Long Unbearably Poems

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


Premium Member Our Baby Angels- Collaboration

Weeping shall never become a thing of past,
        I feel this heartache will always feel free to last.
When I can no longer stand the pain of loss's fear,
   I shall become nothing but a lonely woman here.
I know I need redemption and I know I need it fast,
        but these memories of my sweet boy bring a crimson tear.

        He was but an innocent child when he suddenly died,
I laid there on my cold bed and continually cried.
No more reasons to live as my heart also stopped beating,
            and these moods of depression keep repeating.
I just couldn't cope no matter how hard I tried,
   this pain is so intense, so unbearably defeating.

I held my dead baby boy to my beating heart,
        until at last this mother and child had to part.
I laid him in his eternal coffin bed,
   standing like a stone through his funeral and words said.
At his grave I sang for my little sweetheart,
        and on his coffin I laid bright roses red.

        In the days and months that passed I was hollow,
a shadow of me and food I could not swallow.
            I went deep and inner and I let no love inside,
I remained unresponsive no matter who tried.
   Often, wandering a path to his grave, I do follow- 
                  Will the day come that I can put this death aside.

_________________________
January 9, 2018


Poetry/Rhyme/Our Baby Boys
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9813-15-01
All Rights Reserved.  Broken Wings/Laura Loo/Collaboration
Form: Rhyme


Nip At the Cauldron

-Nip At The Cauldron-

My mind full, like the moon outside. My brethren say; '’Sleep well, worthy adversary.’’ As he ventured forth unto his domain, for a final nip of the cauldron before hitting the sack. 

I lay restless, unable to commit to my new found lover. Lest it shouldn’t be so. I am you. A demon rung the bells of my adored solitude and grasped away at thee. The pungent odor of Sulphur filled my lungs heavy with soot.
 
The night remained an insomniacs dream as I heard the succubus calling. The energy piercing my skin, as I called the enchantments that my father once taught me. I was protected, but not invincible.  

Hear and there, a shadow standing over me. Whispering indistinguishable language, that no man would want to decipher. Tapping the furniture to make sure of the unbearably long night ahead. Feeling the entities hatred. Limitless burden, all I wanted was calm silence. But, I can also hear my horse carrying the same unease as I.  

Or at least, I did for a time. I can no longer hear of the outside world. Only the whispers. The sound of silence twas' no more. It grew louder and louder. As if, my horses fate was in spite. It threw its head on my lap. To enlist my heart with fear. The darkness grew as I came to realize, I was dead.
© Mr Pickles  Create an image from this poem.

Evil Abound

Evil abound in the dark night air, 
The watcher is waiting, 
As you feel it’s blood thirsty stare.

Sweat starts to form 
On your brow and your cheek 
As fear grabs your voice 
So you can not even speak. 

Icy fingers of terror 
Run down your neck to your back, 
As you nervously anticipate 
The demons vicious attack 

Palm to your chest 
You feel your heart race 
As the blood starts to slowly 
Drain from your face, 
White as if paper 
Ashen colored with fright 
As you imagine the unbearably 
Painful first bite 

Fear in your heart 
And tears in your eyes 
As you try to be brave 
And await its surprise 

It steps from the shadows 
And into full view 
The hideous evil 
That was waiting for you 

With the light you now see 
A form and its shape, 
Wondering what’s in store 
And wanting death over rape 

But to your relief 
Through tear filled eyes you now see, 
It’s not evil or hateful 
As you believed it to be 

It stands in the light 
Unthreatening and at ease, 
Not wanting to harm 
But only to please.
 
The wings on its back 
Are now spread wide and of white, 
That shine with a pleasing 
Soft gleaming light 

Its features so beautiful 
And wondrous to see, 
Your fear and the terror 
Are suddenly set free 
For this is not a creature 
Of death, evil or hate, 
But a loving blessed angel 
From heavens front gate 

In that moment it was clear 
All your life you did waste 
For fearing the unknown 
And judging in haste
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member ''To Err Is Human: To Forgive, Divine''--Alexander Pope

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?
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Things I think now that I'm old

The older I get, the more I forget the names of colors.
Would you call this paint amber, burnt ochre, or clay?
Would it were the same with all of my dolors.
But age hasn’t washed any of my dolors away.
I finally saw hills as old as me,
and it was a pitiful sight to see,
with many a crevice and facial scar,
and so, pointing at the hills, 
I asked my dearest wife, Shar,
"Is that what I look like?"
She said, “No, that's is not what you look like.
That’s what you are."

Only two o'clock ~ still an hour till it's three.
Time's passing slower than eternity.
Now it's four, and as even the clock's cuckoo can see ~
I'm having trouble with this end-of-life monotony.
How much longer till it's five o'clock ~
and I can put this head of lettuce on the chopping block?
Tick ~ tock ~
tick ~ tock ~
tick~ tock...
That's life ~ in a game with grandpa ~
running down the clock.

As I reflect on my old body’s daily decay, 
I wonder ~ did God really mean to do it this way?
Couldn't He have let me journey to life's end, whole and entire,
instead of having part after part of me periodically misfire?
You assert emphatically, "Yes! He really meant to do it this way!"
Okay.
When you're old, you know what's really insane?
It's when you're going down memory lane,
but you find nobody there
with whom a memory to share.
And you wonder ~ am I in the right brain?

