"inevitably" poems
I imagine myself with you, M.
I can see myself, happy with you.
I can picture us on our first date,
laughing so hard we hold onto each other for support.
I can picture us walking together,
admiring all the local shops and galleries our town has to offer.
I can picture us holding hands,
and you holding me as we gaze out at sea.
I can picture us snorkeling together,
and how you'll laugh when I inevitably breathe in the ocean.
I can picture us kissing for the first time,
how our eyes will meet,
and how our hearts will explode with excitement.
I can picture us kissing,
and how our bodies will melt into one.
I can picture myself falling asleep next to you,
and how peaceful I will feel when I wake up beside you.
Most importantly,
I can picture myself falling in love with you.
How wonderful life will be with you to share it with.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
Silently I cry hoping no one hears
Secretly caring for another in love's affairs
Experiencing love's worst of weapons
Heartbreak ominously beckons
Silently tears fall as I lie alone
On the bathroom floor unbeknown
For there are no more words, no more lies
Only a silent tear that never dries
Silently I cry with images of his face
Dimpled cheeks, his kiss and warm embrace
Hopelessness ensues for the way he held me tight
Remembering he's with her tonight
I lay in bed at night beside the one I'm bound
Holding my breath as tears compound
Feeling the love I once gave and then knew
All the while he's with someone new
Silently shedding tears as my life takes its toll
Killing my very essence, my mind, body and soul
Hearing the words, feeling the crippling pain
A lover's secret inevitably ends in vain
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Wonder if when constellations do align
And universe would finally see.
Would it be presumptious of me
To claim that then, finally you'd be mine.
Wonder if my sense would triumph over
So that my heart would be muted.
With all its contents looted...
Would I only seem sillier?
Wonder if I walked away
In due course.
You'd then take my hand in yours
So that a minute longer I'd stay...
Wonder if you'd understand
When if these feet
Should choose to retreat...
That they had to... It wasn't planned.
Wonder if it'd make a difference
If I said that I had to...
Not for me but more for you.
Would we still be able to love in silence?
Wonder if you'd wish that you made it all clear.
Before the gravity of reality would crush us,
Before the vastness of uncertainty swallows us,
Before my presence would diminish and inevitably disappear.
Wonder if you find my pessimism exhausting.
The volatile nature of my moods...
Especially when I dive deep in solitude
And resurface with a trove of words that are no less than exasperating.
Wonder if you loved me enough
In a day...
To stop me from walking away...
Or loved me too much to plainly say
That...
Future's days would see us apart...
Future's moon would glow but not for us...
Future's stars would sing but not of us...
Future's sun would dry out the passion in our hearts.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC
Standing on a secluded cliff,
Turning my eyes to the sea.
I try to net with the smallest sniff
What freedom and oblivion may be.
The waves crashing onto the rocky shore,
Each one inevitably fading away;
no longer being part of the bore,
but instead washing over the bay.
I wonder how it feels giving up to the stream;
My lungs filled with endless devotion.
For I realize the waves crashing to be redeemed
Don´t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
like water
I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim
like reinforced steel
I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul
like the sun
I filled myself with light to cover her darkness
like a blanket
I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers
like magnets
I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided
like a seed
I felt myself growing up from her
Then, like an idiot
I could tell she felt nothing.
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 1:47 PM UTC
I see an ugly side of me that no one else can see,
And I wonder what would they do if they see this part of me,
This ugly, hideous, part of me,
Longing to be fixed, controlled, repaired.
Each time I try to change for the better,
Inevitably, I keep on succumbing myself to it, ****** in it,
Tormenting myself, and regretting what I've done, eventually,
Without fail, again and again,
Repeating the act.
Who am I lying to?
Not the world, but myself,
And who do I put the blame onto?
Not the world, but myself,
It's binding me tightly,
I can't get free,
Will never ever be.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
1
My mother would say:
“Little boy Raj…
Go to Muthu’s
and get some
cinnamon, betel leaves
and ginger and garlic”
And so I go to the shops
singing all the way
and when Muthu asks me
what I’d want
I rattle off a list:
“Sesame seeds, onions
tomatoes and pickles”
And back home,
Mother twists my ears
Ouch!
2
And inevitably I grew up
and inevitably I got married
and inevitably my wife says to me:
“Dear husband whom
I married in a fire-ceremony;
could you kindly go to Woolies
and get me some
flour, castor sugar,
pepper, pasta sauce and pancakes…”
And so I drive to Woolies
singing all the way;
and walking down the aisles
I throw the following
into the trolley:
cinnamon, betel leaves
and ginger and garlic…
And back home
though my wife does not twist my ears
I feel Mother reach forward
from the other world
and she twists my ears
Ouch!
