Best Unbearably Poems
Setting: A man and woman are reunited in a garden after an unbearably long separation. From the viewpoint of the man.
Now the sun is slowly rising o'er the mountains
And it lights a sea of diamonds on the flowers kissed with dew
It is shining golden beams into the garden
And they cast a shade of auburn on your hair of golden hue
So here is what I have to say:
The flowers in their beauty have seemed to fade
And here, these diamonds seem to be afraid
At sight of you
The trees, though standing strong and firm
Could not be half as staunchly ever true
While here upon the grass I stand
I'll hold your hand
And then we'll stroll about this garden for a day
I'll hear you say
The things that I have longed to hear
And perhaps we will share joy and tears
Being here by your side
Makes all cares to subside
For I know winds may blow
But the past is washed away
Now I'm here, and I'm here
Foreverlong to stay
Or so I pray
Now the sun is slowly setting in the garden
And the shades of fiery gold and orange have changed to grey and blue
The moon shines in your eyes this starry night
And words can't seem to tell the love I have for you.
~This was written for the contest "Lyrics To Le Jardin D'Adonis" sponsored by Craig Cornish.
Here is a recording of the tune: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILm89xCyHQo
Written by Isaiah Zerbst on May 20, 2013
Categories:
unbearably, absence, day, flower, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate was a very evil man,
He used to eat his dinner from a filthy frying pan,
And when he’s finished eating he’d play “catch me if you can”
With his desperado first-mate known as Dirty Deadeye Dan.
Now Dan was quite a ladies man, but also fond of booze,
In bars and streets and hotels he liked to drink and cruise,
He used to taunt old-Peg Leg Pete by dragging up old news,
Like Pete had only ever needed half a pair of shoes.
One day Pete had quite enough and things got pretty scary,
Confronting Dirty Deadeye Dan whose mood was always lairy,
A sudden hush fell on the room when Pete clumped in the bar
And Dan called out: “Hey, Peg-Leg, hop on over, have a jar.”
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate clasped the pistol on his hip
And snarled at Dirty Deadeye Dan: “Enough of your damn lip.”
The floozy sat upon Dan’s lap was dumped onto the floor
And Dan rose to his feet and hissed: “You’d best limp out the door.”
Across the sawdust, blood-stained floor they faced each other down,
And you could hear a pin drop from the other side of town,
Eyes were locked and fingers twitched and seconds seemed like days
The tension burned unbearably and shimmered in the haze.
Both men drew their pistols and both men fired fast,
Flame spat from the barrels with the bullets roaring past,
But neither man could aim for squat and when their guns were done
They’d killed two people in the bar but they weren’t either one.
The barman Blind-man Billy Bragg and the floozy Scar-Faced Sue
Lay dead as dead as doornails, as doornails tend to do,
And through the pall of gun-smoke and the mist of rum and beer
Deadeye Dan called out to Pete: “We’d best get out of here.”
And so they did, they fled the bar, and vanished in the night,
Back to their ship, The Crippled Cock, and sailed on out of sight,
Never to return to shore, and never seen again,
The rumour is they sank and drowned just off the Spanish Main.
The moral of the story is that when you draw a gun,
Be prepared to end your days always on the run,
“Or in your case, always on the limp,” said Dirty Deadeye Dan
To Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate, that very evil man.
Categories:
unbearably, funny, evil, men,
Form:
Verse
My old friend Gettysburg came to visit me tonight.
He indicated that he has been troubled about many things.
He begins without hesitation to speak to me with passionate expressions. He said that he was feeling both patriotism and pride but also consternation. He thought about how different '4th of July' celebrations might be this year.
He is whispering to me about both freedom and sovereignty.
He is shouting to me in tears about divisiveness and unity.
He tells me of his being ripped apart in every section and direction.
His north is pulling; his south is pushing; his east and west are frozen.
His total being is being disconnected; his pain is unbearably excruciating.
He ponders the complexity of such beauty being on the brink of destruction.
He remembers the Mayflower, Plymouth Rock, and the Boston Tea Party.
Presently, when thinking about Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, he weeps.
He locks his eyes to mine and questions, "Whatever happened to the love of life, love of family, love of neighbor, love of the church, love of country?"
Gettysburg believes in America and thinks we will find our way forward.
He reflects on the Declaration of Independence and the many sacrifices.
The Preamble to the Constitution is weighing heavily on his confused mind.
He prays that the dream doesn't die, and he rejects any nightmarish thoughts.
Gettysburg believes in God, and that He will turn the tides and calm the sea.
He utters his last words to me by quoting the Preamble to the Constitution of the USA. "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of ...
