the cliffs of our lives

The Edge
"I slipped while shaving my arms !"


How can you return
After words like those?
How can you try to be a part of a life
That came so close to ending?


The deep pain and depression
That drives me
To hide from others,
Causes some
To try for that final escape.


Deep down,
We want to be noticed:
The center
Of others unwavering attentions.
But we don't have the strength,
Or we deny ourselves the chance
To find that person
Or persons
Who also needs
The love and attention
Of a friend.


I cannot believe
That anyone can live
Without teetering on the edge
Of a bottomless canyon of depression.
There is that voice
That whispers from deep inside,
That if we jump
People will notice,
And they will show pity.


So many things are done
For other's pity,
Or for other causes
That are just substitutes
For the loss we have inside,
Left by the breaking
And tarnishing of friendships,
And the changes inside of us
Which take away the desires
Of our childhood,
And change
To the foreign dreams
Of adulthood,
With which we have no experience,
No middle-ground,
To learn what is to come,
And what we are to do.


We walk into life
In total darkness
And grab onto the first things we find.
Through childhood,
We fondle these carefree friendships.
But entering into
The world of changing bodies,
And exploding consciousnesses,
We are thrown
From all that we love,
And are forced to adapt.


Change is never welcomed,
But when you are alone
Among past friends
Who are undergoing the same,
Who you were
Seems to disappear,
And who you are
Seems to be meaningless
In all of the chaos.


The end will always come,
But some cannot wait
When the world of Play Doh and Legos,
Crumbles
To the world
Of appearances and achievements.


Starting over
With a new, blank slate
Is unbearable,
And
-unfortunately-
Some wish,
And some succeed,
To forfeit the game -
Forever.


How can you tell one of the lost
That you know how they feel,
When you are lost
Yourself?


What can you say?
What can you do?


When the wreck of emotions
Decides to end the torture,
How can you convince them
To wait for the good things
That are to come?


Savoring future lives and loves
In our dreams
Only heightens the pain,
And we all are searching
For that cure-all
Which only is available
In death,
If that is an end at all.


I wish to tell you friend,
That I was one soul
Who needed you.
You never let me in,
You never welcomed my presence.
I am so hurt
That you could shove my love
Back in my face,
And then accuse the world
Of being so cold.
Instead of searching
For the exit to be forever remembered,
Try the grand entrance
To the world
You have been ignoring,
With your back to the crowd,
And your eyes
On the canyon below.


She turned staring out the window, folding her arms so that I might think that the scars had vanished. I don't know where her mind wandered, whether she flashed back to that moment on the cliff and wished she hadn't been so foolish to fail. The world was silent around us, even in the noise of our surroundings. She continued to stare off and away from me, and I longed to say something to warm her heart. But I stayed in silence also, wishing I could kiss the scars of her pain, and lead her away from the cliff, with her trembling hand in mine. But I could do none of that, and I saw myself walking up beside her on the edge, staring out at the end which beckoned her. But I was unable to tell her of the beginning, I had to offer her.

"Please, next time, shave the side of the arm, that has hair!," I cried.


The Apple of the Mind's Eye
i can't tell you what i think:
whether the world will collapse
or turn in on itself
And choke all life,
but i do know that friendships can last
and they can be worth the gold
that people hands have been worn
trying to find,
and for which lives have been sacrificed
to attain its shine.


i wish for tomorrow
that i could wake up
and be enveloped in the arms of everyone i love,
but i know that it could never come true,
not even in the arms
of those one or two
for whom my the world turns,
and from whom
i see my position on this planet
and by whom i can gauge my speed
and determine my acceleration.


to need a tow truck
on the celestial highways
is like needing someone to spoon your food,
it can't be worth it:
it can't be worth living.
one needs to be out driving,
ripping around corners
in a car which you're unsure can hold together
even if it was just pelted by rain.
when one's eyes are clogged by the exhaust
from everyone else's tailpipes,
and your throat is torn
by the screams
of everyone else's pain,
that is when you can raise your hand
and tell the teacher
that you are alive,
and ask to go to the bathroom.


to take:
you need to give all that you have,
forget all that you have not,
and offer up
all that you can reach.
if something is in your grasp,
and you do not grab hold,
then the dream that flies along with it,
will falter
and fall to the earth
to be trampled.
one needs to snatch it out of the sky,
pull it down to your eyes,
peer at all of its wonder,
share your gold with others,
and ask people to take it
and show it to others.


