Wedlock…
A solitary door of the mind,
The charming door of memories
Of the erstwhile life, obsessed
Always with grief, if closed;
Always with woes, even if opened.
It’s a poem, written by the heart;
Love’s nectar is its language.
If its meaning is misconceived
If no spelling mistakes, creep up
If omissions and errors, are avoided
It becomes an epic; Matrimony is a mega epic!
Is there a song sung without discord?
Any dances without a faulty step?
Inaccuracy, miscalculation, blunder.
Slip, oversight, delusion, all may occur.
Rhythm may falter, steps may alter,
But the swirl will continue, till the end
When the course is corrected at times,
In the current of the song of life!
Paint the faded pictures of wedlock, with
Ever fresh sparkling colours of endurance;
Like rains and spring seasons wash away
The sins of summer and its debris
As omnipresent Time by its omnipotence.
poem by Kunjubi Varghese
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Related quotes
Death of an Unknown Poet
An epic,
written by a brilliant mind
like Van Gogh,
underappreciated.
The poet dies in a squalid flat,
penniless and alone.
His lifes' work-
fantasmic verses of a visionary-
are all stuffed post-humously
into a box.
His genius,
mistaken for useless scribble,
is discarded like so much riff-raff.
It decays, forgotten.
Years pass.
The epic masterpiece alone survives
in that box filled with scraps of faded ink.
A single heart-wrenching poem,
now loved by millions,
by a now-mourned author
who's name evaporated, forgotten by time.
An epic
written by
Anonymous.
(15 minute poem challenge)
poem by Meggan McGuire
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Epic Smile
Time slows;
then stops.
You have an epic smile,
shining brightly to challenge the sun.
You laugh with your soul,
eyes sparkling in the light.
You have an epic smile,
one I will never forget.
My heart leaps at your voice,
a smile shattering the gloom of life.
You have an epic smile,
brighter than a thousand suns.
I will think of you often,
though truthfully I already do.
You have an epic smile, my muse,
one that will always be with me.
poem by Brian Hinckley
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When Are They Mistakes?
Mistakes are not mistakes till noticed.
Errors are not errors till corrected.
Wrongs are not wrongs till realized.
Sins are not sins till repented.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It would be me
It would be me
Not anybody else
Dear my family, dear my friend
It would be me to live my life
Not anybody else
Though someone I adore
Though someone I really want to be
It would be me who decide my path
Not anybody else
Through my dream, through my hatred
Through my power, through my shame
If I say ‘yes’ some door will be opened, some closed
It would be me which way I choose
If I say ‘no’ some door will be opened anyway, some closed
Not anybody else who face my test
If I ‘m confused some will hurt or gone, some will take a time
Though someone replaces me, though someone is better
It would be me
Not anybody else
Who live now, who breathe this time
In this body, in this mind, with this soul
It would be me
Not anybody else
Though I go hiding somewhere, don’t know what to do anyway
I should live, I would continue my life as long as I still breathe
It would be me
Not anybody else
Who live my life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Till The Last Song Is Sung
TILL THE LAST SONG IS SUNG
You’re welcome to stay
Please don’t go away
We’re open till
The last song is sung
There’s dancing on the floor
We won’t close the door
You can leave tips at the bar
The walk isn’t far
After the last song
Is sung
We’re just up the street
A place where you can plant your feet
Where the drinks are so good
You can’t remember where you stood
You can leave if you like
Be careful on the pike
Remember you came here for fun
Till the last song is sung
4/20/08
poem by Paul Klobusicky
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A Song Thats Sung..
A song that's sung
tells more than a story
a song that's sung
is sung from the heart
a song that's sung
is a story from the soul
a song that's sung
is the greatest love
a song that's sung
is a give from above
a song that's sung
is an emotion in a melody
a song that's sung
can be whatever you want it to be
a song that's sung
can have a million meanings
a song that's sung
is a diary of emotions...
poem by Emily Summers
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Life is a song
Life is a song,
Sing it your Way,
Sing your heart out,
Sing it to God.
Life is a song,
When I play my guitar,
Let my guitar sings along the way,
My life is an angel when I live in eternity.
Life is a song,
Follow the rhythm,
Follow the heart beat,
Follow the time signature and instinct.
