"goaless" poems - Hello Poetry

The *** with match, lit the fire scolding kettle with burnt goaless ambition. claiming snobbish golden prowess paid in wanton , savage, screaming tuition. "It is I" said *** "Who has sent aromas of worlds preperations in lifes gluttonous lust smiling rewards genorously hailed with slothed culanary trust..." "tis true" whispered kettle "It is I, the *** forged in iron clad who in laborious toil so generously cast my sweet savory scraps amongst your soot and soil..." "tis true" hissed kettle, "For I, the *** adapt in multiple arrangement of compliment and comfort where you lack with singular solitary function wailing, seared and scarred in black..." "Tis true" whistled kettle "I, the *** filled in glorious substance and magnificant sustenance praised in lifes delicate, vital, victuals and viands in with which I do enhance..." "Tis true" howled kettle "Yet it is I, Kettle, in further fashion of design than copious function in fare do not heed your song and dance..." "Blah" clammered *** "For it is I, the lowly kettle, sing to each melodious morning to begin the days unknown magical soaring..." "Pishaw" growled *** "It is I, kettle, bestowed in somber, modest truth of fact nakedly express that you too, my dear *** are simply black..." "humbug" steamed *** *** humbled... kettle mumbled... "It is in each honorable day we serve our distinguishable stay in detectable unadorned identicle way. "Tis true" said ***

0

Sep 24, 2012

Sep 24, 2012 at 3:27 AM UTC

appalachian-andrew

*** and Kettle

The *** with match, lit the fire scolding kettle with burnt goaless ambition. claiming snobbish golden prowess paid in wanton , savage, screaming tuition. "It is I" said *** "Who has sent aromas of worlds preperations in lifes gluttonous lust smiling rewards genorously hailed with slothed culanary trust..." "tis true" whispered kettle "It is I, the *** forged in iron clad who in laborious toil so generously cast my sweet savory scraps amongst your soot and soil..." "tis true" hissed kettle, "For I, the *** adapt in multiple arrangement of compliment and comfort where you lack with singular solitary function wailing, seared and scarred in black..." "Tis true" whistled kettle "I, the *** filled in glorious substance and magnificant sustenance praised in lifes delicate, vital, victuals and viands in with which I do enhance..." "Tis true" howled kettle "Yet it is I, Kettle, in further fashion of design than copious function in fare do not heed your song and dance..." "Blah" clammered *** "For it is I, the lowly kettle, sing to each melodious morning to begin the days unknown magical soaring..." "Pishaw" growled *** "It is I, kettle, bestowed in somber, modest truth of fact nakedly express that you too, my dear *** are simply black..." "humbug" steamed *** *** humbled... kettle mumbled... "It is in each honorable day we serve our distinguishable stay in detectable unadorned identicle way. "Tis true" said ***

48

One by one, We trudge In the opposite direction To the place we want to go Work, Work, Work, Press the button, Again, Again, Again Spaced intervals Nine minutes Fifty nine seconds Not a nano less, Not a second more Big Red button Press, Press, Press Until the End Daylight dies One by One We trudge Back the Path we came another sunset Precedes another dawn One by One We trudge again treadmill of drudgery Work, Work, Work Nine fifty seven Nine fifty eight Press Press the Big red button At the Stress Mine One by one Trudging onwards Souless, goaless Encased in vulcanised rubber Protected against radioactive melt down Chemical disintegration Sneezes on this hive of workers Press, Press Press The button Two by Two Thoughts flow Under the dim wattage State controlled home lighting Press, Press Stop Don’t press the button Would it make any difference to the One by one daily trudge Three by Three The terror rises Stop Pressing The spinning top world Would stop.

