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When Michael died I was tipped over the edge. I was beyond grief.

quote by Paula Yates
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Over The Edge

I had eyes but I could not see, I hurt everybody who believed in me
I had it all but I lost the key, oh
I saw the world through fogged-up glasses, like some lothario making passes
I showed the world just what an ass is, oh
I was over the edge, I was always out of my head
Trouble in paradise, treadin on the thinnest ice
Oh-oh, over the edge, I wouldnt listen to what anybody said
Cuttin with a razor blade, spendin every cent I made
Over the edge
I dreamed of standin on my own two feet
My fists held high and I clenched my teeth
But Id wake up to the same old me, oh
I was living a lie, but you brought me truth
Afraid to cry, but you taught me to
You stood beside me, now Ill stand by you, oh
I was over the edge, I was always out of my head
I wasnt foolin anyone, playin with a loaded gun
Oh-oh, over the edge, I wouldnt listen to what anybody said
I was numbing all the pain, you taught me how to feel again
(solo)
If I had died, it would have been a shame
Theyd have said he only had himself to blame
You saved my life when you called my name, oh
I was over the edge, I was always out of my head
I was numbing all the pain, you showed me how to feel again
Oh-oh, over the edge, I wouldnt listen to what anybody said
When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize
Oh-oh, over the edge (repeats 4x)

song performed by Reo Speedwagon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Over The Edge

Everybody is a victim of society
Comedy, tragedy, vaudeville and variety
Pantomime players in the grand tradition
Winners and losers till the intermission
Girl, I know the world's a stage
That's what the poet said
But I think our weird relationship
Is way above my head
I'll be your Casanova whipping by
If that's what you desire
But once I start performing
I can't easily retire
I'll swing on a trapeze
I'll jump through hoops
And I'll eat fire
Be a human cannon ball
And walk on the high wire
Put on make-up, wear a wig
I'll be your tragic clown
But once you've got me up there
I can't easily come down
Don't drive me over the edge of it
Can't you see I've got mixed-up emotions
Joined the crowd just to be part of it
That was the start of it
Oh, now I'm over the edge
(Don't drive me over the edge of it)
Oh, over the edge
The world is turning upside-down
Civilization's dead, over the edge
Economic turmoil, now the world is in the red
Democracy's a shadow of its former glory
Law and orders broken-down
End of story
My next door neighbour's totally snapped
He's gone over the edge
He's putting up barbed wire barricades
Around the garden hedge
And planting land mines on the lawn
He's gone barmy
According to his wife, he's formed a secret army
Ever since he got laid off
Something inside snapped
His wife says he's gone 'round the twist
Now there's no turning back
All night he waits in the garden shed
For the enemy to attack
A suburban vigilante
Dressed up in a union jack
He's over the edge, oh, over the edge
Don't drive me over the edge of it
Woman, you are gonna drive me
Totally over the edge
Is it yes or is it no
Are you gonna take the pledge
The pressures of society are getting to your brain
And forced you to act weird
And put me under all this strain
But don't drive me over the edge of it
Stop while I've still got emotions
Joined the crowd, just to be part of it
That was the start of it
Oh, over the edge
Don't drive me over the edge of it
Everybody is a victim of society
Comedy, tragedy
Vaudeville, variety
Pantomime players in the grand tradition
Forced into roles that leave them totally driven
Right over the edge

song performed by Kinks
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Over the Edge

If we believe in one Father,
Why push our siblings down?
If we believe in one God,
Why push our relatives into struggle?
If we believe in one Savior,
Why push sinners into hell?
If we believe in one love,
Why push neighbors into thorns?
If we believe in one spirit,
Why push them over the edge?

***The Book of End of Times

poem by Young Church
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Over The Edge

Its not the truth I say
Its just a mockery
Dont need to waste my time
You know I really try
You take and never give
It gets so hard to live
Im hanging on a ledge, push straight over the edge
Grow up and be a man
Drop dead right where I stand
Im hanging on a ledge, push straight over the edge
Dont do the things you do
Dont have to oblige you
Make choices on my own
Dont buy the sh*t they sell
You take and never give
It gets so hard to live
Im hanging on a ledge, push straight over the edge

song performed by Hole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Over The Edge