061520PS
Categories:
unbearably, abortion, america, july,
Form:
Personification
African-American and abusive, my late step-dad
was a reverse racist:
an army sergeant; a Vietnam vet; and, a backhand,
face-hitting sadist.
I once bemoaned that I was a white child
(as if it were my fault!?)
and that he was black and resentful of me.
So, once in reckless revolt
against his ongoing abuse,
I rebelled under my breath
and uttered the "n" word at him
(so he beat me nearly to death).
Bruised, I never uttered that word again;
then mom and he divorced
as I grew older (which freed us at last!):
now unrivaled (with no remorse),
I suddenly was the man of the house; and life
for us seemed less stormy.
For the first time in years we lived without abuse;
and, at last, we were a family.
Then I got religion and met God;
and gave myself to Christ.
It was the best thing I ever did!
Born again, I thus was sufficed.
So the scars of my step-dad's abuse which
for years I had repressed
began to heal and disappear; and so I became
less and less oppressed.
Now old, my erstwhile step-dad developed
advanced swelling of the lung;
I had not forgiven him yet (back when
I was still angry and young).
Not yet able to forgive him for the abuse that
made our lives so unbearably grim,
I nevertheless still realized that the weight
of still having hatred for him
was far worse than my pain. I recognized
that in life we all transgress
and come short of God's glory: so, moved by
His grace and forgiveness,
I made the right choice to forgive him;
for me a daily, ongoing process,
I at last began to let go of the anger
and truly begin to move past the mess
that was my step-dad's legacy to me. Also, I
began to forgive God;
for He was not to blame for him (whose own
father, too, did not spare the rod).
Still, tho' I had chosen to forgive (him) and let go,
he was unmoved and unchanged as ever:
but I, however, realized that what truly mattered
was that forgiveness set me free forever!
When at last he died, I had already completely
let go (so that he was forgiven).
Now I can only ask of God whether my step-dad
was changed from his glimpse of heaven?
Categories:
unbearably, abuse, anger, forgiveness, god,
Form:
Narrative
BROTHERLY LOVE
Brother--
Blooded by my
Jealous rage --gone dead wrong
Betrayal won—Killed my mind and
Brother....
This is PART TWO
PART ONE: Cuchalainn's Crossing
Victoria Anderson-Throop
Based on the unbearably sad Celtic story of Cuchaliann and his foster brother and best friend Ferdiad. Tricked by a woman, to fight each other to the death, Cuchalainn killed his brother--then carried him--cradled in his arms-- miles home. (see photo in Wiki)
Categories:
unbearably, brother, loneliness, lost love,
Form:
Cinquain
What a shame, a crying shame,
Forests, serene, so tame,
Have to burn till crusty and dry
As they breath their last sigh!
Proud tall old trees that suffer,
And weep as flames
Crackle below, creeping
Higher and higher,
Engulfing them in an
Ocean of fire!
They shed tears not for them-selves
But mostly for humanity,
What will you do without us
They cry,
This Planet is doomed,
Look out, or Earth will
Wither and die.
Flames can be seen from afar
As branches turn their faces
Away from their pain and a
Dripping flow of
Burning leaves,
Whisper their story,
Of eons, of glory.
Heat waves unbearably hot,
Have fueled these
Furious forest fires
No means of protecting
Their beauteous facade,
Alas, trees sway
This way and that,
Can bear no more, succumb
To a surrounding inferno,
Unbearable to see them so,
As like dominoes they fall,
And let out a dying call,
Humanity hear us now,
Come together and stop
This carnage,
For it is for you we cry,
As we burn and slowly fry!
All this was predicted
Millenniums ago,
Don’t forgo
The wise sayings of
Yester year,
We feel and see your fear,
Take a step back,
Renew your view,
Don’t just look ahead,
We learn from the old
And the new,
Take heed, we
Are speaking to you!
Melting glaciers at the poles
Hurricanes, tornadoes
Earthquakes, unrest and killing
Amidst a Covid Pandemic,
Always remember
We need each other,
Worldwide organizations
Have put Planet Earth
On red alert,
A humanitarian disaster
By coming together,
We must avert.
Categories:
unbearably, fire,
Form:
Free verse
in my mind is a place of unbearable beauty
so agonizing to recall the charm
a place so lovely and pretty, rows of sweet homes
with window boxes of bright flowing flowers
and lace curtains billowing in the breeze
the place of my early childhood
where children played and lived safe
until that day, that dark day
the day my sister Suzanne died
hit by a passing truck, suddenly
and my world changed forever and ever
my family left this home far behind, we moved
but in my mind this place remained unbearably beautiful
many, many years have passed, life has gone on
and now I return for the first time
the beauty in my mind shattered beyond belief
replaced by the reality of an inner city ghetto
rundown, devastated, ravaged rows of boarded up
crumbling houses, gone to waste and ruin
it is more than I can fathom
but yet, yet there is a shadow of the beauty that was
and as I view the destruction of a time passed
houses fallen and given away to neglect
I realize my memory is no longer a valid thing
closing my eyes, I imagine the loveliness that once was
a time that I had placed upon a pedestal
gone forever in reality
only and forever existing in my wandering mind
this unbearable beauty of a place and time . . .