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Oct 3, 2018

Oct 3, 2018 at 6:45 AM UTC

nick-strong

Press, Press, Press

One by one, We trudge In the opposite direction To the place we want to go Work, Work, Work, Press the button, Again, Again, Again Spaced intervals Nine minutes Fifty nine seconds Not a nano less, Not a second more Big Red button Press, Press, Press Until the End Daylight dies One by One We trudge Back the Path we came another sunset Precedes another dawn One by One We trudge again treadmill of drudgery Work, Work, Work Nine fifty seven Nine fifty eight Press Press the Big red button At the Stress Mine One by one Trudging onwards Souless, goaless Encased in vulcanised rubber Protected against radioactive melt down Chemical disintegration Sneezes on this hive of workers Press, Press Press The button Two by Two Thoughts flow Under the dim wattage State controlled home lighting Press, Press Stop Don’t press the button Would it make any difference to the One by one daily trudge Three by Three The terror rises Stop Pressing The spinning top world Would stop.

54

they criticise her and make her hate the moment her dignity and pride is stolen they break her stance and potent she does succumb the omen they offer her zero condolence they laugh and mock and curse her they call her ************ they call her a **** and other names of such they drain her to danger red they call her witch and theft they make her hate herself she scurve her face and wept she cry herself to sleep at night; hoping that things would change she 'd told herself that things 'd be right; one day my pain and scar would fade and if she would never fly she said " i'd rather die" she strive to reframe her picture her heart and soul is injured she strive to reframe her name so she 'll overcome her shame now the path to succed is open she's out the heat of oven she smiles behind her rolex her foes is rendered goaless her shame has turned to fame and her life is not the same her haters now adore and love her now none of them can stop her their hate and game and hurt is the reason for what she'd turn

0

Jul 25, 2018

Jul 25, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC

Wordsmith

Overcome

they criticise her and make her hate the moment her dignity and pride is stolen they break her stance and potent she does succumb the omen they offer her zero condolence they laugh and mock and curse her they call her ************ they call her a **** and other names of such they drain her to danger red they call her witch and theft they make her hate herself she scurve her face and wept she cry herself to sleep at night; hoping that things would change she 'd told herself that things 'd be right; one day my pain and scar would fade and if she would never fly she said " i'd rather die" she strive to reframe her picture her heart and soul is injured she strive to reframe her name so she 'll overcome her shame now the path to succed is open she's out the heat of oven she smiles behind her rolex her foes is rendered goaless her shame has turned to fame and her life is not the same her haters now adore and love her now none of them can stop her their hate and game and hurt is the reason for what she'd turn

33

clumsy like a newborn deer, eating sugar, drinking beer what you say to bring me down, flys away and turns around have no talents, set no goals, heart speaks freely, mind is cold love me gently, be with me, just be patient, you shall see stars are shining, extra bright, life is going, passing by i am worthless, i am soft, like a tree stump, grown with moss life is perfect for the trees, they express themselves with leaves goaless travel, empty heart, no attachments, from the start flowing river, carries me, wait with patience, you shall see..

0

Mar 9, 2017

Mar 9, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC

ilya-molotov

im worthless

clumsy like a newborn deer, eating sugar, drinking beer what you say to bring me down, flys away and turns around have no talents, set no goals, heart speaks freely, mind is cold love me gently, be with me, just be patient, you shall see stars are shining, extra bright, life is going, passing by i am worthless, i am soft, like a tree stump, grown with moss life is perfect for the trees, they express themselves with leaves goaless travel, empty heart, no attachments, from the start flowing river, carries me, wait with patience, you shall see..

9

Thoughts run Aimless, goaless, chaos incarnate Thoughts run My mind into the wall Thoughts run And run And run Like a pipe burst Like a faucet They just run Aimless, goaless. Chaos incarnate Can I map them? Define them? Bring them to resolution? Present myself the solution? Can I?

0

Nov 7, 2019

Nov 7, 2019 at 8:50 PM UTC

Drus

Run

Thoughts run Aimless, goaless, chaos incarnate Thoughts run My mind into the wall Thoughts run And run And run Like a pipe burst Like a faucet They just run Aimless, goaless. Chaos incarnate Can I map them? Define them? Bring them to resolution? Present myself the solution? Can I?

16