Long On the brink Poems
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There seems to be silence within the serene night,
yet those indoors have eternal cries of unspoken fright.
One man drowns in chocolate, shamefully eying his hips,
as the woman next door kisses the hundredth man’s lips.
Two floors below, one screams out in pain,
as fatal anger has won the game.
The killer, shadowed, makes no remark,
but watches the blood flow, immersed in his soul of eternal dark.
Three doors across, an elderly man sits, rejected and broke,
hiding his face with tendrils of smoke.
His trusty cigarettes always at the ready,
when his finances where never steady.
Another flight down, a woman drowns in her agony sip by sip,
her life seems to slip by like a commercial blip.
Yet all she can think
is that her marriage is on the brink.
Before she fades into the night of another day,
all she remembers is throwing her wedding ring away.
Traveling down to the ground floor,
the troubles seem to equal more.
A woman tosses about in her anxious bed,
while her worries do pirouettes in her head.
Try to let the past and present go,
but the future looms like a horror show.
Outside, in the darkness, a piercing light shines
as a moth flutters by, on the still air it climbs.
It seems this beacon, as bright as the sun,
new hope has just begun.
The moth bangs itself against the glass,
trying to reach glory at last.
Yet no matter how much its antennae bend,
or wings grow fragile and not able to mend,
it seems like the only thing to do
to deal with its feelings, old and new.
Until it steps back and looks at the light
realizing that harming itself won’t set anything right.
With the last of its strength, ending its plight,
the moth flies off into the night.
At this moment, the man decides to rid his house of fat-packed glory,
as the woman on the ground floor takes a deep breath, changing her story.
The killer at large turns himself in,
the end to his years of sin.
The woman pours the bottles of wine down the drain,
finally she can remember her name.
The elderly man exhales his last puff of smoke,
the grueling memories no longer prod and poke.
And the woman kissing her hundredth man
lets him go, heart no longer sinking in deadly quicksand.
The light of dawn finally breaks,
and the darkness of the mind no longer takes
away from the people’s lives
as the light of hope is now by their sides.
Bone-drained, there is no respite, no split second of peace. The “sundowner”, a hyper-active toddler in a man’s vehicle, never sleeps nor sits.
When I succumb to that one precious moment of rest; I am awakened to a furnace running full blast in a freezing cold house and on a nineteen degree night. A butter knife has removed a window; the culprit and dementia-mind panics; he’s terrified of being trapped in a fire. There’s no arguing with dementia-mind; it’s best to play along with the his ideas.
Another day of madness and I awake to a frantically screeching doorbell; it’s his nurse. I've revived in the floor. A migraine faint pulled me down; I’ve had no sleep for eight nights, you see. Sweet respite…she says she’ll, “sit with him”, so I can lie down a bit; a pleasant miracle; such happenstance is a rarity.
Dementia-mind has no solutions, only hallucinations, delusions; absence of mind and aggression for the “sundowners”. I watch at breakfast, as he pours his milk upon the floor; he has no clue of what he is doing or why;
he stares, mindless. When the eyes go blank it’s obvious; he’s not in there. A robot gone haywire, used to be my Father. The last thing to go, were his mathematical skills. Dementia-mind has forgotten so many people; how to swallow, but recalls numbers…
“Who is that man?” he demands, pointing at himself in the mirror. My exhausted mind briefly forgets and I mistakenly reply, “You dad.” The firestorm is initiated; he calls me a, “liar”. Self recognition has failed him now; the flame of his mind is burning low; soon to extinguish.
He’s fed and dressed, but I’ve no time to eat; if he should sleep an hour today; I must cook for the week. It’s the only opportunity I have…when and if he sleeps. I must not go to the bathroom; he’ll break something or fall. I must hold myself until my sister arrives.
The “passives” are painful to watch, as they deteriorate, but the “sundowners” are constant exhaustion. I was in the ER, almost as much as, he. You see, there’s no one to care for the caregiver, but themselves and when they can’t, exhaustion and malnutrition escalate. Dementia-mind is round-the-clock work and two doing the work of six people, takes its’ toll. The disease never discriminates; it destroys everyone.
