Best Sorrow Poems
On a special Suicidal Night,
I sit alone inside this nightmare
In a nightmare with no windows
Nobody can see me
I can see nobody
Flowers, above
My eyes have darkened to a color never seen before
Forever closed!
It Rains! It Rains!
Beyond this ocean, I've drowned too many times
I remember cascades of water below my eyes
My satin sheets wrinkle and cold
I fail and die every night
No one understands the pain that kills me every day
Wounds that reach 6 feet deep
Lucid demons
Bleeding wrist
Scary dreams
My mind is still screaming
---
Incomplete
Torn
Broken-
Is how I live
I'm alone-
No one's around.
My body's like a coffin
Stiff in my own home.
Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field
(A Tribute)
Tough as nails young man with a red right hand
red-fire and whiskey ran in his blood.
Courageous seed of vast and cold hard land
quick temper, power of a surging flood.
Seeker of life, its promised mysteries
rash gambler with all he would ever own.
Born on ship in high wind swept, roaring seas
toughest warrior his town had ever grown.
Met his fate by volley of red-hot lead
buried on ground scared and battle blasted.
Aye boys, fodder that machine guns were fed
fools marching to death, long as it lasted.
Now flowers cover up and Time denies
scenes of battle torn soil and blood-red skies.
R.J. Lindley
April 23rd, 1975
SONNET-(DEATH AND WAR'S FUTILITY)
Tribute to Courage of Youth-- Second Battle of Ypres, April 22nd 1915 .
Note- added - 8-26-2017
Wiki-
The name Flanders Fields is particularly associated with battles that took place in the Ypres Salient, including the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Passchendaele. For most of the war, the front line ran continuously from south of Zeebrugge on the Belgian coast, across Flanders Fields into the centre of Northern France before moving eastwards — and it was known as the Western Front.
The phrase originates from a poem titled In Flanders Fields by Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, inspired by his service during the Second Battle of Ypres. The fields were not maintained for years before they were made into a memorial. Today Flanders Fields is home to thousands of poppies.
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Found this while rummaging through some of my old poems. Decided not to edit it. Leave it as it was composed over 42 years ago..
Added the note for those not familiar with that battle and its horrific carnage, primarily from the insanity of large bodies of troops marching into direct machine gun fire.
*******************
Note:
This poem was selected and requested for teaching purposes at Cambridge University. Permission was granted for educational use.... RJL
MONSTER
Shackles nor chains, can't change what it is.....
Never was it, the one hiding under the bed,
It was me, tired of it getting inside my head
.... I can still feel, the groping at my feet,
Pulling me from under the sheet,
A victim to your personality
Nothing can, uninstall these walls
--- Walls of bricks, that can't be taken down
On the night, I've learned of your return
My bones began to shiver, as they too shudder,
remembering every black tinge feeling left behind.
Before the bricks, your filth put my innocence into your victim's box
Without a voice, I fell with no one to rescue me...
Sometimes, I wondered who else had to look into its heinous eyes
Nights without security, you crept in' with every morning cry
With nowhere to hide, I found myself constantly victimized.
Nefarious, at my bedside, how did I manage to survive?
Unwanted communication, stole my youthfulness away,
So young, yet persistent diabolical stories hide inside
Bones turned into a tomb of stones
Decayed and withered years, never to be unveiled
Some stain will never wear off or be forgotten
The monster, I once helped shut down,
Soon to return on another bedside,
Now, someone else will close their eyes,
And hear the monster's whisper, "Shh, don't tell, or else!"
And just to think for a moment I felt safe, the air felt different
Now, I feel dirty all over again,
No one can fix or put the ease back to sleep.....
Just as long as it still LIVES'
***
#Monsters Living in Our Society
#Let's take them down one by one
DRY MASCARA
Nobody sees through the shadow and the color of my eyes
The times I've cried are the only time you notice the trace down my face
This time,
The sorrow at heart is deeper than anything I've ever penned or spoken of,
an atmosphere of dark film and Revlon
Many times I allowed myself to die, only to return to the living
The numbness of my soul delivers weight nobody can lift
Talk of black eyes, the tale of my life reopens every scar
On good days, the sun seems to stray from where I lay,
Only to reveal the paste that drowns my face
At times I blank out the pain,
the depression compiles the close quarters of my room
Even then, I can't escape every past wound I covered up
Hiding was never the problem, the healing process was
Institutionalized, no longer able to function as a whole
Each cell inside replicates a tight thick wall with no escape
The laughter of nothing sinks into a gulf of tears
With moods more melancholy than most
I press the pain that echoes hard within my head
- I weep
Deep sadness flows with no mercy, no reason
Nothing to cancel out the voices that hush my inner being
In a whisper, I ask for H E L P,
- I bleed
Nobody sees me, nobody hears me, NOBODY.....
The mascara ruins another fake mask
Grief is somber,
a constant reminder to my soul that it can't hide forever
Silence - callous
Until I can't feel anything...
Empty - detached
I felt myself become numb
Emotions gone
I laughed at the end.
