#futile
sometimes
i promise, it is only sometimes
i would like to be in pain
and not the kind
where it's tearing at your skin
or the steady thrum of a headache
no, i need it to be loud
and sharp
as if there were jagged edges
worming their way into me
through me
burrowing into my lungs
so i hesitate to take a breath
even though it is essential
for my survival
a pain so desperate, so consuming
that i contemplate
giving in
no, i should call it what it is
giving up
i want it to leave hollow graves
shallow graves
in my bones
where the blood will pool
mixing in with whatever
anguish and despair
i have collected
i have lived with
stored within me
because i never knew
where else to keep it
i could never find another
empty house
and my pages were leaking ink
and so giving in to that pain
those jagged edges
is the only possible release
i can think of
the only justification
for abandoning the acceptance
of the absurd
the only way i will feel
past the futility of
sunken days and soulless eyes
Aug 10, 2025
Aug 10, 2025 at 6:28 PM UTC
It's broken, scattered in pieces, in shreds.
What was immoveable, now is crumbled.
It morphed from spool into puny threads
And got so futile and so unrequired.
All is gone, both faith, and repentance.
And what is now, no meaning, no goal.
No one needs excuses or blaming.
Neither of those who needed are gone.
All is trampled down, mixed up.
All is stupidly wasted in whole.
And only one mediocre Zero
Is stayed with no shame at all.
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 4:07 PM UTC
it's a dark corridor ending in an angry mouth
we must all pass through
passengers of linear crime
feeling an exhausting hollow pull
Feb 5, 2025
Feb 5, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC
This psychosis is flaring up again, most notably with the upper hand
Time after time and once again I find no rhyme or reason
That thought process, seemingly by design, is unfathomably barren
Scared of the transformation I know has already left the station
That's it there, right over yonder, comin' 'round the bend
Resistance is futile, it's a lesson in repetition to keep runnin' with no traction
No huntin' license needed for this "only fools rush in" expedition
The lethal weapon method preferred over the non-lethal stun gun option
As I set up and execute my own personal character assassination
And blame it on what's always been a continuous open season on who I am as a person
Stating it was the residents in my cranium livin' rent free from conception
Leaving out the moment I stepped in and fast forwarded this Scooby Doo-Benny Hill situation to the end
You can still see the evidence of the all out mutiny and treason from within
Venomous hospitality, venomous quips, blue lips the reaction to the poison
The exact one found on the jagged edge of the rusty iron driven into broken skin
Just an oh to familiar back stabbing incident, another rerun
A web can be spun but I'm the only common thread...
©2024
Jan 21, 2024
Jan 21, 2024 at 1:29 PM UTC
Shades of yellow cast on our dreams
Skin burning through layers of sunscreen
When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings
Let great powers grow evermore carefree
To satisfy eternity.
Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth
Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool
Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify
Oh for we all must die!
Young and old both playing their games
Seduced by the baits of short-term gains
Unable to afford the bail out of prison
Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction
To satisfy eternity.
Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools
Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe
They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile
Oh for we all shall die!
Whether in shame or in desire
Must we forget all we’ve acquired
For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory
Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy
To satisfy eternity.
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 8:33 PM UTC
All Putin’s Fault
The man cries
No more wife
No more child
No more family
No more home
No more Ukraine
No more happiness
Huge bomb craters
All Putin’s fault
Mar 20, 2022
Mar 20, 2022 at 5:51 PM UTC
Long ago, I closed my eyes with the warm sun on my face
And I dreamed of finding more of myself beyond this place
So I set out on a journey that would take most of my life
I searched every path but fumbled back when met with strife
Each turn and new horizon just a mirage of hope that faded
The day brought less resolve; the nights despair invaded
My foolishness deluded me and priceless years it stole
Until I was left with nothing in a wasteland of my soul
Who am I beyond these mazes? I thought I could be more.
Now standing here, I see tracks of the lives that went before.
We are all the same; life ends with a breath just as it starts
So I closed my eyes and understood... I am no more beyond my heart
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 5:00 PM UTC
Bukowski had it
the writing shoots from my soul
I don't care about babies or puppies
or rhyming anymore
Give me a fat cigar
and a deep whiskey
and I can write you a sonnet
of ******** and
write you a love poem
I do not mean
I smoke
I drink
I type what comes out
and I'm tired of hearing about tulips and butterflies
If you think you've got it all figured out
but you're working a job you hate
then the only thing you've figured out
is that you don't know what to do
You don't know that life is about living
that money is necessary, but awful
and that truly living is actually about living
Do you thing the trees give half a ****
do you think that the flowing rivers care about internet speed?
do you think that your facebook friends would show up at your funeral
If only the world would shut down
if the digital, virtual world would stop
I'd grab a number 2 pencil and write
and jab a hole in the brain of modern society
and it would bleed money
it would bleed greed
it would bleed capitalism and success
and it would die
instead of my worn out soul
trying to swim in a sea of useless information
and overload
a sea of virtual *****
and then I would truly live
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 11:29 PM UTC
I dress up and smile
and treat you like I love you
You eat it up
and feel worth
but if I met you in the street
I would could ignore you
It's only because you meet me at my job
my 9-5
that I have to act like you are worth everything
When I come to your 9-5
you have to do the same
As though we are not men and women
we play this sacred game.
