"inevitables" poems
Were there no stalkers or high school shooters in the 50s?
Or are social web sites just more influential than our parents think?
Did texts and tweets raise the *** drives and black out drinking?
Or is the thinning atmosphere contributing to mass judgement impairment?
It's strange
that we have a cure for small pox, can remove cancerous cells
but can't convince some to drive home sober.
It's fitting, in a way,
that Mother Nature has figured out a system to keep the human population relatively in check:
we have the technology to survive diabetes and malaria
but access to delicious saturated fats is slowing down and stopping hearts from properly earning a living.
Progress has ended many terrible ailments and has expanded understanding and brains
but has also given more creative ways to be lazy and irresponsible.
A double edged sword, with most likely more benefits than setbacks,
we have all become hypocrites under advancement.
We learn of the monstrocities in far away places we will never see,
yet still do the very things that contribute to its existence.
Sweatshops?
I'll buy an anti-slavery t-shirt!
(made my children. in sweatshops.)
Pesticides?! I'll go organic!
(and perpetuate pollution with the fuel used to import the goods. and continue terrible working conditions)
It's impossible to resist the inevitables, like death and setbacks and corruption
so sometimes it's best not to fight
but to just do what you want, even if it's stupid or lethal or involves making an *** of yourself.
We're all stupid at sometime and susceptible to faulty thinking,
and sometimes advanced thinking leads to inventions that create crutches for living or coping,
but the fields level out
and global common sense always balances individuals who lack the ability to be actively responsible.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
Vosotras, las familiares,
inevitables golosas,
vosotras, moscas vulgares,
me evocáis todas las cosas.¡Oh, viejas moscas voraces
como abejas en abril,
viejas moscas pertinaces
sobre mi calva infantil!¡Moscas del primer hastío
en el salón familiar,
las claras tardes de estío
en que yo empecé a soñar!Y en la aborrecida escuela,
raudas moscas divertidas,
perseguidas
por amor de lo que vuela,-que todo es volar-, sonoras
rebotando en los cristales
en los días otoñales...
Moscas de todas las horas,de infancia y adolescencia,
de mi juventud dorada;
de esta segunda inocencia,
que da en no creer en nada,de siempre... Moscas vulgares,
que de puro familiares
no tendréis digno cantor:
yo sé que os habéis posadosobre el juguete encantado,
sobre el librote cerrado,
sobre la carta de amor,
sobre los párpados yertos
de los muertos.Inevitables golosas,
que ni labráis como abejas,
ni brilláis cual mariposas;
pequeñitas, revoltosas,
vosotras, amigas viejas,
me evocáis todas las cosas.
1.3k
Written to my girlfriend, after a single rose I had given her managed to stay alive and flower long after it was supposed to die
Our lives differ no less than from a flower
What keeps us apart is it’s destined power
A power that starts its life as a seed
Seeking the light and the love it will need
Ambitiously growing with hopes to one-day find
A reason for living, leaving inevitability behind
For a flower is subjected to a cycle of life
Experiencing the inevitables of love, death and strife.
Some flowers have a will power of their own
To stall their cycle, having death remain unknown
For when that flowers see’s something that it likes
It will hold out for longer, no matter what strikes
Like being brought into love, a flower holds out longer
To see the relationship grow, and get even stronger
Watching two people connect, with no strings attached
Seeing true love unfold, remaining unscratched
Satisfied it holds out, even through the death of it’s flower
Pushing itself to stay alive, even if for an hour
For it has hope for someone, so it must reply
By showing us beauty in something, will never die
Using it’s last bit of strength, to be optimistic
It starts to grow again, as if it were mystic
Leaving two lovers to be astounded by this miracle
They put aside their differences, until they are wrinkled
These flowers of course are brought to us by fate
To show us beauty in our love, before it’s too late
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
con todos amaneceres eventualmente habrá un atardecer;
con todos atardeceres, un amanecer y una sonrisa serán inevitables.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
don't even know
can't
too soon
but maybe....
all is well
or acceptable
it's alright
for now
for later
not so bad
when things fall
together, apart
inevitables taking care of themselves
cells having souls
that's the goal
of all of us who'd like to believe
that cities are simply breathing rocks
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 9:44 PM UTC
i hung a picture on the wall
whose memories kept me in terror
perhaps they should never have happened at all
only then i could have avoided my downfall
i gaze at the picture on the wall
it reflected horror like a shiny mirror
and the inevitables that i constantly recall
in order to hurt my trembling chest after all
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 5:12 PM UTC
The inevitables of life have really been getting to me lately
I didn't know her very well but
She died and... it made me question my entire being
It really really bugs me.
I couldn't even cry and still can't and that bugs me even more
Now I don't even know what I want anymore
and I have this impending doom creeping in my chest
"The world could end tomorrow and I have wasted my life"
kind of doom.
Now I am a third the way through it
And I can't go back
More likely half
The underwater explorer,
a man on the moon,
the world saving scientist,
love...children
And that's it.
Dreams are just that.
until they die or are killed by
someone elses dream
And I'm sitting here watching my closest friends go through it
Every stage from young until old
Realizing that I have been staring into a mirror
my entire life
Locked in a box made of societal issues so thick I can't hear the people screaming at me
"Your life is a lie and so is mine!"
The dread is overwhelming
That IS the wisdom.
One simple problem one simple answer
It all ends the same
No one ever gets young
And we all think there is plenty of time.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 3:42 AM UTC