(My Father died with dementia, a form of Alzheimer's in 2003, after a 15 year battle.)
Any foodie on the brink
Of getting moody thinks
Of the dear dairy panacea
The culinary kinks
The cultural links
Gourmet high jinx
Of no.. not Cullen skink
CHEESE
As drinks clink then sink
Where the nods & the winks
Go to the food of the Gods
The stuff that really really stinks
CHEESE
A noble global endeavour
Arty farty dolcelatte party
Comte & cheddar
Smutty nutty double header
CHEESE
Palette caged by a rare
Cave aged Gruyere
Who can forget..appetite whet
Heat light stand manned..expands..
Milky glue or is it silky Moo Goo
Fanned..hands pulling strands
Eat not..planned fondue
Best damned bet
Always get a Raclette
CHEESE
Prouder of Gouda
Or louder Parmesan fan
Even when its powder?
Tilting to the built in love
For Stilton.. never wilting
Hard the calling card
Or more a Roquefort sort
Taught soft held aloft
French can’t bench moulds
Aristocratic blue vein
Dramatic wench holds court
Emphatic stench & stain
CHEESE
Whatever floats your boat
Maybe Goat gets your vote
Or those in the know
Gloat..chose sheep & Manchego
CHEESE
Young or well hung
Given time in the cellar
But won’t sneer at Paneer
Mozzarella can be stellar
Even give a damn
About dear Madame Edam
CHEESE
If you're of that whining ilk
Got that dining disease
Opining it’s just mouldy milk
Having a dig..you big tease…
Well won’t try to appease
CHEESE
Wary of the not rated
Scary squirting lube
You squeeze with ease
Flirting fairy out of a tube
Ill fated.. pre grated or
Diced into a nice cube
CHEESE?
Or drastic vices
Plastic elastic slices
Could go for Dairy Lea
Fell under the Babybel spell
Or pray tell maybe
Its Le Vache qui Rit
CHEESE?
Always a winning wheeze
Ideal at the beginning
Or end of a meal
No ratty ways of thinning
Natty diets lose to fatty riots
Choose ways of sinning
A ruse to amuse..
MORE CHEESE PLEASE
He says grinning
P.S If eating cheese before bed
Gives you a crappy nightmare
So what if you have fed
On cheese in these dreams
No scrappy schemes in your head
Led to days with rays of sunbeams
Teams of happy memes instead
Well it seems only fair
They told you and promised your breath will expire
Your soul will go missing like the crackling fire.
They told you -- they advised -- to accept it and live
Use up the time that your creator did give.
And you know all this time that your song will be cut
That the orchestra plays on but the players do not
You know all of this will turn to dust and to ash
And your face'll be preserved by a camera and a flash.
You get taller and dumber, living for Tomorrow
Waiting for your stomach to stop feeling so hollow.
You forget for a while that there's a grave in the future,
Waiting for you to be buried in as closure.
People die all around you and you think, "Oh.
That won't happen to me for a long time, no.
I am immortal, with an age in mind
It's a ripe old age that you can't just unwind."
And I understand since your hands aren't pale
That you haven't even worn the wedding dress and veil.
That it's silly to think of your funeral and legacy
When all you can think about are the formal dresses and dead chivalry.
Living forever is not for eternity.
It's the thought that you'll live up to ninety.
It's the rush in your blood when you're young and unafraid
It's the thrum of your legs when you stomp like a parade
It's the drumming in your chest when the best band starts
It's the springing in your veins that touches both your hearts
It's the lightheaded feeling between summer songs and love affairs
It's the bulletproof comebacks that get you all the ogling stares
And sometime around happiness and that family reunion
You forget about what they gave you as Life's one instruction:
That the future isn't forever, and today might be all you get
Even though you never had any of your own kids yet.
So even though it's unlikely -- and I hope to God that that is true
Know that you will die too.
You'll have a final bow.
So take a moment and inhale the beauty that is now.
Because we all think we're young -- just admit it: it's true.
No amount of birthdays will take that away from you
We are young, the world's out there to kiss our lips
Just on the brink of touching our fingertips.