a friendship
is a caterpillar that has never entered
its cocoon.
all of the excitement and mystery
of the changes that can occur
are neglected in a friendship.
no one enters the cocoon
in hopes of becoming a butterfly
until they think
they have found
their love interest,
so they spin their shelter,
but more often that not,
the love they had cocooned for
has left to other parts
while they were in their transformation,
and as a result
they come out only as moths.


eve found the apple
which she had seen so many commercials for,
she purchased it
and outside of the store,
consumed so much by the thrill,
she tried it.
she was consumed,
it was everything she had seen advertised
and much more.
she entered the store once more,
but this time
sneaking out another apple without paying.
she ran home to adam
as fast as she could
and beckoned him to try it.
adam was weary,
for he had heard
of the surgeon general's warning,
but the excitement ate him up also,
and he tried it.
adam and eve revelled in the euphoria
as the thrill of that fruit
coarsed through their stomachs
and trickled out into their limbs.
they felt a new life bursting forth inside of themselves,
they wondered at the changes,
but they did nothing to try and stop them.
the world spun
and they laid back
and worked on their tans.
days passed,
years slipped by,
but moments were just moments
amid all of their joy,
and they failed to see the changes
that were creeping up on them.
one day adam strained himself, bending over.
the next night eve could not see the stars as clearly.
they ignored all of the problems,
for problems had never been there for them.
their skin wrinkled,
and they slowed down,
but their lives went on unchanged,
all they did
was to cover up the folds,
and think slower.
their mending
fixed the torn seams for awhile,
but they ripped again and again,
till the moment
when they teetered on the edge.
suddenly in a state of horror,
at being ripped from their delusions.
they looked at each other
and screamed in fright at all of the changes.
neither looked the same
as the moments of those first bites,
and as they said their forced goodbyes,
they realized that they had not eaten apples,
but had swallowed the truth
without chewing,
and now they were choking on all of the reality
that was catching up to,
and swallowing them as well.


you can wrap yourself up in a towel
of disbelief,
or smear a reality block all over your skin,
but the world will always lie
just off the coast of your mind,
waiting for the fog to lift,
and its chance to sail in
and unload all of its treasures,
and set loose all of its plagues.


the world can live in a state
where conflicts never develop,
but when one searches for the meanings of life,
they can only find
the shafts of what was,
and the husks
of what may have been.
to discard the present
with the high hopes
of a future dream,
then the future that waited
will be lost
and replaced with a present that is always present
and never past
and never future,
and never the thing that you had thought
it could have been.
if you blind yourself to something
with which you are disgusted,
then you will be blind also
to its offspring
which is the most beautiful of dreams,
and the most splendid of fantasies.


The Ark That Wouldn't Float revised
sprinkle the world
with the charm
you possess so much of.
radiate all of that goodness
that lies untouched
deep inside.
explode
with all of the kindness
that you have been dying to let out.


I.
the sun shimmered on the horizon
colored in the oranges and reds
of its dusk attire.
it rested upon the surface
of the ocean
and looked back
at all that had passed.
far off
on the opposite horizon,
the darkness
was creeping up
and devouring
all that the sun had cultivated
during this day.
the sun could hear
the distant bellowing of the moon
as it laughed at the sun's departure.
as the sun sank deeper
and deeper into the sea,
the moon started to rise,
along with its militia of stars.
The darkness marched in order, and quickly overtook
most of the sky
that had once shone blue.
the sun fell farther and farther,
pulled down into the waters,
and the moon called out,
before it dissapeared,
" the world is mine once more.
i can do what i please.
look at how i scare them,
as they run to their homes
and turn on their artificial suns.
they are weaklings,
and will be crushed by my hands.
"
the sun,
losing its struggle to stay afloat,
watched as the last of the blue
was being ravaged by the forces of darkness,
and before it was submersed completely,
it cried out to the moon,
"i will return
to pull the world
from your evil grasp.
whatever you damage,
i can recover.
whatever you try,
i can undo.
there will never be a chance
for you darkness,
until the day that i burn out,
and fade away.
" the moon
upon his throne in the sky laughed harder.
the laughter rocked through the sky as he roared,
"you will come again,
only to be pushed back under.
the day that you will fade is near,
and when it comes
you will be reduced to yet another
of my army,
but a star
in the universe
i call my own.
there can be no future for you:
light can never shine forever!"
and the sun fell under completely,
and the moon reclaimed the entire sky,
and he sat upon his thrown
and watched the people hurrying around the planet,
huddling around their lights,
which where fading fast.