They told me you cried on the day I died
A sob splintering through a silent dome
Your sorrow a shroud on the catacomb
As I laid where birds no longer replied
Now I watch as you slowly search the beach
For those rare shells edged in liminal blue
I would gift you that impossible hue
To show I was within sight, within reach
Yet I wish you more than what shadows grant
A life in the sun of a springtime glen
Not lost in the gloom of my grave's abyss
Let my legacy be the hope you plant
Blooming with the courage to love again
If you will keep something of me - keep this
Porcelain chalk white mask
moves with silence of mime
that hides a lovelorn face
moonstruck by orbs of light
with shadows to embrace.
Porcelain chalk white mask
a cloak of much disguise
hides from the world a heart
that has lost its amour
and yet, performs for art.
Porcelain chalk white mask
a jester, clown, for all
veils verbal tongue held still;
liminal space for words
lest written by a quill.
Porcelain chalk white mask
masquerades as muted
gestures on staged display
hides tumbling diamond tears -
Pierrot to portray …
The First Texian Macabre Arena Ballad (The extended free-fallen edition)
In another life, is where I first saw your face!
One summer afternoon, lying wounded next to the dead
Unopened gun powder, mass destruction, a land of disgrace
A blood thirst battlefield is where I first saw your face
The sound of war, hidden behind bleeding hands
Crawlers, render their lives giving grace
Jaws of steel, broken, embracing, warm feelings
Summer rain, lungs filled with blood, one last post
Glorious by numbers, screaming blades
Gemstone in touch with the Holy Ghost
Soldiers come in a little close
Crawling, missing limbs,
Twisted nightmare with no ending
Macabre reminder, retracing the aroma of eternal life
Secrets buried like a treasure under walls of sudden death
Revolutionary tears found on a rusted Bowie knife
Lanterns, crackling against the dying wind
Dirt piles of crushed windpipes -- sudden death
Rummage like garbage, the dead Texian
A Falling Alamo Star, taking one last twinkle upon the sky
Forgotten Patriots, I can't remember the names
Written on walls, I can't remember the names
A folktale arena is where I first saw your face
Fairness of stuttered surrender slicing through iron brace
Crawling, with the hunger to live, a clean finish with grace
Exposing, scars needing mother's hands, mothers face
Across infested meadows, the aroma of burning skin
Distant, before Texas and her annexation,
Gruesome, before I lived, Texas and her mortal sin
I pledge, my love, the honor, a legion, I'm a full blown Texian
To Every Forgotten Texian Patriot----- We Win!
By: PD
O, weeping willow shed your sorrow
on whispering breeze to soothe your grief
within whose breath's a healing yarrow
to whisk away tears upon your leaf.
Sweet rustling zephyr embraced in sway
as misty-eyes sigh mournful wind-song,
a wistful heart in bosom ballet
with shadows dancing as currents throng.
Weep not, soulful shimmer 'neath sun’s gold
for chartreuse vines fly the west wind's bend,
enlightenment seeps in roots to hold
as yarrow's pink kisses blown to mend.
Susan Ashley
August 13, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 1
Sponsor: Mark Toney
The 28th of April; I'll always remember that day
It was very overcast and the sky was quite grey
That short journey to the vet I will never forget
And when I think back to that day, I have no regret.
He was such a welcome member of our family
A playful cocker spaniel and we named him Ozzie
He loved to go for long walks out in the country
When he saw us with his lead, he'd go off in a frenzy.
I thought he'd take off when he started wagging his tail
The weather didn't faze him, be it ice snow or hail
I would mumble about the weather under my breath
But he was loving every minute although soaking wet.
We'd get back from our walk and I'd rub him down
You could see the joy in his face and never a frown
Then after his dinner he'd lie down for a long snooze
Out of all the dogs in the world every time him I'd choose.
He was eleven years old when he started to fade
I lost count of the many visits to the vets we made
We must have given him every medicine and pill
But we knew in our hearts that Ozzie was quite ill.
0ur family got together to discuss what was for the best
Reluctantly we all agreed that we should put Ozzie to rest
That terrible morning arrived, it was just another day
All he could do was sleep, he was just too ill to play.
My wife came home from work and I carried him to the car
Then drove slowly down to the vets, it wasn't too far
We went inside and sat down and no words were said
And I tried not to think that soon Ozzie would be dead.
It seemed like a life time then a nurse called us in
I carried him to a side room; the vet was waiting
The vet reassured us that he wouldn't feel a thing
We were both biting our lips to stop us from crying.
We'd brought his favourite biscuits and fed him one by one
And just a few minutes later our playful Ozzie was gone
We stayed with him for a while and then left him there
I know now it was for the best because we did care.
We got home it felt empty no one to greet us at the door
And I missed seeing him where he'd often lie on the floor
Its been three long years now but I'll never forget
That Ozzie was one of the family and not just a pet.
(Ozzie left us on the 28th April 2017)
Written 8th August 2020
For All Pets Go To Heaven Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Constance La France
I watch as she sleeps,
the gentle rise and fall of her chest
making sure her breathing is rhythmic
Thoughts take me back years ago
when we were playmates ~sisters
separated by little more than a year.