Live, give, love, and conquer.
You're here just once for an unknown number.
Don't be afraid to die, and don't stress about what's after.
Leave with a suitcase and send me a postcard once you meet our Maker.
In a realm where shadows dance, the world will be but a howl of pain and ecstasy,
Where the purest among men, in their quest for sanctuary,
Shall find themselves teetering on the brink of weariness,
Facing a choice that echoes with the agony of despair and its emptiness.
The skies painted with hues of sorrow, the earth a canvas of tears,
In this melancholic landscape, the heart battles its fears.
The whispers of the wind carry secrets from ancient legends,
Tales of souls who wandered, seeking something more.
Among the ruins of dreams, where hope once proudly stood,
The echoes of laughter now drowned in a somber flood.
Those with pure hearts, in their silent vigil, watch the world crumble,
Clinging to fragments of light, as dusk turns endlessly gray.
In the labyrinth of thoughts, where consciousness flows like rivers,
The mind wrestles with torment, the body shivers.
Metaphors dance in the twilight, weaving ancient tapestries,
Stories of agony and ecstasy, in whispers, they are told.
The choice of agony, an open path where shadows tread,
Where the soul's lament is a song of the dead.
Yet, in the heart of darkness, where despair seems to reign,
There lies a flicker of hope, a respite from the pain.
For in weariness, there is a surrender, a silent plea,
To find solace in the void, where the spirit can be free.
The purest among men, with hearts heavy and worn,
Seek refuge in weariness, a sanctuary from the storm.
The howl of the world, a symphony of sadness and delight,
A paradox of existence, where day merges with night.
In this magical journey, where consciousness flows unbound,
The soul seeks meaning in the melancholic sound.
The choice of agony, a testament to human suffering,
Where weariness becomes a beacon, a guiding light.
For in the depths of despair, there lies a hidden grace,
A promise of redemption, in life's intricate maze.
The purest among men, in their silent contemplation,
Find strength in weariness, a profound revelation.
The howl of the world, a reminder of the fragility of being,
A call to embrace the pain, to find the true meaning.
In the heart of this melancholy, where shadows intertwine,
The soul discovers its essence, in the esoteric divine.
The choice of agony, a journey through the soul's night,
Where weariness reveals the path to the eternal light.
In crowded rooms I saw you but feared to say hello,
So I never invited you round for tea, instead I just wallow,
In this life without love, I know not of what I have lost,
And each slightest sun beam cripples in the nightly frost,
Twisted branches hug me, creeping over lumbered limbs
that know my smell, long for my touch and tangle in my sins,
I am desperate to break free from the blackened bark,
And rid me of this sombre paint, my colourless birthmark,
I long to smell the salty breaths of the wild and violet ocean,
But instead I numbly follow each life-long learnt emotion,
But frothy waves desert me,
And these twisted branches hurt me,
Though they say they love me dearly, they pierce into my sullen skin.
When I first met you love, I didn’t know what to think,
I’d been on stormy tides for years and I balanced on the brink,
I know not of what I am my love as I float with you beside,
And I know not of what I will now become on these tempest tides,
To take the risk of having you is to leave known loneliness,
But in this cloistered room my breaths unwillingly confess,
Your flowers bud from rotting wood in calm sporadic delight,
And blossom amongst dewy moss against a sunless fight,
Maybe we can share a brew my dear, a steamy cup of love,
“Please do not shy away from me”, sweetly sings your mourning dove,
But blooming orchids scare me,
And the roses thorns cling to me,
Though I long for your touch my love, I am nothing without my kin.
You say you have always known me love, as though you were always there,
Like you were always at the breakfast table and I always had a chair,
You’ve bought me out of darkness dear, without shadows I cannot hide,
I feel you watching me as I sleep, from my one lamped, one booked bedside,
You’re with me in my dreams my love but not keeping tears at bay,
But now when glassy eyes run deep I’m no longer in the clay,
There will be times when I desert you and leave your loving hold,
But know I’ll always think of you until I am grey and old,
I promise to always love you love and I’ll always be home for tea,
And I thank you love for loving me though at times I’ve wanted to flee,
Now caring words they warm me,
And growing forests holds me,
Though we are new born friends my love, just now I love you love, yes always.