II.
the fountain of youth
takes its water
from the well of life.
and the well of life is fed
by the river of immortality.
people search for the fountain.
they scour countryside,
they climb the highest mountains,
but the rivers they cross,
and the wells they pass by
are those wells of life,
and rivers of immortality.
in their hasty search
for that mysterious fountain
which is to return their youth,
they pollute the wells
and dam the rivers.
and when the waters cannot flow,
then the fountain cannot bubble forth
its magical remedy.
the mystery behind the wonder of that fountain,
is that when the wells of life
and the rivers of immortality
are taken care of,
then the babies and children
of the new generation have the water they need to grow,
and bring new life to the world.
for bringing life to the world,
and nourishing its growth
is the route to the youth
that you have outgrown.
live that youth that you seek
through the childhood
of a child you brought into the world,
or helped stay here.


III.
the rain fell,
and it fell.
days,
weeks,
months passed,
and the rain continued to pour down.
the life that covered the land
was choked by the rising waters.
pieces of civilization
floated upon the saving branches.
the water rose and it rose,
till but the peaks
of the highest mountains
remained above it.
sitting upon the grass,
in the last remaining meadow,
was an aged man,
who sat hunched over,
the victim of his age,
and a bad back.
he looked out onto the waters,
watching the remains
of his world
float by.
all that he had ever known,
all that he had ever seen
had been destroyed
by this flood.
his eyes strained through the light filtering through the heavy clouds.
coming towards his little patch of land
was a boat:
a giant vessel
that bobbed in the giant waves.
as it came closer,
he could smell familiar scents,
that he now realized
he had been missing,
and he heard the sounds
that had once filled his ears.
closer and closer it came.
the sounds and the smells grew stronger.
he started to cringe,
as it started to overwhelm him.
but the boat came closer and closer.
finally the boat
was right off shore.
the sounds were ripping apart his ears,
and the smells were scratching his nose.
standing it no longer,
the man climbed to his feet,
and clutching a stone
in his frail hands,
he threw it at the boat.
the rock hit the hull,
and the side toar open.
screaming animals
fell into the coarse water
as the boat sank.
the old man watched,
as the last piece of the boat
fell under the waterline,
and as the last animal cried for help.
and when the air grew calm,
and the clouds dissapeared,
he sat back down
and smiled,
and looked out
and continued to stare.
 The Edge
"I slipped while shaving my arms !"


How can you return
After words like those?
How can you try to be a part of a life
That came so close to ending?


The deep pain and depression
That drives me
To hide from others,
Causes some
To try for that final escape.


Deep down,
We want to be noticed:
The center
Of others unwavering attentions.
But we don't have the strength,
Or we deny ourselves the chance
To find that person
Or persons
Who also needs
The love and attention
Of a friend.


I cannot believe
That anyone can live
Without teetering on the edge
Of a bottomless canyon of depression.
There is that voice
That whispers from deep inside,
That if we jump
People will notice,
And they will show pity.


So many things are done
For other's pity,
Or for other causes
That are just substitutes
For the loss we have inside,
Left by the breaking
And tarnishing of friendships,
And the changes inside of us
Which take away the desires
Of our childhood,
And change
To the foreign dreams
Of adulthood,
With which we have no experience,
No middle-ground,
To learn what is to come,
And what we are to do.


We walk into life
In total darkness
And grab onto the first things we find.
Through childhood,
We fondle these carefree friendships.
But entering into
The world of changing bodies,
And exploding consciousnesses,
We are thrown
From all that we love,
And are forced to adapt.


Change is never welcomed,
But when you are alone
Among past friends
Who are undergoing the same,
Who you were
Seems to disappear,
And who you are
Seems to be meaningless
In all of the chaos.


The end will always come,
But some cannot wait
When the world of Play Doh and Legos,
Crumbles
To the world
Of appearances and achievements.


Starting over
With a new, blank slate
Is unbearable,
And
-unfortunately-
Some wish,
And some succeed,
To forfeit the game -
Forever.


How can you tell one of the lost
That you know how they feel,
When you are lost
Yourself?


What can you say?
What can you do?


When the wreck of emotions
Decides to end the torture,
How can you convince them
To wait for the good things
That are to come?


Savoring future lives and loves
In our dreams
Only heightens the pain,
And we all are searching
For that cure-all
Which only is available
In death,
If that is an end at all.


I wish to tell you friend,
That I was one soul
Who needed you.
You never let me in,
You never welcomed my presence.
I am so hurt
That you could shove my love
Back in my face,
And then accuse the world
Of being so cold.
Instead of searching
For the exit to be forever remembered,
Try the grand entrance
To the world
You have been ignoring,
With your back to the crowd,
And your eyes
On the canyon below.


