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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Related quotes
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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Unknown Grief
Unknown Grief
Mark Kelly Wassenaar (AKA Wazzy)
You never expect to know the word grief
Until it comes to you
It comes in, like a thief
Then you take a critical review
Who really knows what grief is
It could be you, or me, or your teddy bear
If only we could see his
Come with me, I’ll give you a dare
All I ask is that you’ll see
What grief does to you and me
Maybe at the end we’ll all agree
That it need not be all for thee
Have you seen death of one or more
Have they been of love or worse
Does it cause a whole body war
Does it put you in a hearse
If all these apply to you
Maybe you know what grief may be
All this time you withdrew
It makes you feel like abductees
If you like, you may join my cause
Get together with your bands
To end all grief within our paws
To clear our enemy from our hands
poem by Mark Wazzy
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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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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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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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The Cup Of Grief
We're born alone, and so we die,
Alone, no use to fuss or moan-
Each living thing must face the truth:
We drink our cup of grief, alone.
The smallest mite will feel the pangs
Of discipline, and hearts of stone,
Revenge exacted, full, complete:
He drinks his cup of grief, alone.
The older ones learn all too soon
There is not long one can postpone
The common lot of man and beast:
They drink their cup of grief, alone.
All creatures born, at last confront
There be no pardon or atone
For random guilt that living brings:
They drink then that last cup, alone.
by, Evan Williams
poem by Shirts Williams
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Dark Trinity
Said I to Pain: "You would not dare
Do ill to me."
Said Pain: "Poor fool! Why should I care
Whom you may be?
To clown and king alike I bring
My meed of bane;
Why should you shirk my chastening?"
Said Pain.
Said I to Grief: "No tears have I,
Go on your way."
Said Grief: "Why should I pass you by,
While others pay?
All men must know the way of woe,
From saint to thief,
And tears were meant to overflow,"
Said Grief.
Said I to Death: "From ail and fret
Grant me relief."
Said Death: "I know you are beset
By Pain and Grief.
But my good will you must await
Since human breath
To suffering is consecrate,"
Said Death.
Said I to God: "Pale Sister Grief,
Bleak Brother Pain,
Bedevil me beyond belief,
And Death's unfain . . ."
Said God: "Curse not that blessed Three,
Poor human clod!
Have faith! Believe the One with Me,"
Said God.
poem by Robert William Service
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Words for Sergeant Dakota Meyer, USMC – CMH
Someday when your construction job has helped you heal
I hope through google and the further mystery of the internet
These words will find you
The President did not speak falsely
In your dark valley you are far from alone
Your comrades - living and dead – are not alone
Indeed a nation grieves with you
Your truth is proofed
Your honor is secure
You are not alone
You are not alone
The medal is our grief
It is not your grief
Keep your grief – keep your grief
It will heal you
It will heal you
Keep your grief
The Medal is a souvenir from a place
Where there are no shops
poem by Bill Grace
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Rubaiyat 40
O divider of heaven and hell bring relief,
Don’t let us give in to our grief.
How long upon our lives you prey?
Why don’t you hunt our lives’ thief?
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
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For those in mind
Death
is too late for grief.
If we had celebrated their living
knowing that grief would surely come
then grief would have a place;
death
is too late for grief.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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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Last Hour
Here's the army
That you mowed to the ground
And the bodies you left lying around
Talking it out
The last hour
I'm through trying now
It's a big relief
I'll be staying down
Where no-one else gonna give me grief
Mess me around
Just make it over
Your opinion was the law of the land
A single thing that I couldn't always understand
I lived it out from hour to hour
The only thing that never really changed
You ran me all around
And dragged me down
At the end of the day
Don't keep me around
Just make it over
I've been thinking of the things that I missed
Situations that I passed up for this
One way love I took for ours
I'm through trying now
It's a big relief
I'll be staying down
I wasn't good at being a thief
More like a clown
Make it over
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untamed Grief
What comes out of grief dissected, I ask
When it’s mutualised for its pain to mask
Does it settle down like blown dust?
Or disappear like sun rays at dusk
What transcends from grief suppressed?
Does it fly away like a raven?
Or it stealthily searches for another haven
In the subconscious of the beholder
What proceeds from grief deferred?