You took me home, I drink to much because of you my livers turn to dust
You got me high my lungs have quit for the last time.
And because of you my obsession grows more and more with each passing day.
I do it more to feel the high but it just won’t come back to me.
I tried to walk but it’s so hard I just end up on my back staring into the sky.
You came to me to help me back onto to my feet.
And helped walk me back to the car even with my resistance you took me home.
I’m sick of the things you have said and done while leaving me high and dry.
I’m so messed up from what you've said and I’m on the brink of dieing out, of
this place you call my home.
I’ve tried to make since of all the things you have said to me, But it is impossible
to stay on track. Some people shouldn’t be alive. That’s how I feel.
Like I’m not needed in this life, even though it might hold something I should
uncover,
I’ve never searched these things in mind that should be found, but yet apparently
unattainable to keep track, it’s almost impossible to grab a hold of the thing that
are most vital to your life.
When you are in a life where all you do is getting smashed and seared. And you
try and try to help me up, but you took one move… You took the one wrong move...
You took me home. Because of you my life now sucks!
And it’s now whirling out of my control
I feel I’m fading from this place that you have brought me to
So take my away from here I need not to see your face in front of mine
So get away... away from me!
Why is it when you call my name, I’m put in a state of misery
I’m am so perplexed, can’t see straight
I’ve tried to go and find my-self it's just so frustrating
I can’t take the fact that you entered my life at an age that I do not know
And I try to ask my-self what can I do to help me out of this awful state
Of misery.
Than you made an effort to help me up, but then I see a whole new being and it’s
not you but somewhat else… I see… I see My-self!?!
I think I helped my soul from this death I think that I have come to my sixth
senses and have turned my life around.
But you still make that one last go to start this all another time
You took me home with this agony
And I ask you one last time why did you make my life this living hell!?!
War after war in the name of his sovereign king
A seventeenth century fury, devoid of all shame
Through pistol, cutlass and rapier, the world knew his name
So too does the Reaper, and beckons to Solomon Kane
.
A time to fight evil with evil, purge wickedness far from the land
Anger, murder and hatred, the cost of the toll
On the brink of destruction he falters, unsure of his stand
No riches, nor rapture enough to replenish his soul
.
A scream from the Devils Reaper
Cuts deep through the ice in your soul
“I have come for you, Solomon Kane”
“To claim back the Time, that you stole”
.
You wake from your world of dreams
The dreams that do haunt you, still
Renounced your evil ways, it seems
No - more you will live, to Kill
.
In penance here, behind these walls of virtue
“Oh! Father, do not make me beg, I pray
Cast from Heavens favour, crowned unholy
Let loose the Devils Children, for to play
.
The corpses piling high, upon the pyre
His bounty just a book and some stale bread
From regal and the noblest of beginnings
Alone there on the road, he’s left for dead
.
Dispense now with the boy you gutter demon
The daggers kiss then stole his life away
“If I kill you, demon, then I am bound for Hell”
“But that’s a price, that I will gladly pay”
.
Adorned by a broad-rimmed hat and a flowing cape
His journey’s long, his homeland’s where he’ll start
His task laid out before him, Merediths escape
No love, nor needless pity, in his heart
.
The preachers flock have changed now for the worse
They clamber for to tear the flesh, from bone
As MalachI bestowed on each, his curse
The Chapel cellar walls, their only home
.
The fate of defiance is fixing
The Hapless aloft, on the cross
Rain softens a cruel crucifixion
Sweet Meredith’s … not yet lost
.
A Priest sold his soul, to the Devil
At the castle, of Solomons birth
Welcome home, Solomon Kane
His friends, cut to bits in the dirt
.
“Forsake me not, Heavenly Father”
“Do I call on your Mercy, in vain”
Redemption lies there, at Your Alter
“RETURN TO ME” ….. Solomon Kane
.