She wants to know where I've been
She's got the gloves on again
She thinks she's smooth now I'm saying
I'm not going down (I'm not going down)
You say this ain't the end to me
Fall down, pull the rug under me
Feels like I'm falling but I tell you
I'm not going down
One day, you'll be the end of me
Go blind, pull the wool over me
Feels like I'm falling but I tell you
I'm not going down
Because you push me over the edge
Tired of wasting my time, tired of wasting my breath
Because you push me over the edge
Tired of wasting my time
And you're putting me through this again (through this again)
She wants to fight and I've been drinking
We put the walls up again
I know she's right that I'm tripping
But I'm not going down
Repeat Chorus
Because you
Never did try
Never did look to see that I'm alright (whoaaaaaa)
Because you're
Always right
Gotta fight
Always wanna know (whoaaaaaa)
Because you.....
(x2)
Repeat Chorus

song performed by Zebrahead
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At The Hour When Darkness Wins And Light Surrenders To The Edge Of The Sea

on that hour when darkness and
light fought
i take complete time to watch
them

the usual afternoon when darkness
wins when light surrenders to the edge
of the sea
in dismal silence

it is a very sad view, one can relate and
weep

on the other hand, when light finally gives up
its orange body to the
invasion of the night

when it assumes that fading ball of fire
descending to the abyss of the darkness

behold! there is so much beauty
in its sadness!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Living On The Edge Of The World

Early north jersey industrial skyline
Im an all-set cobra jet creepin through the night time
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a pay phone
This turnpike sure is spooky at night when youre all alone
Im living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get my girl on the line
Livin on the edge of the world
But I think its just a waste of my time
Some jerk keeps breaking my connection, girl
cause Im living on the edge of the world
Living on the edge of the world
Radio, radio, hear my tale of heartbreak
New jersey in the morning like a lunar landscape
Got a counter girl at the exit 24 hojo
Down past the refinery towers where the great black river flows
Im living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get back to you, girl
Living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get a message through
I gotta make a connection, girl
Because Im living on the edge of the world
Living on the edge of the world
Radios jammed with gospel stations
Lost souls callin long distance salvation
Hey mister deejay gotta hear my last prayer
Its a hey ho rock and roll, deliver me from nowhere
Im living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get back to you, girl
Living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get a message through
I gotta make some connection, girl
Because Im living on the edge of the world
Living on the edge of the world
Now my boss dont dig me cause he put me on the night shift
It takes me two hours to get back to where my baby lives
In the wee wee hours my mind gets hazy
Relay towers, wont you lead me to my baby
neath the overpass the trooper hits his party lights switch
Good night, good luck, one, two powershift

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
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When the sun died over the open blue sea

When the sun died over the open blue sea
soft and intimate my hand was in yours,
while you pressed it,
while the water rushed out on the beach
and you are like lovely Eve from long ago,
while it feels as if we only exist for moments,
while there is sunlight, something bright in your eyes,
when time lingers, when we stand in each other's arms
and a seagull calls screeching much further on.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Midsummer, was it, when They died

962

Midsummer, was it, when They died—
A full, and perfect time—
The Summer closed upon itself
In Consummated Bloom—

The Corn, her furthest kernel filled
Before the coming Flail—
When These—leaned unto Perfectness—
Through Haze of Burial—

poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Tombstone Told When She Died

The tombstone told when she died.
Her two surnames stopped me still.
A virgin married at rest.
She married in this pouring place,
That I struck one day by luck,
Before I heard in my mother's side
Or saw in the looking-glass shell
The rain through her cold heart speak
And the sun killed in her face.
More the thick stone cannot tell.
Before she lay on a stranger's bed
With a hand plunged through her hair,
Or that rainy tongue beat back
Through the devilish years and innocent deaths
To the room of a secret child,
Among men later I heard it said
She cried her white-dressed limbs were bare
And her red lips were kissed black,
She wept in her pain and made mouths,
Talked and tore though her eyes smiled.
I who saw in a hurried film
Death and this mad heroine
Meet once on a mortal wall
Heard her speak through the chipped beak
Of the stone bird guarding her:
I died before bedtime came
But my womb was bellowing
And I felt with my bare fall
A blazing red harsh head tear up
And the dear floods of his hair.

poem by Dylan Thomas
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Songs from The Beggar’s Opera: Air XVI-“Over the Hills, and Far Away”

Mac. Were I laid on Greenland’s coast,
And in my arms embraced my lass,
Warm amidst eternal frost,
Too soon the half-year’s night would pass.
Polly. Were I sold on Indian soil,
Soon as the burning day was closed,
I could mock the sultry toil
When on my charmer’s breast reposed.
Mac. And I would love you all the day,
Polly. Every night would kiss and play,
Mac. If with me you’d fondly stray
Polly. Over the hills, and far away.

poem by John Gay
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I heard a fly buzz when I died;

I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.

