"goalless" poems
Have you heard about this brute beast that lives in these parts
Restless, he roams, goalless yet he thwarts
A lot of people have encountered some never lived to see the day
Where the monster decide to move past and mind be swayed
However that monster was not feared because of its relentless attacks
Neither it was because of his horrifying expression when he appears
But because of its presence, everyone is taken aback
And with the arrival of such a beast, one's guile might disappear
Face it or fear for your stability
For he is the leviathan that never attacks, he never uses force
However, he just stands there and mocks, yet your actions become coarse
Be brave, young warrior, face the foe at hand
Before you crumble your foundation that suddenly became sand
Face the creature and you will see, your might renewed and goals are clear
Those who do not become a prisoner of life, the ones who cower in fear
Yet, here why do one hesitate, you ask?
Because in the end, we are all being attacked at once
And your actions are watched by your loved ones.
Then you realize, it's not the monster that confronted you that you should be afraid
It's the monster that lives inside every person's mind that you should keep in check.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC
477
No Man can compass a Despair—
As round a Goalless Road
No faster than a Mile at once
The Traveller proceed—
Unconscious of the Width—
Unconscious that the Sun
Be setting on His progress—
So accurate the One
At estimating Pain—
Whose own—has just begun—
His ignorance—the Angel
That pilot Him along—
2.3k
digits digging divots, gyrating
in the finite field I have left on which to play,
bringing me closer to a goalless line
mornings I ran the ball,
feeling the turf beneath me, green and flat
in the afternoon I passed, hoping another would move onward
by eventide I oft punted, conceding my opponent
should be given his run, only to crash into me,
to be shoved into the demanding dirt,
a victim of my will, gravity,
and chiseling chance
when the ball returned
to me, as it eternally did,
I called another play, everyman scrambling
for a chance, at more measured madness, more
yardage marked by mocking minutes, that became
miles, hours, days, and more massive, metastatic
months, unstoppable, no matter who had the ball,
or how far their running feet
would take them
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
Life is a long journey,
Over in the blink of an eye,
Full of challenges to overcome,
With the prize of ultimate freedom at the end.
It's the longest journey you'll have,
And it won't always be pleasant.
You'll laugh, you'll cry,
You'll love, you'll die.
Some people try and live fast,
Some try and live slow,
Come and watch the show,
As people race to the end.
Some people think that their journey is pointless,
Goalless,
But they're blind,
Doomed to see black and white.
The others see life for what it is,
Enlightened by the challenges they've overcome,
And see the beauty that lies within this ugly world.
For them the journey is fruitful.
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 5:16 AM UTC
Empty words fill
Empty spaces,
Wasting our time and
Using our efforts to
Impress an empty audience.
The words are normal,
Effortless,
Sleepy.
Tedious and tensionless
They sweep the imaginary landscape:
Wasteland.
They speak with easy access to
Shallow hearts.
Slight stabs hold no pain--
The blade is too dull.
This bore sickens me;
These words hold no pull.
Goalless structure has
No gold.
Wasted breath on nothing.
Now change:
We are the words that make life worth it...
...Poets.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC
They say the path to liberation
Leads through valleys of utter despair
And over peaks of glorious wonder.
If you risk the journey, beware.
Our thoughts don't always reflect reality;
To us an idea that clearly seems
So real and permanent is really ephemeral
And creatively sculpted from notions and dreams.
Our thoughts can tantalize or torment us,
Depending on our state of mind
Or how attached we are to ideas
And concepts that we've proudly enshrined.
That which lasts--that which endures--
Remains utterly beyond our ken.
If we are lucky, flashes of awareness
Illuminate us now and then.
Are our questions superficial,
Or do they sink beneath our skin
To penetrate our bones and marrow
And deeply resonate therein?
Gratitude flows from every pore
As we glide along on a goalless goal.
An inner calm pervades our being
When we release the illusion of control.
We catch a glimpse of truly knowing.
Clouds of doubt that blocked the light
Shift, and we are bathed in the radiance
Of something inconceivably bright.
Part of us dies, but something's reborn.
We see through illusions, passions, and lies.
Divested of our strong attachments,
We see the world through different eyes.
The path we've sought is under our feet;
There's nothing mysterious--nothing arcane.
We lose our selves and find ourselves,
And we find that there's nothing we need to attain.
- by Bob B
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 8:41 AM UTC
They criticize 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 scurf 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 succeed is open
She's out the heat of oven
She smiles behind her rolex
Her foes is rendered goalless
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
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 5:27 AM UTC
I decided to lèad my leàd to goalless gold
Now I refuse to cònduct by others condùct
Before I bowed until I was bowed
Now I arm my many axes with blazing axes
With this my search for còntent could reach contènt
When I come too dangerously close they close themselves off
Though some I meet with conflicting conflict
We contèst lightheartedly but end in revealing còntest
We both crooked to find the crooked
To deliberate if know weakness was to be deliberately revealed
And desèrt the loser to mental dèsert
The challenge over in a minùte mìnute
I mòderàte the other to the mòderate
This would be the 2nd I nùmber to make me nùmbèr to other's illusions
I still can't objèct to the òbject of my desires
Eventually I will prodùce my pròduce for all to see
If I don't excuse myself for my excuses this is surely possible
My recreàtion an attempt at the rècreation of awareness
I will wind with the wind until I reach my goal
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 5:48 PM UTC
I have been on this quest for years and years
trying to just perfect myself
make a glass obelisk trophy
i might put on my shelf an oddysey
to dream things
such as that
a goalless
win
in view of our society
the way our wins now
are weighed and viewed
in how many people
you have walked over
stepped on
on your way to the top
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 3:54 AM UTC