There once was a time, full of burden
A time without hope, for a Saviour
When no-one would stand against Evil
“THAT TIME, MY LORD.... NOW IT IS OVER”
Day crackles clean and warm like burning coal
A new passion swam his veins, they bonded him
For that pheromone was strong in him, and abrim
The pack bayed towards the sunlight burning gold
And welcomed a brave brother wolf into the fold
For he who before the bear stood calm, his noble
Suit displayed, found his totem in a moment bold
And transmigrated his soul to the new realm possible.
He could not make destiny again, but destiny chose
For him, the wolf man everywhere was known. He
Was the hero wanted, yet scorned with circles closed
Like doors against him, for all his deeds of mercy.
But the dog gene made him a man's best friend still
And howling he brings the pack always to his will
Neither did they sit while any child or innocent ached
With fear or pain, and from the malice of evil intent.
The wolf man knew but little thought how each act
Propelled him to a higher level and another death sent
For seeds all die that spring to trees, and the same fact
Was true for him every new level he was to attain
While propelled upwards greater animals to become
He knew the bear level awaited him next in the chain
Of cycles. But for service alone his heart still hummed.
Nor did he know hes was hunted too, for one man firm
In his conviction to repay, the thing that from forest came
The thing massive in muscles, humble in every term
That dared the forking tongue of a livid flame
To retrieve a child, the only child the mother left behind
The child that was enblem and memory of that love
Whose death would perish his flesh and torment his mind
The wolf-like thing, the man beast on wings, dove
In from above, and came out with life between his jaws
Hair fried, and limping as if with injured paws
And the throng of them that rush upon the scene then
Making a barrier between it and curious but cruel men
And how it seemed in thin air he vanished without reward
And cause a grateful father to follow the trail full and hard.
Did he have the hours to find him still, to meet the kind
That make us wretched because our hearts are blind
Did he with ego melted, and with a different disposition
Qualify to know and taste the foreign truth of transmigration
To destinies on the brink of fate, and death at the gate
Gasping and gulping, still in the grasp of time we wait.
A long time passes and I am still here
Silently insulting, brutally weeping
But then I lift my head from the ground
To see him standing there
Towering over me in all endeavor of quietude
Was he there the entire time?
I feel his eyes but see only his stare
I am dreaming again
Has he returned to guide me?
To frighten me back into reality?
Who are you, entity of fear?
I know death draws me near—
But why, oh mystery, do you linger here?
He never answers me, though still I try
Why are you here?
Must you hate me too?
He pulls me up staring me down
His thin, sophisticated form makes me feel hollow
Empty features burning my vision
As he bends facing me
I never want to see your face again
See, that’s why I hide. . .
Why, I ask, my voice croaking
Tell me why. . .
He takes my hand as I cringe
Walking me to the edge, his head tilted my way
I shake like a dried leaf on the brink of autumn
A small, pathetic part of me wants to thank him
To believe all of this. . .is right
How though, can I trust his blank sincerity?
I am the only. . .the lonely
But there he is beside me
His long fingers intermingling in mine
The sense of fear and confusion
Sticking to me like grime
I am the Slender Man—I am—your friend
And for once I let him embrace me
I cannot bear to flee
He tenses and tightens his grip
Dreading I may slip away in panic
Please stay. . .please stay
Soon it will all just go away. . .
He is warm against me—alive
Breathing slowly, I feel the beating of his heart
Bashing my nerves—blurring my mind
Tingles shoot down my spine
As I stand there, so close to him
We watch a sagging sunset
As tears flow down my infected eyes
I have learned to fly. . .to embrace the lies
Squeezing my hand he holds me close
As the black sun wearily lifts its head one last time
Only to sink from its post
I never want to see your face again
See, that’s why I lie
Slender Man cradles me in his tendrils
Surrounding me like I am its sickly nourishment
Whispering comforting falsehood
I gaze beyond the wasteland
Beyond myself. . .
But there I find nothing
Hand in hand we walk over the edge
Heading yonder into the sheer, sweet
Nothingness
The demons watch us disappear
Grinning from ear to ear
I cannot see them now. . .
But I can smell their fear
-January 26, 2013-