The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.

I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,--and then
There interposed a fly,

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see.

poem by Emily Dickinson
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Dying (I heard a fly buzz when I died)

I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.
I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable, -- and then
There interposed a fly,

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see.

poem by Emily Dickinson
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When Tornados Take Over The World

When tornados take over the world
Therell be no time for fretting
No fussing and complaining anymore
When tornados take over the world
You wont have your folks
To blame for all the stuff thats your fault
Your friends will be swirling
Right above your disembodied head
When tornados take over the world
All the things in the fridge
That fell on the floor will disappear
And all of your neighbors
Will be waving their flashlights at your house
Your friends will be swirling
Right above your disembodied head
When tornados take over the world

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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When Tornadoes Take Over The World

When tornadoes take over the world
There'll be no time for fretting
No fussing or complaining anymore
When tornadoes take over the world
You won't have your folks
To blame for all the stuff that's your fault
Your freinds will be swirling
Right above your disembodied head
When tornadoes take over the world
All the things in the fridge
That fell on the floor
Will dissapear
And all of your neighbors
Will be waving their flashlights at your house
Your friends will be swirling
Right above your disembodied head
When tornadoes take over the world.

song performed by They Might Be Giants
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When I Died

The day they won,
i picked up a gun
3 bullets to the head
Pride,
strength,
courage
then i was dead

When i died,
irealized
i was the one who pulled the trigger,
and the digger,
of my own grave

3 bullets
1-pride; denying pain i hide
2-the strength; to defend what i feel inside
3-the courage to have pride

so away i went...
into the light
inspite that i might,
seek answers
get my questions answered
with out sticker shock
or again getting shot
but im already dead so who cares?

who cares,
that i still have nightmares
cuz i'm dead,
and i the one who behead
myself

when i died i took 3 bullets to the head
pride,
strength,
courage,
and still lying here, DEAD

poem by Brittney Phillips
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Over the Top with Dramatics

Every piece of clothing I wore,
At one time...
Bore my own tear stains.

Over the top with dramatics?
I wish this fact,
'Was' an exaggeration with theatrics.

Back to back agonies,
Had seemed the only air...
I came to learn to breathe.

I would cling onto my woes,
As if they were new born babies.
Protectively I held them close.

And then one day,
An adjustment was made!
I forgave myself for tossing away my faith.

Every piece of clothing I wore,
At one time...
Bore my own tear stains.

Spinning I was...
In a dysfunctional whirpool of guilt.
And a remorse felt from displaced anger.

And when I discovered I was being tested.
To prove a love I within confessed,
God released me from that mess I kept!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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She was in the profession

She stopped her work at her lawn when she saw me
and leaned over the fence and we talked for over two hours
with my elbow on her posts and my feet resting
against the palings.

She had worked forty years in the same profession
and had seen generations through the doors. She
had enjoyed her work and people still call her to
tell her about themselves; they express their gratitude
and how much of a difference she had made.

She walked down the fence, waved her arms
and returned to the corner where I stood.

But what was work for?
she asked.
Forty years doing what was good for others
but nothing that was good for myself.
What was work for? she sighed.
What were forty years for? It destroyed me.

(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))

poem by Raj Arumugam
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All The Jobs I've Had Over The Years

I was always into sport
when I was at school
or doing impressions
and acting the fool.
Left at fifteen
unsure what to do
and as for a job
I hadn't a clue.
My Dad was a builder
so worked on site
grafted during the day
stayed out late at night.
When I got older
employed on the railway
laying down tracks
worked hard for my pay.
But got restless again
and ended up in a factory
but I hated every minute
it just wasn't for me.
So over the years
I've really moved around
cleaned windows for a living
been a gardener digging the ground.
Tried my hand at teaching
even went to university
dropped out halfway through
went back to the building industry.
Some people only ever have one job
but one's never been enough for me
what would be my ideal job now?
getting paid for writing poetry!

poem by Kevin Halls
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Blockhouses had been erected right over the country

Blockhouses had been erected right over the country,
farms had been entered and burnt to the ground,
Livestock and animals had been slaughtered
and women and children were rounded up
and interned into death camps.

Young boys
were set against white walls
and firing squads
was set against them

and a super power
clenched its fist around this country
and stood gigantic
against every Boer farmer.

l’Envoi
That time will be forever black
in history
with the misdeeds of the British
that is well known
and the ruination of a nation, arousing from it
where women and children perished as targets
at the commands of Horatio Herbert Kitchener.

[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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