Long Saddening Poems
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Grey the shadow has laid
Shoes are scattered buckles undone
Quite still the ball with which children played
In quiet corners the clocks hands don’t run
Chuckles sounded a happy day was made
Toy boxes in past times a wondrous scene
Clay models squeezed to shape in small hands
Books pens and paint brushes water soaked clean
Some glued paper with stuck coloured sands
A blackboard with chalk its white letters to be seen
The end of play bell had sound its saddening ring
Some counting was practiced at the front of the class
Some children at the piano with the teacher sing
But it isn’t the wind which rattles the glass
Outside the rain fell frozen too hail winter to bring
That grey shadow dealing death in its wake
What was the guardian doing that day
In silence and stillness bleeding fingers would rake
When so many loved ones were taken away
To listen for a voice a needed sound to make
22/9/21. Contest quintain Sicilian. Emile Pinet
It’s a very saddening feeling.
Loneliness.
You want to go out,
but you don’t have anyone to call.
You want to get out of the house,
but you don’t have the motivation to get out of bed.
You want to talk to someone,
but you don’t want to be a burden with your thoughts,
so you keep to yourself,
and don’t let anyone in.
It’s painful,
Mentally, and physically.
It causes mental pain,
because you’re having yourself stuck in your head,
in the darkness of a room.
It causes physical pain,
because you can let out your frustrations,
and other bothering thoughts,
onto yourself, hurting yourself.
It’s painful being alone,
and it never won’t be.
Hand on hand rest, I given a thistle
Forgive the word by the flaws in whistle
Tarry you and carry,no-more longer I
Dripped you the tear of slouching eye
In the mountain of fall layered in gild
And golden wattle suited into the barren field
The swore i remembered the long before
I placed over you that i never hold anymore
A stolen merry gyring within your quietness arm
Against the same lea and your terrible charm
Saddening and shrilling cries on my chest
And felt burnt by the chilly and hanging crest
O' what is meant to be sorrow i forgot
It is so where you were biding a lot
I the varlet flee to where we never meet
And is now your joy undimmed and sweet
When I take my nephew
to the park to play basketball,
I look around to spot trolls
who litter and destroy.
" Look at those hoodlooms,
how they behave and talk! "
" They are my friends " he
exclaims. " Your friends?
Has your mom met them? "
" Scondrels and slanderers
have the foul smell of rats in a sewer;
they scatter soda cans everywhere
and say words we never dare to say! "
I notice that I have embarassed him:
his bond of friendship seems stronger
than the depictable things he sees;
he'll try to defend them, then he lowers
his head and admits they aren't worthy keeping
if they are always getting in trouble! "
He asks me taking another look at them.
" It's very obvious how pitiful they are
with thin bodies and scruffy appearance...
do they ever go home and eat dinner,
or even take a shower and study hard? "
" No, " he replies with a saddening look.
" Do you consider them friends or worthless boys?"
" They are both, uncle!, I am ashamed of them. "
I wanted you to see what they become
without putting words in your mouth...
their bad upbringing reflects their personality
and their behavior; I must blame their parents
for the freedom they shouldn't have! "
And turning to him with a mellow smile,
" You like to go to college and be a basketball player? "
" Yes, uncle. " he whispered with a glow
that sparked joy in his intelligent eyes.
Written on 10/26/2016
Sostenuto
Treble and Bass strings were Replaced
pianissimo she loved a soft soothing sound
We rathered it more forte and mezzo-piano
Less genre oriented yet moving towards
a rhythmic feel with popular appeal.
She didn't like the soulful sounds and didn't
like soulful rock or country soul. She prefers
Bassy classic ethnic crisp trembled sounds
centered around a groovey bassy backdrop
in the creation of songs she wished none to
use emotion in the music what she likes was
made unappealling by saying it was gloom or
saddening many conversations made her to appear
foolish or unfamilar with what others thought
the great need of many over the want and desires
of someones want.Yet I desire perfection a wish
a more perfect collaberate effort through use of
orcstarted sounds soothing and rhythmic let
the lyric writer find fault in my perfection to
breath life into a text of poetic jesturing to
thrust and grind his way to a climax of stressless
completion.Or a stressful incompletion where his need
to express a universal understanding of love or to
express a desire to make love or whatever
Pleasure of completion ahaall tell me when he's
finished. Yet I'm to struggle with the creation of
the perfect sound. The gift's of contracted
see me smile in satisfaction!
