Long Succumb Poems

Long Succumb Poems. Below are the most popular long Succumb by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Succumb poems by poem length and keyword.


My Youth In Asia

i was eight
the first time-
i saw Yin-Yang Mountain.
the height of it’s peak
contrasted by
the light on one side
dark on the other.
as the sun travels
from east to west
the color of the slopes change-
the light becoming dark
the dark becoming light.

i stand on the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain
watching the shifting
light and dark.
the line dividing the sinuous halves
is my being.
am I dark or light?
a white line or
a black line?
i am the curve between.
i am the difference.
i am the deciding factor.

i stand now 
beside the River of Life.
my feet bare-
i step into the cool waters
observing the shifting reflection
and shadow.
the current swirls the dark and the light.
this life giving, fluid filled gully
brings darkness when one is consumed
by its waters.
above the light is reflected-
below it is swallowed.

soothed i sit-
resting below the shelter
of the Tree of Constance.
the trunk is thick
made of layers of living matter within-
dead matter out.
the dead bark surrounds
the living core-
protecting. 
from this sturdy core 
branches shoot towards the light.
from those branches shoot buds-
which contain life-giving seeds.
the seeds fall to the ground below.

laying upon the dark
mineral rich earth-
i imagine.
below my body burrow
insects and roots.
they depend upon the fertile 
ground for survival.
humans have turned this earth into 
a burial ground for the fallen.
the rotting bodies consumed in darkness
feed the creatures who dwell
in the earth.
these departed whisper
knowledge to fallen seeds.
imparting wisdom-
to ensure growth.
I return to the peak-
of Yin-Yang Mountain.

from this peak i observe
the mixture around me.
here on this peak I know
the answers.
i am the wisdom.
this knowledge has paralyzed me.
with this gift i have been silenced.
i am the dividing line-
i am the question.
with faith I fall-
from the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain
into the icy waters of the
River of Life.
it’s turbulent ebb and flow
fills me with life 
and destroys me when dragged upon its floor.
i wash upon the shore
gasping for air-
clinging to the root.
I succumb.
i begin to rot-
feeding the earth-
that feeds the tree-
that thrives beside the river-
which dwells upon the slopes
of Yin-Yang Mountain.
here i will remain-
until discovered-
and then understood-
this 
my Youth in Asia.


China Clipper

Listen and you can hear the wind whisper 
the name of a lost ship and its skipper.
The wind’s name is Favonius, winged god
His sotto voce is but a whimper.

Gentle breeze doth tell of China Clipper 
Bound back toward London by English shipper
Lost from sight ten days out of Adelaide
for all those involved  a real fear gripper.

Fast  Lammermuir was used in the tea trade,
Built by W. Pile’s Company twas then made
Clipper’s capacity a  thousand tons   
With errant compass windjammer now strayed

Off course by three degrees vessel now runs,                                         
till Mate’s use of sextant now captain stuns
Ocean current is also a surprise
This phenomenon Captain Bell now shuns

The current wants to go counter clockwise
 Loss of ship’s control is what this implies
 Sails unable to give pull to the right
 though steersman at wheel with strength vainly tries

Lammermuir was in a terrible fight
Not turning right was a dangerous plight
All hands on deck knew their situation
Hard battle continued both day and night
                                                 
Exactly where was their lost location 
Question captain sought with much vexation
Average speed of Jammer was fifteen knots 
Get back on course or it’s their damnation

No welcome sight of other ships or yachts
Current’s tying captain’s stomach in knots
Break free now or else certain death will come
Possibility gives worrisome thoughts.

New day same latitude they’d started from
A three hundred mile circle left all numb
From circling current they couldn’t break free
Trying  all things they refused to succumb.

Lighten ship over the side went the tea
Sails pulled harder still that wasn’t the key
Rear stern chaser was next without effect
Flying, scared lady raced over the sea

Caught fast in a maelstrom of no escape
Swirling in circles of concentric shape
Ever decreasing circumference toward hole
Ever increasing speed toward yawing gape

West wind speaks no more of piteous sight
Wraps wings to cover eyes from ship’s bad plight
Finis, finis, Lammermuir sails no more
Ending day ends in blanket of black night.



Distance To London From Adelaide is:
10110 miles / 16270.47 km / 8785.35 nautical miles
                                       
Distance To Shanghai From Adelaide is:
4706 miles / 7573.57 km / 4089.4 nautical miles
Form: Rubaiyat

Cowl Lix Aged Language Lover

please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
   especially, encountering 
   the following conglomeration
   in matthew scott harris patois).