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 4:03 AM UTC
We are so close, but not just by physical touch;
I can feel you the way I feel my cheeks warm up,
after you have said something
that inevitably causes me to blush.
Its as though our souls are connecting
on the same frequency
radiating off the core of this Earth.
This pleasure is unnoticed by most,
but we can feel it
like we feel the blood dripping down our thighs
on a substandard night.
Before we started talking, so many years ago,
I never believed in true love
or really love at all.
I always assumed it was just all in the head,
and two people could only connect to a point,
unless you were related to each other.
After the first year and a half or so of talking to you regularly,
you proved me wrong.
You proved what I grew up believing
for 16 to 17 years was completely false.
For if I had never met you,
to this day, I more than likely would of continued preaching
to myself, that everyone else
who has experienced this feeling called
'love' was insane.
Life without you would of still been bearable,
but only because I would still be lost in ignorance.
I am more than grateful you walked out of your way
to meet up with me that night three summers ago.
I owe you so much, and will cherish every moment
I'm blessed with standing by your side.
I'll make it a point to provide a nurturing life for you,
one worth living for.
You are my world, my inspiration,
the main reason I look forward to waking up,
or falling asleep cuddled in your lovely arms.
I cannot wait to see you later today and hug you,
while my heart races with satisfaction
like the first time you put your arm around me.
This is more than just some fairy-tale,
this is still the beginning steps of our long journey together.
So we mustn't give up when things go south,
for if we do,
it will be the undoing
of what our relationship has always been about.
You truly are my best friend,
the one person who'll never let me fall
if you know you are capable of preventing it,
even if i don't want your help at all. I appreciate that,
even when my words or actions do not acknowledge it.
You truly are the only reason i was able to climb out of that dark lonely tunnel of agonizing depression;
for everyone else either dragged me father down or walked out.
You are my life saver, my sweet guardian angel.
I love you, my dearest, Chris, forever and always.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
Your fingernails give away the debris you've collected
I've known you for a while but it feels like longer
feels like sunsets under my tongue
blue bruises behind my eyes
every skip of the needle brings back our old skins &
the hush-hush type of self worth,
keeping pens full of red ink so we can
play the demon in this one instead
of closing the door, we don't wanna gossip
at the edge of the room like strangers,
we wanna be in the center
and your fingerprints look a lot like mine sometimes, especially when we laugh and cry together
especially when you fall asleep and I watch
for soft signs of openmouthed breathing that signal
we are in deeper than we thought.
I can't stand the way you look at yourself though, sometimes I wanna
run away from everyone here
sometimes I wanna just up and leave it all
in a shallow grave where it belongs,
but the moments are softer when you slip my name onto your cotton tongue,
and I don't punch out a pattern for my self loathing quite as quickly when
we tally up our thread counts and what time we have left
together.
Inevitably, I still paint my teeth black,
because words about my future never felt right coming from my pink and purple mouth
but your lips could twist anything up into a lot of sense,
I could kiss you and **** time forever
in parking lots and on the edges of stained mattresses
I didn't ever want a home until I thought of hanging up your colors to dry
keep them here in the niches or
scrawled onto notepads I keep beside my bed,
put down your demon scripts and ask me in the morning
if it takes a while for seeds to grow,
I'll tell you to keep a can of water nearby
and to make sure it's somewhere sunny
I know there's something foreign growing in me and it's
bigger than I've ever been,
but I think maybe you know and
it's bigger than both of us, maybe
you know and
you've been doing some growing, too.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
im not trying to cause a riot
but no more nice girl being quiet
im telling my story this time
and its not my fault you commited the crime
i've been hiding in the dark
healing on my own
but im not that same girl anymore
im not going to pick up my phone
it wasn't "one little mistake"
no, you knew i was barely awake
you took away my choice
but you didn't take away my voice
i'm ready to use it now
to speak up for the truth despite
the backlash i know i will inevitably face
when i look you in the eyes tonight
you told me what happened
while your hand was on my thigh
"its embarrassing you got that drunk"
even my friends turned a blind eye
it took me years to process
a simple caress would cause distress
but now i can say
nothing makes it okay
and nothing gave you the right
when i was passed out
6 years ago, midnight
Dec 17, 2022
Dec 17, 2022 at 10:00 PM UTC
You shed light onto my darkness,
the only shimmering light, illuminating from a fish tank..
