Grief Poems
A Monumental Column
by John Webster
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR ROBERT CARR, VISCOUNT ROCHESTER, KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, AND ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.
My right noble lord,
I present to your voidest leisure of survey these few sparks found out in our most glorious prince his ashes. I could not have thought this worthy your view, but that it aims at the preservation of his fame, than which I know not anything (but the sacred lives of both their majesties and their sweet issue) that can be dearer unto you. Were my whole life turned into leisure, and that leisure accompanied with all the Muses, it were not able to draw a map large enough of him; for his praise is an high-going sea that wants both shore and bottom. Neither do I, my noble lord, present you with this night-piece to make his death-bed still float in those compassionate rivers of your eyes: you have already, with much lead upon your heart, sounded both the sorrow royal and your own. O, that care should ever attain to so ambitious a title! Only, here though I dare not say you shall find him live, for that assurance were worth many kingdoms, yet you shall perceive him draw a little breath, such as gives us comfort his critical day is past, and the glory of a new life risen, neither subject to physic nor fortune. For my defects in this undertaking, my wish presents itself with that of Martial's;
O utinam mores animumque effingere possem!
Pulchrior in terris nulla tabella foret.
Howsoever, your protection is able to give it noble lustre, and bind me by that honourable courtesy to be ever
......
Courage.
by Vic Payne
It is written in books and for TV,
Like when Harry fought you know who,
Or when Nick Nelson told his family he was bi (actually),
Alec realising it wasn't Lydia he loved,
When Pru, Piper and Phoebe were more powerful together,
The doctor constantly running towards danger,
And when Layken learnt to parent as she grieved.
Yes they have courage,
But there's more courageous people in the real world.
......
Town Eclogues: Thursday; The Bassette-Table
by Lady Mary Wortle Montagu
SMILINDA and CARDELIA.CARDELIA.
THE bassette-table spread, the tallier come,
Why stays SMILINDA in the dressing-room ?
Rise, pensive nymph ! the tallier stays for you.
SMILINDA.
Ah ! Madam, since my SHARPER is untrue,
I joyless make my once ador'd alpieu.
I saw him stand behind OMBRELIA's Chair,
And whisper with that soft deluding air,
......
Drapple-Thorned Aphrodite,
by Sappho
Dapple-throned Aphrodite,
eternal daughterf God,
snare-knitter! Don't, I beg you,
cow my heart with grief! Come,
as once when you heard my far-
off cry and, listening, stepped
from your father's house to your
gold car, to yoke the pair whose
......
The Crucifixion
by Steve Turner
You were one with the Father.
Then the Father turned his back on you.
You felt forsaken,
hanging there between heaven's thunder
and the dank spittle of earth.
For that moment you belonged nowhere.
You were love, cut off from love;
truth nailed down by lies.
You must have wanted to explode, to disintegrate,
......
My Murder Confession
by Melvyn Kairupan
In a haze, I stumble,
tripping over my own feet,
dragging my breath through a hill drowned in fog.
Cold. Fucking cold.
Solitude chewing through my skin,
biting into my bones.
And then—
you.
......
Heart drenched in insanity
by Fathima Valliyangal
You know what, Sherlock?
Love? That’s pathetic
His arms were drenched in her cologne,
the other day,
the smile so nefarious,
conniving yet innocent.
I gave him my heart, you know?
I gave him elusive veins and Sherlock,
what do I get? I am deceived,
as though my eyes are blinded
......
Unforgiving past
by Fathima Valliyangal
Night, a solaceful, distant memory
When you left my already-rifted heart
It repeats, this haunting memory,
I try, alright?
I try to forget, I try to move on.
But this memory, it just has to,
repeat itself, over time again,
and I am, but a slave of the past.
The last time you said ‘Goodbye’,
......
For Achilles
by ash m
Prideful Achilles. Now sorrowful Achilles. Achilles
whose handsome countenance now defiled
with dust he caught and poured over his face. Mighty Achilles
laying in dust, tearing at his hair -
mightily in his might.
Achilles, worth an entire army,
grieving in his proud heart, now having the need of another
to hold his hand lest he cut his throat with iron - Achilles who
now cried, so terribly aloud, she, from the depths of the sea,
......
A Dreadful Embrace.
by Hari Krishnan B V
Arousing horridly hatred breeds aching sorrowful grief,
Words massacred every breath down the diaphragm.
Eyes plunge stinging tears down the bloodshot sclera,
Frigid fills with your muffled cries of mellifluous voice.
Limbs turning numb sans hurling hazardous venom,
Crawling to her like a microbe searching its genome.
Our deafening cries engulfed the infirmary chamber,
Overwhelming with misery, weeping angels flew apart.
She gushed blood for in love, hidden spirits envied us,
......