He readily admits writing inventive
   attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
   Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
   courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
   gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
   and certainly less
to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward 
   cogency, fancy ingenuity,
   levity, the inevitable 
   resultant wrought gobbledygook
   fascination for Lingua Franca
   feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
   and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
   sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
   finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
   swimmingly enervated 
   via erotic laced sentiments
   perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
   hollering, gesticulating floundering,
   (in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
   to avoid drowning at sea
   perchance comprehending passionate influence.

   Upon espying a signature poem of mine
   forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
   tib hush anonymous re:
   dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
   taking him/her to the brainy 
   (briny) deep brink
   Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
   aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
   alphabetic wanton soup,
   or figurative egg drop bub
   bling broth (el) doth brew)

   pronouns Sibyl affectation 
   affliction sans plethora,
   where each ladle full adrip with
   richly flavor Verdana Font lee
   and sincerely textured vocabulary.

   Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
   (blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
   suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
   particularly expectorating flashy 

   hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
   hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
   might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
   vis a vis plagiarize plethora 
  amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
   temptation to bask exultantly,
   professed glorious unrequited love
   announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:

Premium Member Caregiver On the Brink

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.)
Form: Narrative

Addiction

Dear ......,

Its over, it's finished, I mean it - we're through!
I thought it was me but now know it was you.
I'm done with your lies, your greed, my fixation
insatiable urge that precedes degradation.

It's cost me too much this affair of ours;
this obsession consumed me for years, days and hours.
Without you I'm free to flourish and thrive,
my sparkle returns, with my passion and drive.
The skin of shame peels slowly and soon 
I'll be free of your poison and flee my cocoon.

Your shadow remains and lurks all around,
One chink in my armour and soon you'll surround.
You'll smother me at my lowest ebb
and lure me back to your toxic web.
But once for you is never enough
I know that now, the truth is tough..

Ill never again succumb in your midst
to false claims of confidence, courage and grit.
Without you I'm changing, my fashion bespoke
One day you'll crawl past my invisible cloak.

My skin glows, my waist shrinks, my hair is now glossy.
My tissues are mending, my sick genes less bossy!
I hear peace without your seductive whisper
My heart thaws and ventures into the vista

I can search my soul and not feel empty:
the void replaced, my hope is plenty!
I'm starting to use the gifts that you hid,
The girl in the mirror is lifting her lid.

Peering into the world, clear eyes bright and blue
I touch, taste and smell, inhaling the view.
Less fear of your fog clouding my vision.
I love what I see, painting colours my mission...

When you rap on my brain, trying to grab my attention
I delve into my toolbox of mental distractions.
You'll lure me and stalk like the fool that you are
just to tempt me, just one, its only a jar...

My shield will deflect you with super-girl force!
My willpower steely, your shadow a ghost.
Your influence dwindles the stronger I grow'
your blood sucking shackles bleed into the snow.

Like the “matchstick girl” I've seen the light.
Your shadow shrivels  GIVE UP this fight!
You're losing, you're fading your voice is diminished.
Superfluous now, I don't need you - it's finished!

I'm saying so long, it was fun while it lasted.
Move on, to more fish you'll be flabbergasted..
There are many lost souls in this world to seduce
Not me though, not I, I'm cutting loose.
Its time to say goodbye cruel friend
I'm out, this really is the end!

Samantha Malone, December 2020.
Form: Rhyme


Evolving

Remember the innocent days of youth 
Our smiles would brighten up the evening sky
When we believed in honesty and truth 
And swore we were never going to die 
Dancing happily across life's green fields 
Feeling the sun's kiss upon our faces 
When we didn't need protection or shields 
And laughed about lacking social graces 
When the world was ours to roam and explore 
The give and take now an integral part 
We had no clue of what would lay in store 
Yet everyday was a thrilling new start

To see the world again through a child's eyes 
Crystal clear without deception or guise 


Ah yes many wonderful childhood days 
All too soon they are lost forevermore 
Remembered only in a passing haze 
Washed away like sand on a distant shore 
What is left behind is reality 
As we seek and search for our place within 
But with such diminished vitality 
Uncomfortable now in our own skin 
For like the four seasons changing our view 
We don't recognize who we have become 
So we try to go on and muddle through 
And to our fears we try not to succumb 