A face lit up in washed-out waters
with his notebook-empty-blues I'd like to thank
Persuasive and endearing,
a warm heart is heating mine.
I can feel the beat illuminating from a fish tank,
kept cold but inevitably shines.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:04 AM UTC
On the nights I accidentally sleep through the evening and wake when the sun’s long
gone,
I can’t help but think about how it feels like falling for you.
I say
this because it always shocks me, leaves me trying to figure out what’s going on.
It
gives me a loss of gravity, as though I’ve lost contact with the world for a while.
With
my being used to being alone, hearing your voice through my speakers brings
a
smile to my face. I can’t place the exact feelings. I have trouble wording it.
Shy
was never a word to describe me. But you’ve somehow shut me up, your
grin
alone catches my full attention. Whenever I talk to you, I feel grounded.
I
feel like gravity returns. That’s just it, I’m gravitated to you. Somehow, it’s
almost
like you’re the Earth itself. Perhaps I’m your stars, hoping you’ll make a
wish
on me. Take a chance on me. Perhaps, I’m even your moon. Maybe
you
look up at me when I’m hardly even here, a sliver. I do that a lot. I hate that I can’t be
saved
from rising and falling every night, because I worry you get tired of the cycle.
Me
and you together feels like a storm rolling in. The calm is long gone, the winds coming
from
the east coast, rolling through Wisconsin like a force only you could bring. By
myself,
I’d be intimidated. But knowing it’s you bearing the force brings no surprise. If
only
you knew your worth. I understand your fears, seeing as if I am the moon, and
you
are the Earth, I will inevitably leave your side for at least a while. But know I will
never
leave you. I revolve around you, and although I am not your sun, know that
even
when I’m gone, I am yours. Know that no matter what happens, I
tried
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
i am fearful
of you,
who decided
you wanted to know me
and i am fearful
of me,
who is willing to hurt you,
so i can hurt myself.
i am afraid
when you stay,
because i know
you will leave soon.
and i am afraid
when you leave,
because i really wanted you
to stay
(my favorite dreams
are when you walk away from me,
because i know you will be happier
without me.
and my worst nightmares
are when you stay,
because i know
it’s only a matter of time.)
keep your distance
because i am scared of you
who will inevitably
hurt me
in the end
i do not deserve the you
who will build me up.
i only deserve myself,
who will continue to break me down.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 1:45 PM UTC
where it starts
1. your girlfriend will have a miscarriage
for the second time
and you, you'll start using needles
THERE WILL BE NO DIRECT CORRELATION BETWEEN THESE TWO THINGS
but you tell yourself
a daughter is what would make life worth living
and subsequently what it takes to get you sober
2. you lose your job
because you're always in the bathroom missing veins
loss of job will inevitably spiral into an
"intolerable depression"
or
"extended sadness"
or
"whatever version of this is easiest to swallow"
3. you get to spend every holiday from your birthday until The Day She Dies sitting next to your mother's hospital bed
(except for when you're always in the bathroom, missing veiins)
LATER
your sister reassures you that mom didn't know the way you also choked back guilt with all the bile and unpleasant things in your trips to the restroom
but for now you will hate yourself
hate the sticky needles
and hate the way your girlfriend leaves all her ghosts behind when she leaves you
4. you find that bathroom floors are your new home
splayed out after your 8th overdose
jail cells are just a normal tuesday
and you keep waking up to razor blades left neatly on your pillow
where it ends
5. giving up ****** is like pulling teeth
messy and painful but typically necessary
and so hard to do alone
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
I will love you so fiercely
that the sun's love shall never again feel the same
nor hold you hypnotized in its beauty.
I will drill my way
down
to your heart
though it may be a tedious task.
I will peel you
layer by layer by layer
until all that is left of you
are your organs and your soul.
But;
Once I too am inevitably consumed
eroded
by the tide of this ordinary life.
If I have not ******
the life
out of you
in an attempt to show you how strong my love is,
And if you happen to outrun this love of mine:
Play hopscotch
on my tombstone
and pour tea parties in the graveyard
in my memory.
I promise to attend.
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
I would rather be hysterical than vulnerable
to what most people call love.
I would rather couple with strange women
on an Amsterdam getaway
than let one more man
try to own me.
I prefer to ignore my own psychodynamics
in favor of endless talking cure analysis
and occasional astrology cult ******
that promise to speed my eventual evolution
from wounded *** object to invulnverable starchild.
I don’t need a Beverly Hills shrink
to tell me my narcissism and depression and squeaky voice
are symbolic of never having the power
to set a boundary between me and my father
who doted over my puberty
with slobbering praise and veiled lust.
