Best Grieve Poems


Do Not Grieve Your Muse

(For My Younger Self)



You have forgotten your muse.
You neglected her, in the hustle and bustle
of city life, in trying to carve a niche,
driving yourself too hard -
thinking it could make you rich.

She grieves.
Don’t you see her? She grieves.
How she longs to reunite with you
but you are far too busy, with everything new.
Too unmindful, too steeped in the practical
your change was so radical;
Too pragmatic, everything has become automatic.  
You have lost touch with your muse, 
no matter how she pleads you have become obtuse.
When will you reach into the softer, 
more introspective part of yourself?  
Please do not say, never.

Remember how you would write through the night
and people around you would wonder why…
Those moments were priceless, 
the times you communed with words so ageless
as you poured onto paper all your emotions -
In the night, you would write of happiness and pain,
of a young love, and of your simple dreams.

Go back to those simple dreams.
Do not allow yourself to be lost 
in the conundrum that is Life.
Step back, take stock, be still.
Find time for meditation, there is no condemnation
for those who acknowledge the need for salvation.
And as you find that inner peace, 
write once more.
Write, and write some more.  
Set free all those words that have long been kept
within your heart…the happy words, the sad words,
words both simple and intricate
that a reader will enjoy as he masticates
the meaning, the lesson, the joy and young wisdom.

Let your words dance…let your words s o a r !






31 October 2015
Poem of the Day 01 November 2015
Awarded 1st Place  -  What Would You Say Contest
© Kp Nunez  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member No Limit To How Long We Grieve

when you let go of my hand
you let go of my heart

as I stumbled and crumbled
life seemed to have paused
silent screams
raged inside

but I was just numb

heart beating in slow motion
life became strange

and

i thought it would make sense 
when the pain subsided
but there is no limit
to how long we grieve

and they say
don't let them in
those crazy thoughts
but they echoed and echoed
until i lost my mind
and its worse
when alone 
haunted by
profound whispers

and

all I wanted
was an angel
to find me
to not give up on me

but nothing

and now
ive lost all faith
in humanity

and 

still im alone
but now drifitng
to a place
i don't want to be

yearning for oxygen

and

no one can catch me

because
when you let go of my hand
you let go of my heart

Simple Musings
Silent One
15 September 2017
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

I Grieve a Dream

You are the tear that follows me
the ache within my soul
the bitter-sweet that sings to me
my heart you came and stole

You are a dream beyond my reach
a wish I can not touch
it breaks my heart to be so close
for I love you far too much

You are a kiss I can't make real
a whisper never spoken
a cherished thought that stays asleep
a smile lying broken

You are the one I can not have 
no matter how it pains
my dream for which I sit and grieve
a shadow that remains

You are the sun that has to set
our time just couldn't last
I need to wait for the dawn to break
while I mourn for is past.

'1st poem on poetry soup contest'
6th place

Brian strand's 'One off contest'
1st place


Premium Member In Whispering Mists, Dying Gods There Grieve

In Whispering Mists, Dying Gods There Grieve

Within Shadows casting forth in blackened glow,
secret havens hide in heaps of aged dust,
there beastly beasts born and wickedly grow
far beneath a granite hardened evil crust.

Within corridors in ancient temples Time waits
for the golden winds of Loves renewed trust
sealed up fast and tight, their heavy gates,
holding back those deaths found to be unjust.

In whispering mists, dying Gods there grieve
there time now sadly wasted and ill spent
sifting Love's gems through golden sieves,
they see far too late, what human Life truly meant.

What of legendary Gods, did such beings ever exist
oft descending to earth to wreck havoc there
or in Hades pits cast all, their divine powers did resist,
the glories of faithful worship they deemed fair.

Within Shadows casting forth in blackened glow,
secret havens hide in heaps of aged dust,
there beastly beasts born and wickedly grow
far beneath a granite hardened evil crust.