Life is a song,
When seasons come and go,
When we down and happy, ,
When we lonely and alone.
Life is a song,
Never bore with it,
Never let it passes by,
Instead compose it your way,
The way you love to sing your song.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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To Correct An Error
an error is an error
and errors exist for the main reason that
they are meant to be corrected
it takes the eyes of the loving person
to correct the errors
of his beloved
gently and
carefully away from the mob
and the crowd that love
the mockery
of errors corrected in the middle
of the public halls
inside a closed door
i hold your hand
caress your face
and your hair
and kiss you and then tell you
you taste like a rotten apple.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hard Times
(stephen foster)
Let us pause in lifes pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor.
Theres a song that will linger forever in our ears,
Oh, hard times, come again no more
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay.
There are frail forms fainting at the door
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
Theres a pale drooping maiden who foils her life away
With a worn out heart, whose better days are oer.
Though her voice it would be merry, tis sighing all the day,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A glimpse
a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe
inspired by
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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No Fixed Address
what did I get by touching the womb of life
what comes and what goes
the tears I cried
came back as a mystic smile of life
the love sick tune of the nightingale
the burning midnight
just like a violin in tune
no nothing is left inside
I wear a song in my torn heart
loneliness o loneliness
i wear the ornament of desire
in the wide awake nights
what did I get?
what sheds and what blooms
whatever I have lost
become a malicious smell of past
I'm defeated and I lose
i build and i lose
I break and i lose
then what did I get? ?
the roots of the cut
putting it where it pains most
the mourn song of the sunbeams
and these sweet sour and bitter moments
life is not an epic
neither I'm a epic character
i just play in one scene and die in the other
yet still I put the touch of Midas
in womb of life
and I enjoy the days of self proclaimed exile
time snatched away spring from me
and never returned it back
may be some day death will take
me away to return back to life
I'm waiting! ! !
poem by Jyotishman Debnath
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Hard Times
1. let us pause in lifes pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor.
Theres a song that will linger forever in our ears,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
2. while we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay.
There are frail forms fainting at the door.
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
3. theres pale drooping maiden who foils her life away
With a worn out heart, whose better days are oer.
Though her voice it would be merry, tis sighing all the day,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Singing
I’m Singing…
I’m Singing a New Song…
Deep Inside my Heart…
It’s a Song…that is different from any other song I have sung before…
It is a Song of…
A Song of Hope,
A Song of Love,
A Song of Fate,
A Song of Peace,
A Song of Friendship,
A Song of Family,
A Song of Life,
A Song of Healing,
A Song of Strength,
A Song of Courage,
A Song of Light,
A Song of Flight…
My Heart is beginning to Soar…
I’m finally starting to Fly…
I’m Singing…
poem by Bleeding Heart
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You Say
The letters started goodbye
You say
It is better to be this way
Tell me it is just only a dream
When I wake up,
You will be here next to me
You say
There is someone new in your life
My heart burn like a soften candle
You could have at least lied
Where did it go? How does it end?
Sitting by the fire we made
Crumbling the letters that you gave
I will not be ashamed to admit
That I really hurt inside
They say time will dry the tears
You say
These tears could heal my broken heart
I know I must leave you now
But goodbye is hard for me to let go
Just one thing I would asked
If you have to changed your heart
You say
The world return and the seasons change
My heart says we got something to win
But you say,
Our love will not last for a lifetime
You say
I should stop on what I believe
I can’t believe what I have just heared
If only time stood still
I would paint our memories of love
All the lessons that we have learned
In these pieces of my broken heart
You say
Memories are faded away
Like a broken, glass that never completely again
You say
Id rather hear the truth
Than hurt me with a lie
I collect the puzzle of our love
That it is the only thing I can do
But my heart cannot breathe
When I hear, you say
Its better this way
Hope you will understand
How much you meant to me
I try to put the melodies back in your heart
But you say,
The music will never keep playing
You say
The story of our love has ended
In this world always come to an end
Like a movie theater plays on stage
Like a song with no rhythm
An empty page, no words to be written
You say
Just look at rain pour from the sky
And there is a rainbow on that end
Then tomorrow I will know how to let you go
You say
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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A Philosophy In Life
when you read that poem about deleting Maureen
i regret to have given you the wrong spelling for delet...