Everyone who knows me for more than a week
sees my father throwing me financial bones
instead of apologizing for what he did
and the more I take his money
the freer I feel
distanced by automobiles with dark-tinted windows,
a house with a skull and crossbones doormat,
a silver .45 under my pillow
and not one single ex-boyfriend
about whom I will ever say a kind word.
I have created emotional and psychological invulnerability;
all men are now my father
and all men pay the price
of never being loved by me
and I pay the price of never being able to let them love me.
Now I just play with partners
and when they inevitably start to use the “L” word
I start to run inside
and I bounce off the walls and mirrors
of my own emptiness
and I go on a photo safari to Africa
where I pretend to understand the meaning of life
and I put out restraining orders
against the men who insist that I explain
and I have come to rely on legal and monetary fences
to protect me from
the truth about my deep loneliness.
I’ve never had an ******
never said I love you twice to the same person
and I think
as long as the money’s there
I won’t have to.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
I have problems.
I can't sleep at night and,
no one's really ever here for me.
Or at least it feels that way.
I mean, isn't that right? In the end it's just you.
Doesn't matter how many friends you tend to cling to,
Because the waves of reality are always shifting,
No matter what the tendency.
My parents ignore me,
and my friends avoid me,
Am I really the only one who feels this way?
It's as if I have to strain to sleep now a days.
Because so many problems stray in my mind,
I wish I could somehow change the time.
But that's not my choice,
I've been placed here inevitably,
The space I have to breathe intoxicates me.
I'm so sick of being here most days.
I dream rather often about running away.
My parents must be blind,
to not realise how stressful the way that act toward me can be.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Call yourself a friend of mine,
Forcing me to “neck” beer and wine?
Lovingly mixed with ***** and gin,
And dash of ketchup added in,
Wasabi for that extra kick -
The whole thing just makes me sick!
It’s not fun or cool or clever,
But a study in peer pressure,
Present in the world we live in,
Where for a guy or girl to “give in”,
Is expected for their reputation.
But what kind of expectation,
Is encouraged sado-masochism?
A concept likely to cause a schism,
For those who didn’t use their head,
And unsurprisingly now are dead.
I am sure as you will surely see,
And the poet Dylan would agree,
That as long as you ignore
The deaths of one, two three and four
How many, many, many more,
Are needed til we scream and cry?
“We caused too many youths to die!”
And for what cause? Acceptance.
Whose loss is needed for our repentance?
It’s all well acting free and wild,
But each of us is someone’s child -
Whose loss would surely cause sadness,
Hurt and pain and grief and madness?
And stomaching death is much harder
Than soap or dirt or grease or lard or
Whatever miscellaneous things
This activity inevitably brings.
Just saying “no” might make you quiver
But trust me; it’s better for your liver -
And living x years sans hurt or maim
Is worth > than 15 minutes of fame.
So do the maths before you do it -
Or else I bet you’ll likely rue it!
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
I have wanted you
for so long
and with such hunger
that now I think
I would rather not have you at all.
For once you’re mine
I will lose that sense of longing
and there will be nothing to
fill the agonizing empty spaces
that time inevitably blows in.
I know it is strange
and slightly moronic
but I just want to want you
for a little while longer.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
And we’ve all been there, me and my lovers,
we’ve all see our fair share of troubles.
cause Romance is Chance in the form of a Dance
and I’m sorry to say I still move like I did fifteen years ago.
Macarena with me and I’ll sweep you off your feet,
maybe someday I’ll learn to waltz and blow you away.
Until it all comes crashing down.
Because inevitably it all comes crashing down
even the Flintstones died millennia ago.
My Anna Marie, I’m sorry you left,
Europe ringed and you answered,
I guess we couldn’t afford long distance
(is that even still a thing?)
and I couldn’t wait for you,
I was too young and too ready to love again.
Dear Jenna,
Darling,
as much fun as you are
we move at different speeds,
and mine’s stuck in the slow lane.
I liked *** on the second date,
but I wasn’t ready for the **** three weeks in.
God knows I’d never try and change you
even he doesn’t have the ***** to try.
And God bless you Tiffany,
cause it ***** to die,
but it ***** even more
stuck here saying goodbye.
Bachelor Status reaffirmed:
**** sites filled to capacity
with self-made men of audacity
come to satisfy their proclivities
“Dear phantom girlfriends,
you’re here to gratify
Please entertain us in our fantasies
and our impossibly similar tendencies.