__________________________________
May 17, 2013
Poetry/Narrative/ in my mind only
Copyright Protected, ID 05-478-741-17
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest,
A poem that took more than a week to write,
Sponsor, Poet Destroyer, Judged 05/2013
First Place
Categories:
unbearably, beauty, childhood,
Form:
Narrative
Old man Carter lived all alone, quietly nestled in his quaint little home.
Arthritis kept him crippled, writhing in excruciating pain, his wife long
since departed, leaving him nothing more to gain. His children made
arrangements, to place him in a nursing home. They lacked the
compassion to inform him face to face, knowing he would surely die in
this unfamiliar place. He lost his will to live, life had tragically passed
him by, without his long lost Eleanor, his only hopes were to die. There
he sat in his recliner, a rigid shell of an old man, quietly he uttered to the
Lord,..."Father, forgive me", as he clasped a revolver in his frail, arthritic
hand. Suddenly, an image appeared before him, it was clad in solid white.
Old man Carter could hardly open his eyes, for the radiance was unbearably
bright. Soon, the light diminished, the image's skin was fair. The old man's
eyes began to focus as he observed a figure with long, coarse
hair. The image's eyes were gentle, bearing scars above the brow. Open
wounds the width of nails pierced both its delicate hands. Then, in a soft-
spoken voice it said,..."No more shall ye suffer, old man". "Set aside thy
weapon", the image went on to say,..."You're going home to Eleanor,
upon this Christmas Day". The old man passed on to heaven, he was
discovered the very next day. "Such a tormented soul was he!" That's what
the neighbors would say. It was there on a table beside him, a scribbled
poem which sadly read,...
"Christmas is the day I wed,
The true love of my life;
Christmas is the day I've chosen,
To join my beloved wife
Jesus arrived to take me,
The hour's a quarter past four;
Suicide's never an option,
I'm with Jesus and my sweet Eleanor"...
Goodbye
Categories:
unbearably, inspirationalchristmas, old, lost, christmas,
Form:
Narrative
Every dawn, to dream
the world is somehow re-created.
The impossible, under the orange.
With fighting rays protruding
out of the sun, (the heaped unbeatable).
(Foe of the night ash).
Turning into, (all horizons) far
Bear yourself to the unbearably high branches-
letting the ponds cry in sorrow
wearing your warm diamond cloak
causing it to magnify it’s intention
Yet, of virgin white lilies,
If your nature;
to reach toward the orange
then reach with all you have
for hours lilies, your imagination
brightens everywhere
calling us all to join
Lifting your burden somewhat
All the while
The blade and shoe
that is heavier than lead-
ever present, eclipses your attempts
to keep on trudging-
Oh Lilies,
Grow, in your splendor
Turn on spiral muscle worn thin
as you pry the sky downward
Expressing your efforts
Allowing for me, time to stand
a necessary task
If I am to continue
To expand my workfist
Wide open into the day
*****Winner of first place award******
________________________________________________________________
Inspired by: The Impossible Dream by Joe Darion
Written exclusively for Michele Nold-Godleske Contest
Categories:
unbearably, music, on writing and
Form:
Free verse
She always thought she was a cut above others
The most beautiful, the richest , the best
A self confidence unbearably arrogant and explosive
When with her, peoples patience were put to the test
Outer beauty, plastic enhancements, riches is all that mattered
She was insincere, rude and vain
Never gave or did for another
In her eyes other women were unattractive and plain
Committed to a lunch work meeting
At a restaurant by the sea
It was a beautiful sunny day
Being with work plebs is not where she wanted to be
Glammed up to the eyeballs
She reluctantly arrived
Disgusted at having to be even near the plebs
She went to have a cigarette outside
She could see the plebs through the window
Looking at them down her perfect nose
Hoping to be rid of these deadbeats soon
In their embarrassing low budget clothes
Her negative ,superior body language was obvious
As she stood outside full of false pride
When several seagulls flew above her and let rip
Raucous laughter heard from the plebs inside
Categories:
unbearably, giggle, humor, judgement, self,
Form:
Rhyme
A forbidden love it was from long ago
Many years passed it's still whispering
It won't stop until it winds round again, smiling and shining
It will wind around dangerously entangling two lives separate
Her heart skips a beat, throbbing, throbbing, throbbing
It hasn’t done this since years long gone past
What is this!?!