Robert J. Lindley, 8-08-2018
Rhyme, ( Of Dead Gods, Evil beasts And Man's Folly)

Note:

Mental Storms

1) MENTAL STORMS  
I am not a poet 
I have never claim to be  
I only write down my feelings
Because it helps me mentally 
It was kept a secret for years 
never for others to see 
A personal world 
Where I keep my memory's 
Focusing so hard 
It's like I'm eating them on TV 

dealing with the loss of a love one 
Can come in all shapes and all forms

I just personally found writing to be 
The way 

That helps tackle my personal mental storms 

You see when the storm peaks full force 
it's has no remorse 
It transfers lightning bolts of pain shattering strain electrifying the vains as it travels besides the bloods course 
Then the pain inflames the brain 
as it test the human frame 
to see if you can regain 
the inner strength to remain 
strong enough to maintain 
as you cope with the constant strain of handling one of life's cruelest games 
So I don't care if my English is not the correct grammar 
That really isn't my concern 
The fact is I'm actually thick as  when it comes to understanding all the proper punctuational terms 
I don't write down my feeling for anyone to grade 
I don't write them down for attention or praise 
I don't care for the spelling mistakes or the ink stained tears that phase the page 
Cause when I'm writing 
half the time my hand barley keeps up pace 
Often the tears flow blocking my vision as I scribble down words like an emotional race 
But like any storm 
They always pass through 
Some are worse then others 
But eventually the sky returns blue 
As the sun comes out from behind its covers
So as the wind howls hard 
the rain beaut down 
It's a case of if you want to survive the mental storm 
Or admit defeat and drown in your frown 


William light

Premium Member Three Sonnets From My New Blog, Alas So Shoot Me, I Grieve What Was Lost

(1.)

Alas! So Shoot Me, I Grieve What Was Lost

 

Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost

Not just youth, but those things Time took away

Within aching heart comes an icy frost

Covering epic pains of such decay!

 

One may ask, how dare I so complain?

Does Nature cry about hard falling rain?

 

Yet does not this world its ills promote well?

Oft with sorrows borne from depths of Hell?

 

Dare I choose to such dark verses to write?

Have I not truly joined in the fight?

 

Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost

Not just youth, but those things Time took away

Within aching heart comes an icy frost

Covering epic pains of such decay!

Robert J. Lindley,

Sonnet, repeat stanza ( with triple couplets )

******

(2.)

Those Lush And Tender, Soft Welcoming Lips

 

Those flowing curls, glowing luscious mane

Sexy smile, flowering as desert rain

Bountiful beauty, sent to ease heart's pain

Lovely blessing sent for this soul to gain.

 

Ravishing essence with sweet touch to match

My hesitation, thinking what is the catch

That such a beauty would now my way pass

A goddess, sweet speaking to this poor lass.

 

Those lush and tender, soft welcoming lips

With true beauty, grace, and curvaceous hips

Yes beauty, as  could launch a thousand ships

And greatest king's treasure surely eclipse.

 

Those tender kisses that were sent both ways.

May we forever -  remember that day!

 

Robert J. Lindley,

Sonnet,

 (  And Life, Its Journey Ever Sped Onward  )

******

(3.)

Does Basking Moon Ask Strolling Stars For More

 

Of beauty, earth, wind and soft glowing sky

Dares this artist to weep tears asking why

Heart and soul must pay such a heavy price

And shed blood for it to ever suffice?

 

Does basking moon ask strolling stars for more

Space and time to heavenly night explore

And cast upon earth a much deeper hue

To inspire such in poets such as you?

 

Does dawn its resplendent new rays withhold

That gift, that gleaming beauty to be sold

Or Mother Nature fail to gift new birth

Or poets fail to cast beauty's true worth?

 

Do such quizzing queries set well in verse

Or fail as being dated and quite terse?