She turned staring out the window, folding her arms so that I might think that the scars had vanished. I don't know where her mind wandered, whether she flashed back to that moment on the cliff and wished she hadn't been so foolish to fail. The world was silent around us, even in the noise of our surroundings. She continued to stare off and away from me, and I longed to say something to warm her heart. But I stayed in silence also, wishing I could kiss the scars of her pain, and lead her away from the cliff, with her trembling hand in mine. But I could do none of that, and I saw myself walking up beside her on the edge, staring out at the end which beckoned her. But I was unable to tell her of the beginning, I had to offer her.

"Please, next time, shave the side of the arm, that has hair!," I cried.


The Apple of the Mind's Eye
i can't tell you what i think:
whether the world will collapse
or turn in on itself
And choke all life,
but i do know that friendships can last
and they can be worth the gold
that people hands have been worn
trying to find,
and for which lives have been sacrificed
to attain its shine.


i wish for tomorrow
that i could wake up
and be enveloped in the arms of everyone i love,
but i know that it could never come true,
not even in the arms
of those one or two
for whom my the world turns,
and from whom
i see my position on this planet
and by whom i can gauge my speed
and determine my acceleration.


to need a tow truck
on the celestial highways
is like needing someone to spoon your food,
it can't be worth it:
it can't be worth living.
one needs to be out driving,
ripping around corners
in a car which you're unsure can hold together
even if it was just pelted by rain.
when one's eyes are clogged by the exhaust
from everyone else's tailpipes,
and your throat is torn
by the screams
of everyone else's pain,
that is when you can raise your hand
and tell the teacher
that you are alive,
and ask to go to the bathroom.


to take:
you need to give all that you have,
forget all that you have not,
and offer up
all that you can reach.
if something is in your grasp,
and you do not grab hold,
then the dream that flies along with it,
will falter
and fall to the earth
to be trampled.
one needs to snatch it out of the sky,
pull it down to your eyes,
peer at all of its wonder,
share your gold with others,
and ask people to take it
and show it to others.


a friendship
is a caterpillar that has never entered
its cocoon.
all of the excitement and mystery
of the changes that can occur
are neglected in a friendship.
no one enters the cocoon
in hopes of becoming a butterfly
until they think
they have found
their love interest,
so they spin their shelter,
but more often that not,
the love they had cocooned for
has left to other parts
while they were in their transformation,
and as a result
they come out only as moths.


eve found the apple
which she had seen so many commercials for,
she purchased it
and outside of the store,
consumed so much by the thrill,
she tried it.
she was consumed,
it was everything she had seen advertised
and much more.
she entered the store once more,
but this time
sneaking out another apple without paying.
she ran home to adam
as fast as she could
and beckoned him to try it.
adam was weary,
for he had heard
of the surgeon general's warning,
but the excitement ate him up also,
and he tried it.
adam and eve revelled in the euphoria
as the thrill of that fruit
coarsed through their stomachs
and trickled out into their limbs.
they felt a new life bursting forth inside of themselves,
they wondered at the changes,
but they did nothing to try and stop them.
the world spun
and they laid back
and worked on their tans.
days passed,
years slipped by,
but moments were just moments
amid all of their joy,
and they failed to see the changes
that were creeping up on them.
one day adam strained himself, bending over.
the next night eve could not see the stars as clearly.
they ignored all of the problems,
for problems had never been there for them.
their skin wrinkled,
and they slowed down,
but their lives went on unchanged,
all they did
was to cover up the folds,
and think slower.
their mending
fixed the torn seams for awhile,
but they ripped again and again,
till the moment
when they teetered on the edge.
suddenly in a state of horror,
at being ripped from their delusions.
they looked at each other
and screamed in fright at all of the changes.
neither looked the same
as the moments of those first bites,
and as they said their forced goodbyes,
they realized that they had not eaten apples,
but had swallowed the truth
without chewing,
and now they were choking on all of the reality
that was catching up to,
and swallowing them as well.


you can wrap yourself up in a towel
of disbelief,
or smear a reality block all over your skin,
but the world will always lie
just off the coast of your mind,
waiting for the fog to lift,
and its chance to sail in
and unload all of its treasures,
and set loose all of its plagues.


the world can live in a state
where conflicts never develop,
but when one searches for the meanings of life,
they can only find
the shafts of what was,
and the husks
of what may have been.
to discard the present
with the high hopes
of a future dream,
then the future that waited
will be lost
and replaced with a present that is always present
and never past
and never future,
and never the thing that you had thought
it could have been.
if you blind yourself to something
with which you are disgusted,
then you will be blind also
to its offspring
which is the most beautiful of dreams,
and the most splendid of fantasies.