Yearning for those blissful days so long gone
When each new morn held rainbows in its dawn 


Now life has settled into a routine 
As we strive hard to try and forge ahead 
Like a constantly rewinding still scene
On new ground now we barely ever tread 
These middle years like slow mental climbers
Preparing us for when we do grow old 
When we will be considered old-timers 
And won't have to fit a desired mold 
Through the aging returns freedom once more 
As responsibility slips away 
And we start to feel as we did before 
Before our happy childhoods went astray

Oh the changing cycle, from birth to death 
Filling each day with promise on its breath 


Rising expectantly to greet each morn 
Knowing that soon time will be ours no more 
Our thoughts between earth and heaven are torn 
As we battle through our internal war
For to leave all we have loved is so hard 
Yet we yearn to see the world up above
From our time on earth, our souls are quite scarred
Needing to be touched once more by great love
In silent dreams we see the promised land 
Peace now settling in our hearts and minds 
As time slips through life's hourglass like sand 
And our memory so slowly unwinds 

We ride the chariot to take us home 
In heaven our souls will now freely roam
Form: Sonnet

Less Than Human

Oh, I have become
Satisfyingly numb 
Conceal the way you feel tonight
Oh, I have succumb
To a saturated crumb
Deal with the pain I feel damn right

I...have...become...undone,
A neglected, sad boy
Ease the dread frustration
Just give me some joy

Give me this bravery 
Give me attention
The right that's loverly 
Feels like I'm in detention
But, Lithium gives a helium high
This rum and coke, I can't deny
Give me something more
Not this feeling of sore
I will soar somehow
I want to, want to now
Not another pill to swallow
Or I'll feel less than human and hallow

Heartache and sore throat
Got me by the gravity afloat
Got me in your grasp once more
Just let me free through that door
I have been down with the fever...
Yet, I survived and am a believer...

I...have...become...undone,
A neglected, sad boy
Ease the dread frustration
Just give me some joy

Give me this bravery 
Give me attention
The right that's loverly 
Feels like I'm in detention
But, Lithium gives a helium high
This rum and coke, I can't deny
Give me something more
Not this feeling of sore
I will soar somehow
I want to, want to now
Not another pill to swallow
Or I'll feel less human and hallow

Just think for a moment
Don't you want freedom?
Gotta start to repent...in my only tent...
Captivity makes us feel numb
Don't you want me to be happy?
Instead, you make me feel crappy

I...have...become...undone,
A neglected, sad boy
Ease the dread frustration
Just give me some joy

Give me this bravery 
Give me attention
The right that's loverly 
Feels like I'm in detention
But, Lithium gives a helium high
This rum and coke, I can't deny
Give me something more
Not this feeling of sore
I will soar somehow
I want to, want to now
Not another pill to swallow
Or I'll feel less human and hallow

Oooh...let me feel love above all
I'm sick of being as stiff as a wall
I wanna belong, so I made this longing, tear-jerking song
Hoping someone out there can relate and sing along...along...
I wanna be gone, so I grab remaining hope
I wanna belong, so let me sing as I hang on this radiant rope

Boy, I...have...become...undone,
A neglected, sad boy
Girl, ease the dread frustration
Just give me some joy
I never meant to annoy...
I want to...I want to bring you joy...
Hm, a bravery
That's loverly...
Form: Lyric

Lacrimosa

He goes by the name of Lacrimosa
He is the plain picture of a man
Those who don’t know him see him as a monster
But you and I know better that he is a broken friend
His smile drips of sorrow
His walk is that of a footless ghost
And should you accept his outstretched hand
And succumb to the adoring nature of his gaze
He will lead you away to a dreary place
That he calls home
And the monster will sing sweet nothings to you
And hold you safely in his arms
And though the smile on his orchid face may weep for you
Do not be ungrateful, as it is for you
You can shudder and shake and claw to get away
But you need him as much as he needs you
This puppet man who hangs from a single string
Neck crooked and marbled and hanging to the side
Will frighten and disturb those who can’t see his face
But he will protect you from the ones who claim to love you dear
He’ll hold you close and wherever you go
He’ll be there by your side, his cold hand grasping your own
He’ll be everything you need so you’ll never be alone
He’ll share with you his tears and guilt and blame
And for these gifts he asks nothing in return
But your companionship and smile for only a small time
He knows you cannot stay forever by his side
So when you’re ready to say goodbye
He’ll let you go
And he’ll insist that you keep his gifts
But in time you may throw them away 
And turn your back on the weeping thing
Who gave all he had in your time of need
And let his crying fade away
But don’t look back or you’ll see him there
Extending his hand, begging to hold you in his arms once more
And should you choose to return to him
He will always welcome you
And make a place for you by his side
And one day you may decide
To snuff out the man on a string
To throw the gifts he gave back in his blotched, orchid face
And run far far away
So that never again will you see his smile so grayed
Or feel the icy sting of his clammy embrace
Never again will you sigh in the arms of a love once held dearer
Now burdened whenever they look in the mirror
With the image of what they at one time feared
Of a sad smile painted on the picture of a man
Neck crooked and marbled and hung by a string
Dangling a smile loose to the side
Tears scarring his cheeks
His arms open wide
A monster posing as a broken friend
Who goes by the name of Lacrimosa
Form:

Premium Member The Wolf's Tale

Whispered words from behind a wall
to cronies gathered hale and tall.
“Go on ahead.” He said. “Let me see.”
“If I can turn her sweet, on me.”

From within, she heard the tale,
the rye snickers, the wolves’ wails.
Yet, so like the doe in lantern light,
the wail entranced, did not cause fright.

Wide-eyed, stunned, the morsel stood,
in frozen stance within the wood
within his reach and steady glance,
the wolf approached, as if to dance.

With swaggering grace, he set fast pace,
a honeyed tongued Knight on the chase.
He spoke of honor of valorous deeds,
of his manly virtues, and she took heed.

“No, no, no,” said the Maid, she was shy.
“I’m afraid.” She said. “Do I hear a lie?”
He turned up her chin, and eye to eye,
he stroked her cheek and heard her sigh.

He offered her cake, this starving waif
with trembling hands, she took the bait
for upon his full lips , tongue and skin,
she could taste the sugar deep within.

He sought the warmth of blood and bone,
he thought the conquest all his own.
Yet, she held a hope buried deep within,
to bring forth the goodness, she saw in him.

Oh, she could well feel his aching need,
'twas his seedling soul, she sought to feed,
the prey, prayed, long to touch his heart
to give the wolf a brand-new start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many’s the times, his teeth came near
to the blue-red vein in her throat, 
and many’s the time the Universe stopped
like a dandelion seed afloat....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wolf in him balked for a short time,
tasted the joy of goodness’s wine;
loving, and feeling, and drinking anew,
what God has offered to each of you.

Could he extinguish this pure light?
Could he bring death to this delight?
Sorry, for the prey was the wolf within.
He was sore sorry; she’d let him begin.

Sorry, he could not grow in her arms.
Sorry, he could not succumb to her charms.
“Sorry,” was on the tip of his tongue
as he left, the prey on a run.

“Sorry.” said she, as her soul rose higher,
made stronger, though bathed in desire
like the fabled Phoenix so, she rose,
on the white wings of angels in repose.

A prayer floated back, as she drifted above
a prayer, she sent with her heart, to her love.
It echoed his sentiment of so many days.
“Sorry Love…” She said.

 “May the Wolf find his Way.”
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Christmas Cheer

T'was the night before Christmas and through the beer store
folks were procuring Christmas cheer by the score.
They came from near and far to get bottles of rum
to make yummy eggnog and to its pleasures succumb.

Our Ukrainian friends, Vlodymir and Prianka, 
decided to load up with bottles of vodka,                                                                 
and together with their generous friend Ebenezer                                                     
celebrated the season by consuming Bloody Caesars.

My Newfoundland friends made it abundantly clear                                                                                 that they planned to consume mass quantities of beer.                                                                         These would include several stouts, ales and lagers                                                                                   all from local breweries – not exactly a shocker!

Some friends braved the weather that was wet, cold and brisky,                                                          in order to purchase forty-ouncers of whiskey;                                                                                   and they all thought it was very good and responsible                                                                                   to consider drinking and driving completely unacceptable.

When the liquor store closed at a quarter to nine,                                                                                 the latecomers decided to purchase moonshine;                                                                                         and, admittedly, they all got a vicarious pleasure                                                                                       from surreptitiously buying from a local bootlegger.

On that Christmas Eve, several ladies did dine                                                                                            to a holiday feast that included bottles of wine.                                                                                         They sipped several glasses of sparkling, red and white                                                                          toasting Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night!
© Jim Healey  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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