Robert J. Lindley,

Sonnet,

( And what of life, love and this thing we call earth ? )


When I Grieve

There were so many present today,
To pay their respects and
To bid you their final farewells.
Some expressed grief at your sudden absence,
Some took a fond walk down the memory lane.
Some left early having fulfilled their societal responsibility,
Some sat in silence, unable to articulate their many thoughts.
What about me, you ask?

I wondered.
I wondered what will it be like?
When I run out of the last of your favourite biscuits.
Or when the bedroom stops smelling of your aftershave.
When your loyal labrador is too old to go for a walk,
And when the flowers stop piling at your grave.
When the oak tree in the backyard withers,
And when they stop selling your treasured cigarettes.
What if our trusted tea shop around the corner closes down?
And all your shirt buttons start coming undone one by one.

I wondered.
I wondered what will it be like?
When everyone stops grieving,
When everyone moves on.
What will it be like?
When I lose you in the truest sense,
And I finally grieve in a world happy without you.

Grieve

Today im not sad
Im in the next stage of grief
Today im angry

Don'T Grieve For Me

Don't grieve for me when I am gone
Don't stand in awe, thinking that I've fallen down
The truth is I was never here in your perfect world
I never did fit in  your robust life
Your lives were full of the things you desired
You never really knew me or how I was inspired
Don't grieve, don't stand in awe
You say you were there, ready to share
but you never knew that I had fears
or that at night to go to sleep
I had to shed some tears
You say you loved me
But you didn't even know me
Don't grieve for me when I am gone
Don't stand in awe, thinking that I've fallen down
Why is it that you never knew of my gifts,
my goodness, of my sorrows, of my pains
Were you looking, did you see
Now the time has come and gone
My presence here was only a loan
My time may be short, it may not be
It will be my delight my loved ones  to see
Since they left me I have been so lonely
Nobody else had such love for  me
Did you know; did you care
Or did you for my mistakes, only stare
Don't grieve for me when I am gone
Don't stand in awe, thinking that I've fallen down
For me the fall is an uphill journey
Don't weep for me when you would not wash my feet
When you maintained joy as I greived in defeat
During the seasons of my life
when you passed me on the street
to you I was only a stranger begging for a treat
I am taking the road already traveled
The road of my Father, see.. I shall not be unraveled
Don't grieve for me when I am gone
Don't stand in awe, thinking that I've fallen down
The stranger, that you did not know
the begger that only desired a treat
would have washed your feet
This stranger  could have been 
the one sent to show that we must all
care enough to share another out of dispare

Premium Member I Cannot Grieve



You have gone to another place
Far away, where I can’t possibly follow
A place of light, laughter and love
Joy that colors the thoughts in warm
Welcoming whispers of hope

This place is lively and dancing with
Compassion, completion, colorful cares
There is the echo of desire and imagination
Gracing prayers with promises
Possibilities and potentials for praise

You are where light shines so bright
Caressing the heart, soul and mind
With music and dreams, soft breaths of 
Gentle ideas, flavors of insight
Elation that lifts spirits to the heavens

There is enlightenment thriving, surviving
Swallowing up emotions left behind
By pride and resentment, bitter longings
For a second chance to be alive
In the heart of someone who is now gone

You have gone to this place on your own
Without my accompaniment garnishing your 
Imagination with an embrace of love
Compassion growing greater as the day 
Silences the who-who-who of night

You are alone there in the hushed
Way that someone is lonely without
The need of someone to attend the funeral
Of emotions and moods, the thoughts
That break off of the grief

You are gone now, absent
From the present moment where I live
Awaiting your hand, your hope
Your happiness to lift my eyes 
From my sorrow, worries and angst

Yet, there you are, sitting quietly
Almost humbly, humbled
Ignoring the tv and the stereo and me
Never saying one single word
A low, soft sigh leaks out of you

It cries
“It is never as it seems”
And I cry
Because you are not here
you are gone in a way I can’t grieve













It Only Seems That Way Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann 
March 18, 2021

One Child Policy

A lonely forlorn figure stands, shoulders slumped, life's energy sapped. A Face much older than the years, looks up at the arrival board, delayed not coming, lost walks in a daze, a mind crash too! Called to a meeting they all file in, media in a frenzy. 