My route home seems to have been mislaid.
I have a feeling I've walked way past the Fire Brigade.
And where's that street
where the park and the bicycle path meet?
I'm completely lost! ~ My God!
I'm so afraid.
One thing when you get this old
is that your body can get so unbearably cold,
because your skin gets so thin,
it lets all the iciness in,
and then a hot partner is worth their weight in gold.

You know how it is
when cola loses its fizz.
That's kinda what happened here.
And what can I say but, 'Sorry, my dear?'
I kinda feel like I've flunked the pop quiz.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead.
Rather have everyone don a motley party hat.
And if anyone's inclined to cry,
please say, "Don't shed a tear for this old guy,
cuz he's gonna live it up ~ in the sweet bye and bye.
© Rio Jansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


The Grave

It’s a constant battle with my mind
Rehearsing things I have left behind
Reviewing scenarios like a thesis in school
Visualizing  moments that were unbearably cruel.
The video seems to be on repeat
As I begin to slowly retreat.
While others dance in the refreshing rain
I feaster in old familiar pain.
As the predators smile in utter glee
I am left feeling  vacant…. Completely empty.
I know that I can never get back time
It’s time that seems to be my crime
I Wasted it on fruitless endeavors
Filled with delusion, while thinking I was clever
I am not where I want to be
 I know there is a light set before me
I am not what others once knew
But, at times, it is hard to continue to pursue
Damaged they call it, jaded they say
I am diamond, on fire, being purified each day.
Breaking the cycles
Destroying the lies
Does somebody hear my little girl cries?
You heal as you grow 
And grow while you heal
Guarding the gates from those that like to steal.
People are funny, they never admit
Can this be all there is? Will I ever leave this pit?
I am locked in a cage of my own
How do I get out? I was never shown.
Missing what was...    instead of embracing what will be
This trapped door has me in a place, but I am holding the key
Only love from another can break down these walls
I know he can see me as I crawl.
When you’re down on your knees
You can finally see
It’s a touch from God that can set you free!

By: Sabina Nicole
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member - I Dream -

                      The night was unbearably barren and cold
                       - annihilated details of the celestial bodies
                              Stars flung away by just a roar
                Purple moon split as cardboard ... crumbled as a moth
                             The comet's tails were set on fire
                        catastrophic flames raged through the night
                 Naked marble statues with empty eyes that don't flinch
                  left behind the smell of aged conditioner and sweat
                  Their existence consequently cannot be recognized
                     Is the key of the present bound to the past ?
                            Their embrace instantly endeared me
                            broken hearts marbles lost the match
                         A dream I will never be able to document
                            I slept under the haunted night lamp
                                no princesses attended the ball
                                       - don't kill my hero
Form: Narrative

So close yet so far

So close yet so far

You were right there.
Close enough that if I leaned
just a little more
the space between us would have vanished.

Our shoulders almost touching,
your breath folding into the quiet air,
my hands pretending to rest calmly
while every nerve in me
reached for you.

It is a strange ache, 
to miss someone
while they are sitting beside you.

I wanted something small.
Your hand in mine.
My fingers tracing the outline of your face.
A kiss that didn’t need witnesses.
Just proof that the distance I felt
wasn’t real.

Hours passed like held breath.
I memorized the warmth of you
without touching it.
I loved you without moving.

And when I left,
my hands were empty, 
but my heart
was unbearably full.

Premium Member The Hidden Power in Times of Burden

The Hidden Power in Times of Burden

In times when the burden is heavy when life is unbearably hard,
chaotic sad furious disappointed caught in the grip of tight duality,
I feel powerless to free myself from the nets that hold me captive,
yet with each burdened step I learn the meaning of power that sleeps within me.

Bitter experiences precious lessons guide me toward hidden growth,
the hidden power within me emerges rising up when I fall down,
life's lessons become my true mentor guiding me to be whole,
I embrace myself as I am recognizing the power that I have.

This life story one day will be told as a story of triumph,
when I return to where I began the place where I need to be,
I will look back at this journey as proof that I have grown,
that I have thrived in times of heavy unbearable tight burden.

Chaotic sad furious disappointed caught in duality I feel powerless,
but with each burdened step I learn the meaning of power bitter experiences lessons,
guide me toward growth the hidden power emerges rising up,
when I fall life's lessons become mentor guiding me to be more whole always.

I embrace myself recognizing the power life's story will be told triumphantly,
when I return to where I began the place where I need to be eternally,
looking back at the journey as proof that I have grown and thrived,
in times of heavy burden chaotic sad furious disappointed tight life.

Powerless to free myself but with each step I learn the meaning of hidden power,
bitter precious experiences lessons guide me toward unseen growth,
the power within me emerges rising up when I fall lessons become eternal mentor,
guiding me to be whole embracing myself recognizing the power I always have.

Life's story will be told as triumph when I return to the beginning there,
where I need to be looking back at the journey as proof of growth,
in hard times of burden chaotic sad furious disappointed tight,
I have learned the meaning of hidden power that emerges rising me from falling.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Wake Up Humanity Wake Up

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.

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