i know it lacks an e.
but i do not wish to delet it anymore or even edit it.
i have this philosophy in life you know
do not go back
leave all your tracks as they were once made
do not edit life
let them see how mistakes were made and how they need not be corrected
simply because you know that
people are patient and they understand the common ground of our humanity
errors, not eros.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alone, Writing A Poem With A Song
I was alone listening to a love/sad song
Searching, thinking ideas with imagination
To create a story in a form of a poem
Holding my pen and start writing it down
Since I like the lyrics with meaning so i sing along
Imagine life living alone with only a song
No one to talks to wh hears my opinion
Through song I express my emotion
Writing a poem which replies all my questions
And share to people that would give inspiration.
While writing a poem with a sad song
Something came across my mind
Remembered those things I had in my past
Which never get lost, I hate it but it last
My life which is filled with sufferings, I wish it would cast.
Alone, writing a poem with a sad song
My eyes covered by tears and let it fall
I cried and shout out loud to ease my pain
Just like a cloudy sky and pours as rain.
I keep on repeating the whole song till I finished my poem
Feared to forget the words and its definition
I happened to memorize the lyrics and become a favourite
A song that has been part of my life
And makes me live though I am alone.
eplies
poem by Judith Kempis
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Epic Poem
This poem is epic
so I named it so
it's more epic than wind and snow
which are in there own respects quite epic
snow could be described as ghetto
and wind can take on epic forms
like a spinning tiger with legs made of iron bars
that would be pretty epic
infact I think that happened in outer mongolia
to a young girl how got hit by the iron bars
sadly she died
but the type of death was one we all wish for
over exposure to pure epicness
like viewing a snail with a lightsaber who flies over mountains made of cheese
that's bleedin' epic
imagine it if you can
can you?
I imagined it so according to the ontological arguement
it exists
im scared now
it may be coming to get me
and although I will suffer the best kind of death
it will be death still
and what is death without life
it is simply death
that was mock epic
those statements aren't as deep as you think they are
they are meerly the ramblings of a crazy man
you fell for it did you not
I know you did for I can see you
your PC moniter is actually a camera
If you're paranoid then you will be scared now
and for that reason I laugh
I can see your fear
I smell it
it is like raspberry ripple ice cream
your fear is wierd
I don't like you anymore
this poem is bleedin' epic!
poem by Torben Duncan
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Findings and Losings (Song from the Madman)
One day I opened a book and it happened that it showed me strange things,
said it there stays some love for me in you, , , ,
, , , , , Moments passed of mistaken amazement
for a little while later i realised that i the book was upside down when I opened it that day,
and that I opened it from the end.
Somethings how strange they are, best found only when lost,
sometimes even forever.
Some clouds have appeared as visitors over the sky of life.
And I watch a few drops of rain wander this way and that between them, ,
this way and that...
Those few drops I wonder must have lost their way
among the clouds which have appeared over the sky of life as visitors...
Lost is not always the destination which is reached through lost roads.
It does not fit the seasons to end the way they do...
Some letters of spring always remain incomplete,
and sometimes though complete without the address...
Some songs of autumn go unheard, , ,
some moments of winter remain unheld.
It does not fit the seasons to end the way they do.....
Someday if the road shows signs of no more, ,
the traveller often wonders what shall be the words of his last song, , ,
shall they mean that he carried a pair of eyes always in his heart
and that they never let him to be lone, , ,
Or they will be jus a mad man's song...
meaning nothing and yet about so many
findings and losings of life......
The Songs of the Seasons
The Winter song was lost to him
The Summer song grieved to him
The Spring song whispered death to him
The Autumn song was news to him
For four seasons life went on
As the weather of the world died on
poem by Taylor Scherer
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My Song
I have no song
But still I sing
I let my voice
Fly on wing
For even though
My heart is bare
I have a song
Yet to spare
The song I sing
It has not one word
But far and wide
It's ever heard
My song is
Universal see
Song of wild
Always free
Sung by many
Sung by one
Sung beneath
A dying sun
Song of joy
Yet song of pain
Song of long nights
In the rain
Song of battles
Song of strife
Song of death
But also life
I'll sing untill
I have no breath
And then I'll sing
My song in death
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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