
[A side of Columbia DB 7766, 1965]
The day will come when out of empty space
A flash of fire will light the children's face
Hopelessly, their last tears they will cry
Be too late to ask our leaders why
The day will come, a day of sorrow
A day we'll see them strollin' out to tomorrow.
The song of life that once we knew so well
Will not be heard as we're led into hell
Death is close, yes I can see the sign
And down your street the blood will flow like wine
The day will come, a day of sorrow
A day we'll see them strollin' out tomorrow
The day will come and swallow up the sun
We can't escape, we've got nowhere to run
The generals must be found some work to do
The medals must be bought by me and you, yeah
The day will come of pain and sorrow
And we'll see them strollin' out tomorrow
The day will come
The day will come
The day will come
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Will Come
(barry mason)
[a side of columbia db 7766, 1965]
The day will come when out of empty space
A flash of fire will light the childrens face
Hopelessly, their last tears they will cry
Be too late to ask our leaders why
The day will come, a day of sorrow
A day well see them strollin out to tomorrow.
The song of life that once we knew so well
Will not be heard as were led into hell
Death is close, yes I can see the sign
And down your street the blood will flow like wine
The day will come, a day of sorrow
A day well see them strollin out tomorrow
The day will come and swallow up the sun
We cant escape, weve got nowhere to run
The generals must be found some work to do
The medals must be bought by me and you, yeah
The day will come of pain and sorrow
And well see them strollin out tomorrow
The day will come
The day will come
The day will come
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Bring Me Back My Eyes
Bring me back my eyes,
For I shall behold
All colours of the universe.
I shall captivate
The galaxies in my eyes,
And steal all colours of roses
To adorn my countenance.
I shall behold
How the pang of separation
Inscribes lines on the forehead,
How love makes
Hermits the kings,
And union fills
The eyes with stars.
I shall behold
How tears dropp
From the lashes when one weeps,
And if one laughs impulsively
How pink roses
Bloom instantly on the lips.
I shall behold
Why the snakes complain
Against the lady of night,
How the petals uncatch themselves
From the flowerer-flies,
Why the butterflies become
Gloomy seeing the flowers,
Who wrote all the mysteries
On the chest of mother Earth.
I yearn to pick
All seasons with the lashes.
O! My love,
You keep the reality with yourself,
But only once show me a dream
Though glimmering
Like a tiny glow-worm.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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