A zillion cameras flash, she hears the words the flight is missing, thinks of the pain when he was born, and the joy as she first held him to her breast. A room full of love, he grew so quick from infant to toddler, and high school student. She watched over him as only a mother can do. It was only a holiday trip, his dream. 

Now the lites of the cameras flash, experts talk of this and that, transponders turned off, plane way off course. She holds the feeling with in, stands with hand in air, every one looks at her silent dignified despair. The Prime Minister says, "Yes, Mam!" The room so silent now, a voice only a child could know filled the room every one taken a back. "Please Sir, do you best, remember me today he is only nineteen and all that I have not a passenger or member of the crew, and for all mothers I speak, not passengers or crew but some one loved, just like your mother loves you!" 

With that she turned as a zillion camera lights flashed, as she slowly made her way from the room, no answer expected in her heart she knew, never to see the smile squeal of toddler delight all that makes a mothers life. 

Aircraft missing, transponders turned off, media circus now in flight, questions to her from left and right, tight lipped she remained, walks slowly on, thinks five or ten years from now, yesterday's headlines forgotten and gone, but in her mind only nineteen and gone...
© Bern Paul  Create an image from this poem.

Deep Wounds Do Bleed In Vain

Deep Wounds Do Bleed in Vain 

 
Even the Greatest of the heroes, humble and handsome today, morrow
Must Inevitably make themselves immobile static carcasses,
Their Doom must shall stab their mates into Deep woes,
Their vail of Agony stays mulish in 'em as the dark patch of sorrow
Grievers gotta grieve in futility, deep in that dark shadowy billow
The Unwise do so, for it's futile to make the Reapers-foes
The sagacious truly know of the Essence of Life; Soul's
The All-permeating immortal of the body, for its presence, isn't shallow

The Unwise too are the ones to fall for their instincts,
With visions of being bein and the only ones to lead,
It's true that some indeed become weeds
For the real humans not always can stand in their stead,
With fallin', Hope falls too; But in this
Capricious game of Chess, The once failed twice succeed

Death Shall Grieve No More With Thee

Oh my beloved, methinks that thy heart
is like o’ that wither’d rose o’ autumn.
My shadow doth kill thy own strength apart
that I perceive thy thought hath neither bloom?

Why let our great myth doth bring harm to thee?
Walk on the path o’ life with such delight,
which my soul doth plead that thou hear’st its plea;
and in it thou see’st mine flickerin’ light.

If that other love’s bright as noonday sun,
why then, oh my beloved, thy heart’s sad?
Mine memory, mine breath beweepth, but none;
oft thou see’st my love for thee I once had.

Thy sweetest love to me always doth live,
let not thy heart, by my death, be deceiv’d!

Grieve, Mimosa Tree

Grieve, mimosa tree

Silky pink petals, a wreath

Create canopy

Guard love one, at peace, beneath

Your presence shall ever haunt

Why Do I Grieve

Corked poison upon treacherous lips
fire water for relationships
drowning souls short of breath
plunging darkness must mean death

sister dearest you loved me so
until uncle Joe caressed you low
enraged butterfly grew wicked horns
roses are protected by its thorns

labeled retarded, mad little boy
even Christmas stole all the joy
bare trees and crippled legs
necessary angles for welfare eggs

poverty shakes an ugly stick
while ignorance is applied too thick
battered syndrome is colorful too
black and blue for me and you

but a rainbow adorns the other side
of those who loved with foolish pride
smiling jesters laugh for naught
oblivious to common thought

education is life itself
hidden nick-knacks on a shelf
soulless wonders, society makes
spirited ones, Lucifer takes...
© Bob Shank  Create an image from this poem.

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