Written by:
Comment OffdeMark
and
Muzzic De Plesaure
These times we know are saddening. These times we know are hard.
Our faith in life is being attacked and it will leave a permanent scar.
Our minds are crying for what we’ve lost and what we’ve had taken away.
Our ancestors fought and died for our democracy and payed with so much loss. A debt that we will never be able to repay.
Their blood was spilled in the hope that for the sake of humanity we could find a and live together in a better way.
New horizons inspire deeper depths for learning and understanding in so many different ways.
The history of life echoes a recurring warning to each and every single one of us, every single day...
Open minds create mankind’s most beautiful desires and thoughts and challenge us to find and live in more harmonious ways.
Closed minds contain the fuel of hate and create a cold dead space of lost, unchartered ways.
It’s down to us to take each other by the hand and to learn from mankind’s mistakes.
My ship docks in this harbor town again.
I haven’t been here since God knows when.
I want to get a drink at this public house place.
There’s a girl named Brandy there with a beautiful face.
Oh Brandy, what a good wife she would be.
However, the first love of my life is the sea.
On another voyage, I had to go away.
I promised I would return to her someday.
Brandy is such a woman so fine.
She works at the pub serving whiskey and wine.
To any man who sees her, she lights his fire.
A wonderful woman like her would be any man’s desire.
The barkeep told me Brandy no longer works here.
“Remember the silver locket? Brandy held it quite dear.
She loved you very much, but she could not wait.
We are approaching her second wedding anniversary date.”
That was saddening news the man told me.
However, now that she’s married, I hope she’ll be happy.
Based on the 1972 hit song “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” by the Looking Glass
If I die
send no flowers upon my grave
no one should go raven
blurring eyes and saddening soul.
If I die
say a prayer of appreciation
to God for my freedom
for my sins are attoned for.
If I die
go to my home
and take my ministerial bag
and serve the God I served before I died.
If I die
take my books of poetry
and show it to the world
let them see my arsenal of words.
If I die
don't ask God why
for he has been so patient
for death to come this late.
If I die
tell precious I would miss her
the troublesome swiftness of her gentle soul
and the Chinese curves of her eyes.
If I die
tell mattatha I was measuring up to him
the tender maturity of his spiritual growth
the class of his stylish clothes.
If I die
tell my family not to worry
the world not to mourn me
tell JEHOVAH am sorry
for I couldn't fulfil my ministry.
God, Bottles Our Tears
shed
For Fallen Roses
By: Tom Wright
4/26/00
Sleep,
lay heavy o'er the room.
Fading fast, a single Rose,
that once was held, full in bloom.
Now,
It's fading petals have been cast.
Strewn about as papier-mâché’s,
before a crafters broom,
whose time has came to fast.
Weep,
but mourn not your lovely flower,
forever from gloom,
now, having fulfilled appointed hour.
Swift,
has fallen the petal last,
but from saddening thoughts, refrain.
Granting pleasant memories space
to flourish and remain,
of your Roses' vibrant past.
Psalms: 126 : 5
"They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy"
Dedicated:
To those whose Rose has gone.
Mothers Day 2000
The Headfire spreading wildly through my mind
Uncontrollably the words start to flow
As visions of ideas are designed
My creativity begins to grow
There are so many thoughts I can't escape
Some magical, a colorful garden
Or a lake surrounded by lush landscape
The images that won't let my heart harden
Others are quite darker and saddening
Like the love I have lost throughout my life
And my shameful sins which are maddening
It is filling my heart with so much strife
Whatever theme, my Headfire leads the way
Until the day I have nothing to say
6/24/2017