If I saw you in the street
I would ignore you
But when you come to my 9-5
I must adore you
Or risk getting my pay
so I can eat and live and be
This dance of men and women
this capitalistic ritual
that makes the world turn
and kills the inner being
of those who dance
for each other
It is a lie
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 11:12 PM UTC
Today's words are totally mindless but not factless.
Yes indeed...
indications are that the bananas are gone
the rowdy humanoids were responsible
where did the herd come from
is immunity now futile...?
yes, we have no bananas, we have no bananas today
Brian Hill - 2020 # 163
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 9:28 AM UTC
Don't ask me how I've been
That's no longer your privilege
Don't try to care now when you couldn't care then
Don't start pulling at my heart unless you're ready to commit
It's too soon to be friends
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 8:57 AM UTC
For the last four months, the gears usually churning in my head have halted to an eerie stop. I can't recall anything passed and I can't think of anything new. Dust accumulated on gears big and small making them appear certainly abandoned. It was joined by cobwebs and the spiders who willed them into existence. If I concentrate hard enough I'm sure I will feel them crawling around looking for any sign of life or sustenance. Perhaps these poor creatures are out of luck. I think next, the rust will start to form, and then I will really be in trouble. It will corrode every last piece of metal and take no regard for the way it destroys me. Slowly, the gears will turn orange, and then brown, and then they will cease to exist at all. And that is when I will truly be a lost cause. I guess in a way I'm only getting what I’ve always wanted: for the gears to take a break, to stop churning so mercilessly all the time, to stop working countless possibilities over and over and over again. The most futile effort I’ve ever known. When the gears fall, I think I will be normal. Finally, in correspondence with the people I see around me, I will be just the same. Feigning happiness will not be required, because maybe I will just feel it.
Oct 25, 2019
Oct 25, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
What you're discovering now
I've lived that years ago.
Things you thought were impossible
I've seen it a long time coming.
All that was, called crazy,
Now everything's plain stupidity!
Surrounded by futile mind,
Have I become one of them?
Or am I still crazy?
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
Am I gullible or not?
Why listen to you, or what?
Your opinion does not rate!
Totally futile, great!
What would an Einstein say?
Why listen to BS anyway?
You don't have to like me,
I don't have to believe thee,
Not everyone likes everyone else,
I get to please myself!
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 3:58 PM UTC
You are too young,
To let the world break you.
Too handsome,
For a heartbreak too.
Just wear the smile,
**** the rest for a while.
Mr dark eyes,
It will be futile,
Wasting your life dealing with lies.
Listen to your heart,
It won't hurt.
Spring lies in your heart,
Still life might hurt.
.
Just weave your life,
Fall or ride,
Hansraj ki ** aap pride.
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
I fell in love and lost my heart
and that was why it tore apart.
The love given wasn't returned
by the one for whom it had yearned.
It all seemed so sad at the time
I often thought it was a crime.
But then I could be so naive
early in life's path to believe.
Nature's hand had dealt me a blow
and recovery was very slow.
Everyone I asked was futile
in answering to make me smile.
I sought for love in wrong places
and all I got was strange faces;
looking back at me with contempt
'cause in their heart love was exempt.
Rejection is a dreadful thing
and everyone has felt its sting.
A love you may feel for someone
is best experienced as fun.
Never force love on another
even if they're a real brother
You'll just draw them further away
and who knows what else is at play.
_________________
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 8:44 PM UTC
my torment is one of clouds and flowers
freckles upon sun-kissed oranges
like roses through honey
& vivid eyes like the abstraction of Renaissance pieces
oh butterfly how you make my heart melt
chocolate brownie wonders with giggles on top
your effervescence brighter than a summer's day
entrapping my purity within your oppressive interior
our silences are filled with images of my creation
a cornucopia of passion for even the loneliest of wordsmiths
I leap into our pool of nostalgia for old time's sake
only to find your words transform into serpents.
whirlwinds of emotion now whispered into the ears of another
burning adorations into scarred remains
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 8:23 PM UTC
Seven billion poets and rising. Fourteen billion ears and no one can hear.
If my words go unread and my voice goes unheard, did I ever exist.
I don't know if a bear did but I did when I was camping.
If we call the start a big bang when it goes will it be the little whimper or the even bigger bang?
Is it true that ****** shoes are nailed on?
I used to be on hormone therapy.... but she put up her prices.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 8:50 AM UTC
Suffocating loneliness
Drowning—deep seas of nothingness
Clenching fists
Squint through an emotional mist
Everyone will wallow
But what follows such sorrow?
A repeated pattern
As the rings circle Saturn
So too—your mind attempts to fathom
Around and ‘round(?) them.
Trip, chase, flip, brace
Circle back
Nothing lies ahead
But dread and your tear tattered torn face
Push aside pleasures
Once valid safety measures
Empty—to be forgotten forever?
Unfortunately never
Reach out—take a chance.
I…
Miss what once was, us two
Left stains of sadness, residue
Let words become lost, misconstrue
Feel excellently engraved, worn tattoo
Am at the end of your line, long queue
Was stupid, so Boo outgrew
Did all that I could, untrue
’m stuck—skin tugged, like glue
But all that choked through was—
I miss you
Seen—and scene
The cycle begins anew…
Ten hours and forty-two–
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 10:48 PM UTC
See your life as being futile
And then death is no longer vile
No one knows what's to come
Might as well have some fun
And live life as if there's revival
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 1:37 PM UTC