She suddenly can’t stop the fluttering
She smiles, remembering innocent tender embraces
His plump rosy childish lips go on springing
Hers were red in coyness, yet kissing, kissing, kissing
So similar they were bound by the laws of the universe
To meet again, with their love of full feelings, soaring and soaring
No amount of time or distance could keep them apart
Secret lovers meet again, both hearts beat throbbing, throbbing
Unbearably passionate that no one but they alone will ever understand
And she keeps waiting, waiting, waiting
Because she knows the power of this and the inevitable
She waits with a hidden smile of joy in her heart
Waiting for his words that will cover her body
They only need a quick glance, to know that yes!
This does exist!
A forbidden love that can only be allowed to entwine once in a pink moon.
To spare the heartbreak it would cost to others
And knowing that only this way would it ever feel like this any way,
To meet more than once in a pink moon would destroy the pureness of this thing
To remain hidden, known only to the two of them
But this passion makes them to better love
The one who awaits at home
The rock at home that each needs to hang on to
Because to let their wild hearts go recklessly would break them forever
Break the rocks and these star-crossed lovers
Only once when a pink moon comes about
And the universe is forced to unite two hearts again
Again and again in their strange entangled lives.
Categories:
unbearably, love,
Form:
Blank verse
On unbearably pleasant days
she beckons the ferryman
to taxi her to the
dark places of her past
to stock up on bitterness,
envy, rancor
a delusional cocktail for the
attention-starved addict
with the trademark, fatalistic,
false sense of power.
Self-respect makes a break for it
while she coddles demons in her sleep.
Categories:
unbearably, friendship, life, people,
Form:
Life carries us through many changes, some good and some bad
But every change is a chance to grow to realms of spiritual maturity that humanly,
we could not know
Life takes us through seasons of change-
Through summers, winters and springs.
The Winter of Life can be barren and dry, but God is still yet by our side-
Taking us through the seasons of change and helping us remain strong, able to
bear the pressure that we may retain a sound mind.
The Winter of Life can be cold and still, frozen it seems by circumstances that
disguise themselves as unbearably real, making our sight unfocused on the
claim for victory.
The Winter of Life makes us wonder if we will ever overcome the stillness and
uncertainty that sometimes short circuits our faith, causing us to linger on in the
wilderness of despair.
The Winter of Life seems to have no end; just does not want to go away;
But just as sure as you were born and night turns into day, the Winter of Life will
soon be gone.
And all that is left will be a fleeting memory of what once was-
As you rise above in power to live in summers and springs throughout Eternity.
Categories:
unbearably, faith, hope, life, recovery
Form:
Free verse
When the clouds are dark
hindering my thoughts and my walk
when even at my lowest
not knowing where I'm going
Father how do I prepare?
For the end we all must surely bear
When so many storms I've seen before
when everyday I need you more and more
thinking of all the sacred hearts
I struggle to find a way to depart
to lose another special part
Father how do I prepare?
For the end we all must surely bear
When the tears have drained me unbearably so
and my mind has started to forsake me more
please walk with me, and restore the air
that life has drained over the years
Father how do I prepare?
For the end we all must surely bear
When my heart is feeling lonely
and at times, my burdens heavy
you carried my pain and guided my days
as more and more thorns my body endures
Father how do I prepare?
For the end we all must surely bear
When trials and tribulations test my faith
when I closed my eyes and began to pray
it is you who took hold to comfort my soul
I ask you father within me
Father how do I prepare?
For the end we all must surely bear.
Categories:
unbearably, bereavement, death, destiny, devotion,
Form:
Ballad
Humble,
Rudimentary,
Comfortable clutter to abate fears of agoraphobic stumbles,
A 4x4 white-washed landscape provides the perfect artistic study.
Claustrophobic,
Artificial,
The clean floors become lava so I've practiced my aerobics,
Ugh my artistic inspiration is siphoned by this unfortunately accurate description, an obstinate mockery of my work, look at it sitting there all pompous yet still so superficial.
Blank canvas,
Infinite utensils,
Every little "mess" perfectly fills settles in its stanza,
Of graceful brushstrokes and triumphant crescendos to form my easel.
Insufferable antithesis,
Genocidal doctrine,
Insidiously contagious and unbearably loquacious,
Infecting homes content in their mediocrity and ensembles' sheik rebellious fashion.
A standoff at high noon,
Between libertarian creativity and authoritarian germophobia,
Both sides claiming a fair fight between equal rivals yet they both undermine each other through sabotage and flaunt their charm like geisha,
Who shall I choose?
Eh, I'll figure it out in the morning.
Categories:
unbearably, self,
Form:
Rhyme