Does it abscond like the morning dew?
Or it keeps on gnawing like a tumour
And denying a soul of all humour
What incarnates from grief embellished?
Does it pierce like a sword?
Or it exterminates softly without a word
Grief is the reality of life
But shouldn’t eternally blanket a soul with strife
And though every life is garlanded with petals of grief
The stint of its tears ought to be brief
So the taste of living can always be rife!
poem by Valerian Mwenda
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What old sadness can I let go of by sharing it today
How can we measure the grief we feel and and how we could put up with it. Doesn't the grief of death weight a ton or more. Doesn't it strenth out to a month a year or still longer. Is the grief of failture lighter then then the grief of empyness. Wheather we try to ingore or make light of it our grief like a ton of feathers or a ton of rocks is all the same to us. This much is sure if we lock our grief it will weight more on us. Andlengthen out if we open our hearts with weeping and words others will help carry it away. written and Posted 1/1/10
poem by Susie Sunshine
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The Lost Treasure
Start anything you do with name of only God (Allah)
Our sustenance comes from God alone
Forget all the worries that encumber you
Trust in God and no one can hurt you
When you need help
Turn only to God
Always rely on God, the Merciful
Only God can turn a desert into a benign torrent
Even if your heart is burning with grief
Only God can grant you relief
You may suffer life's misfortune
But with a heart filled with faith
A dream of the prophet Muhammad(saw) with grant you peace
And if you are patient you earn God's pleasure
And he will wash away your sadness
Caught in the darkness of grief,
Turn to God and repent for your relief
If God wills you to visit his house(Mosque)
And you attain the honor of
praying next to the prophet Muhammad's(saw) grave.
Whom would you praise and give thanks to,
For all blessings, but God
Wed,17, March,2010
poem by Lateef Jan Afridi Ab.latif jan
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Real relief
So long as the low race feels stigmatized
No racial parity by law gives relief.
So long as housewives feel stigmatized
No woman empowerment gives relief.
So long as free women feel stigmatized
No sexual freedom would give any relief.
Only when their opponents feel stigmatized
For their attitudes, relief would be in reality.
18.07.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Between Grief And Nothing
Between grief and nothing some will take grief,
but those who take nothing will surely regret
that they can’t be robbed in good time, that’s a thief,
of memories grief cannot make them forget.
In Jean-Paul Godard’s “Breathless” Patricia Clarke, whose short hair is like that of Marion Amsellem whom someone once accused of being a lesbian although, as someone said at her funeral today, “She hasn’t got a gay bone in her body, ” asks Jean-Paul Belmondo, who is lying in her hotel bedroom smoking a cigarette, of course, and trying to screw her for the third time in his life: “Do you know William Faulkner? ” “No, ” he replies. “Have you slept with him? ” “No, ” she replies, and adds, “He is a writer, and I want to read you something from “The Wild Palms.” And she reads aloud: “Between grief and nothing I will take grief.”
5/20/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Living Hurts
I hear the singing of the birds…
I feel the sun on my face…
I am alive…
Turn to the morning news two babies murdered…
Living Hurts…
Walking in the park after dark…
The moon so very bright…
Then here comes that thief of the night…
Living Hurts…
Laughing and smiling with my boo…
Something we are expected to do…
Then out of nowhere, the dare…
Whip, bam, boom…
An arguments to soon…
Living Hurts…
Life is really to short…
It is a very good sport…
So lets just all get along…
Make love and smile…
Touch and run free…
Living Hurts…
Out of all of the warmhearted things…
This world has to offer…
It's final offer is death…
Love while you can….
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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U Thief, U Stole My Heart
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the grief, i am torn all apart
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the brief encounter, i should have known it would b
bad from the start
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the relief, i don't have 2 let u in, I guess even though
i will b lonely, i win
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the belief, y do i dare, y do i even care
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the mischief, i saw the signs, but i chose not 2 read
between the lines
U thief, U stole my heart
Like the falling leaf, i will just have 2 make a new start
poem by Wendy A. Bartko
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Thecom
you choose your fate is grief is what I feel when someone passes away grief is what I feel when i' am concerned grief what I when i have done wrong grief is what I feel when some accident happens
poem by Brandon Edwards
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