The Ark That Wouldn't Float revised
sprinkle the world
with the charm
you possess so much of.
radiate all of that goodness
that lies untouched
deep inside.
explode
with all of the kindness
that you have been dying to let out.


I.
the sun shimmered on the horizon
colored in the oranges and reds
of its dusk attire.
it rested upon the surface
of the ocean
and looked back
at all that had passed.
far off
on the opposite horizon,
the darkness
was creeping up
and devouring
all that the sun had cultivated
during this day.
the sun could hear
the distant bellowing of the moon
as it laughed at the sun's departure.
as the sun sank deeper
and deeper into the sea,
the moon started to rise,
along with its militia of stars.
The darkness marched in order, and quickly overtook
most of the sky
that had once shone blue.
the sun fell farther and farther,
pulled down into the waters,
and the moon called out,
before it dissapeared,
" the world is mine once more.
i can do what i please.
look at how i scare them,
as they run to their homes
and turn on their artificial suns.
they are weaklings,
and will be crushed by my hands.
"
the sun,
losing its struggle to stay afloat,
watched as the last of the blue
was being ravaged by the forces of darkness,
and before it was submersed completely,
it cried out to the moon,
"i will return
to pull the world
from your evil grasp.
whatever you damage,
i can recover.
whatever you try,
i can undo.
there will never be a chance
for you darkness,
until the day that i burn out,
and fade away.
" the moon
upon his throne in the sky laughed harder.
the laughter rocked through the sky as he roared,
"you will come again,
only to be pushed back under.
the day that you will fade is near,
and when it comes
you will be reduced to yet another
of my army,
but a star
in the universe
i call my own.
there can be no future for you:
light can never shine forever!"
and the sun fell under completely,
and the moon reclaimed the entire sky,
and he sat upon his thrown
and watched the people hurrying around the planet,
huddling around their lights,
which where fading fast.


II.
the fountain of youth
takes its water
from the well of life.
and the well of life is fed
by the river of immortality.
people search for the fountain.
they scour countryside,
they climb the highest mountains,
but the rivers they cross,
and the wells they pass by
are those wells of life,
and rivers of immortality.
in their hasty search
for that mysterious fountain
which is to return their youth,
they pollute the wells
and dam the rivers.
and when the waters cannot flow,
then the fountain cannot bubble forth
its magical remedy.
the mystery behind the wonder of that fountain,
is that when the wells of life
and the rivers of immortality
are taken care of,
then the babies and children
of the new generation have the water they need to grow,
and bring new life to the world.
for bringing life to the world,
and nourishing its growth
is the route to the youth
that you have outgrown.
live that youth that you seek
through the childhood
of a child you brought into the world,
or helped stay here.


III.
the rain fell,
and it fell.
days,
weeks,
months passed,
and the rain continued to pour down.
the life that covered the land
was choked by the rising waters.
pieces of civilization
floated upon the saving branches.
the water rose and it rose,
till but the peaks
of the highest mountains
remained above it.
sitting upon the grass,
in the last remaining meadow,
was an aged man,
who sat hunched over,
the victim of his age,
and a bad back.
he looked out onto the waters,
watching the remains
of his world
float by.
all that he had ever known,
all that he had ever seen
had been destroyed
by this flood.
his eyes strained through the light filtering through the heavy clouds.
coming towards his little patch of land
was a boat:
a giant vessel
that bobbed in the giant waves.
as it came closer,
he could smell familiar scents,
that he now realized
he had been missing,
and he heard the sounds
that had once filled his ears.
closer and closer it came.
the sounds and the smells grew stronger.
he started to cringe,
as it started to overwhelm him.
but the boat came closer and closer.
finally the boat
was right off shore.
the sounds were ripping apart his ears,
and the smells were scratching his nose.
standing it no longer,
the man climbed to his feet,
and clutching a stone
in his frail hands,
he threw it at the boat.
the rock hit the hull,
and the side toar open.
screaming animals
fell into the coarse water
as the boat sank.
the old man watched,
as the last piece of the boat
fell under the waterline,
and as the last animal cried for help.
and when the air grew calm,
and the clouds dissapeared,
he sat back down
and smiled,
and looked out
and continued to stare.
the cliffs of our lives 2
Table of Contents 		Words Never Spoken. Copyright © 1991 by Matte Elsbernd. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.