A tear escapes my eyes. I wipe it away
for if she wakes and sees me crying,
her tears will flow again.
My sister, my best friend
Always vibrant and busy with life
Taking care of everyone
and putting her needs last.
As quickly as a breath was taken
she'd had a stroke
and when she woke
her life had been turned
upside down, mouth drooping
as if she were wearing a frown.
My heart grieves silently
Bleeding with pain I cannot show
for I'll not let her know my fears~
My tears hidden,
I replace them with a smile
and if she would look into my eyes,
she'd know. She'd know my anguish.
Her needs are many~
Slurred speech, limp left arm
Fran, who is gifted with empathy
for the plights of others.
Now, she fights to get her life back.
She sobs when friends call
and I have to say, "She's just emotional."
Damn it! I would be, too!
I tell her it's okay and smile~
Sometimes, she smiles back at me
Sometimes, she turns her head away
We talk about childhood days
and when a haze fills her eyes,
I talk about something silly~
desperate to give her hope.
A blood clot broke free from her brain
at least it had the decency
not to enter her heart.
Distraught, of course she is
but my sister is a fighter
and we work together, day and night
to help her hand grip mine tighter.
It's 4 am, and by the night light
I look at her face, wrinkle free
but only when she's asleep.
I pray to God while I weep,
"Please give her the life she knew."
There's little more I can do
except to be her big sister.
She'll get through this hard time
with help from family and friends
Those who love her as much
as she loves all of us.
We talk about it being another hurdle
she'll get over, but this one...
this one is physical, a literal mountain
that she must climb, but not alone.
There are goals to set and reach
and each step she takes strengthens her will
to be as independent as she used to be.
I sit here, watching her as she sleeps
and only then do I allow my tears to fall.
~ Yolanda was--her name ~ Featuring:) Leonora Galinta
From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything
Like a Massive Storm
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night,
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder,
With the company of her own knight of darkness,
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses,
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.”
A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet,
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength,
Nature devouring nature itself
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children.
Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain,
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity
Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength-
:)
-rearranging the stars-
How could we agree to separation?
If you were destined to be my soulmate,
Why would we allow the stars to change our fate?
They've written in a fresh verse
Sewing in a new song, soon to be sung
The Stars are not to blame
The fault lies deep within our hearts
Like earthquakes wondering through the years
separating silicone valley of tears.
Sweeping sweet dreams far away
What has become of my day?
Today the sun sets holding on to old hope
Tears fall down a sudden slope
Now my dreams are drowning down another road
Tonight I sit under the aspen cold
Alone, no longer in search of gold
Naming nights you whispered words of love to my soul
Your love no longer speaks
Without warning, the Midas touch slowly fades
In my chest - I find fault
The sound of heartache echoes every day
Rejuvenating every crack from display
In plain sight, I search for thee
The sun -The moon -The madness -The Salton Sea
My heart no longer speaks
Everything I dream of sinks like the night
Stuck in quicksand -- the aftermath
Healing scars the aftershock left behind
Finding ways to fill the gloom
Alas bridal curtains sit silently in my room
Setting boundaries between Earth's poetic plates
Like an earthquake passing through my heart
You left like the moon, moving mountains apart
IS THERE SOMETHING YOU forgot TO TELL Me, dear
Suddenly, San Andreas Fault looks tragic from here
Until then I will hold my breath
In hopes, our Plates will meet again
By: PD
6/29/15
I rise and fall like melancholy tides
in ebb and flow of wistful disrepair,
our separate in consciousness divides,
the whiff of grief fills broken-hearted air.
Neglected now, heartstrings' rawhide, I mourn
with briny beads that water my dismay,
eyes teary drizzled mist, inside forlorn,
my psyche pierced by thorns in love's bouquet.
Whatever will I do, this emptiness..?
A gnawing hollow where my heart should be.
My lonely preys me like a lioness,
a simba stalks this lost love refugee.
Soft morning sun does gaze into my eyes
enlightening the depths of agonize.
I cried for so long, so many nights,
and now no more tears can drop,
I'm all out, do you have some to spare,
cause you know once I start, I can't stop.
I go on for days with a heavy heart,
no tears fall, though inside I'm crying,
I feel empty, hollow, dark inside,
a soul dead, and still is dying.
Can I fill a bucket from your well,
the sun came out, dried up my rain,
I'll take them carefully, try not to spill,
cause I've got a need to ease the pain.
That feeling of washing away the sorrow,
with trickling tear-water, clear and cool,
soothes the soul, relaxes the ache,
can I dive right into your swimming pool?
I need to pour out your flowing brook,
to keep me crying a river for today,
I want to hold despair in my hands,
please let this melancholy feeling stay.
Out of Water contest
placed 14th
water
murmurs softly,
through the cool of exhaled
breath, against the stones it whispers,
secrets
secrets,
gently spoken,
lonely unbeckoned words,
hidden deep within broken hearts,
aching
aching,
melting sorrow
pours viscous and endless,
caressing emotions that hide
within
within
this emptiness
sprouts the seed of desire,
where blooms love’s flower, bathed in sweet
water
04/01/2018