Also, it wouldn’t hurt if it’s all free.”
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Hi. Do you care enough to hear me whine?
I fear that you don’t see me
collecting dust in the dim corner of your room.
And while you stand and stare,
completely absorbed by your own despair,
I remain
ready to serve you
and your meaningless life.
I can clean your room, yet I can’t clean your mind
of the false reality exemplified by your kind.
We are similar though, you and I.
Wasting our time amassing, acquiring, accumulating.
Honestly, we’re mere specks of life,
surrendering to realities constructed by our minds.
Don’t you know that your beloved earthly pleasures
are one and the same as the ******* that I collect?
Hard-earned, elusive, temporal, disposable.
Its laughable how ignorant you are;
consumed by your own subliminal thoughts,
leaving you searching for the remnants of what is and what is not.
Can’t you see the fallacies present in your head?
Gleaming yet blinding, salient yet obscure.
Armed with benevolent promises
that ultimately leave you for dead.
Can’t you see that what you crave
will inevitably **** you down to your grave?
Incessantly coated with wondrous, tempting illusions
that disguise its true nature--garbage.
Garbage. Connect the dots, you fool.
Can’t you see that you and I are one and the same?
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Sweating on my mat, I curse!
As the light dimly flickers
Off and on it wavers
Like a torch amidst a storm.
For the ten thousandth time I wonder
What is wrong with mother?
My aggrieved home and country
Her pain is mine to bear.
She has many a tale to tell
Troubled much from deep her belly
Wonder how much she can endure
Till body and soul give in.
She was blessed by the heavens
Much to the envy of all
Yet! Alas, she mourns
And weeps in pain untold.
Time and again she follows
Sheepishly trusting her shepherds
She has had a quite a number
With tongues unknown and known
Her plight is not their vision
As she inevitably learns
Her wool and meat and milk
Are all they dare to care.
She breeds enough to share
And feed her dying lambs
But much is lost to thieves
Who lurk in shadows of shepherds.
Destined for royalty she was
But penury has robbed her glory
Awake! Oh mother Nigeria!
And reclaim your lost birthright.
© Raphael Uzor
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
When Trump and Carson fall
And the foolishness ceases
Rubio will be there
To pick up the pieces
He’s salivating
As his chance increases
He’s now looking at curtains
And White House leases
When Trump and Carson fall
And the race is in shambles
He’ll bet his house
You see. The man gambles
He’s not alone
Cuz there’s many other examples
Of men who’ve picked up swatches
And other samples
When Trump and Carson fall
And they look towards the rest
Rubio’s convinced
That he alone is the best
In fact he’s thinking
Nevertheless
It will be him and not the others
There’s no contest
When Trump and Carson fall
As inevitably they must
And Marco Rubio watches the others
Bite the dust
As they complain
Then spit and cuss
Marco will be the one
To lead the rest of us
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC
The whole concept
of adulthood
is one that seems to
trespass
from the ever-anticipated world
of the theoretical,
just to barge into your life
one night
like an uninvited drunken friend.
It will never really “hit you,”
but it’ll come **** close
the first time your aunt
offers you a glass of wine
as she and your mother
gossip frankly about
your father’s mistress—
you sip on cheap Chardonnay
and pretend to be used to the taste,
as they talk with
a middle-aged bitterness
of the man you were raised
to believe was too virtuous
to be in debt for some glitzy
engagement ring that he
bought to restart his life
with a woman he left your mother for
shortly after the pandemonium
of a guiltless affair.
The man
whose brutishness
you were told to overlook, cradling
the sparse memories
of when he’d tuck you
too tightly into bed, or
when he’d tell you that he loved you
even though half the time
you really didn’t believe him—
The man whose love confused you,
whose clumsy attempts
of fatherhood
kept the heart of a young girl
perpetually guarded
by a cautious skepticism—
The man who brought you into
a world he found absurd
as carelessly
as he raised you to face it,
torn apart
like every illusion that makes a child,
the ashes of which
that slip through your fingers
inevitably declare you
another bitter adult.
More wine will reveal
that your beloved father
is a controlling ******
and his relationship
with that *****
the whole family hates
only appears to be functioning
because she lets him have
all the control
he couldn’t exert on your mother,
even though you’ve had dinner
with the two of them a couple of times
and if you had met her
under any other circumstance (though
you’d feel like a traitor
if you said it aloud)
you wouldn’t think
she was all that bad.
In red, declarative letters
I want to write to any children I may ever bear
into this bittersweet game of ********
we play that we’ve since called ‘life,’
that when they first gaze with awe
at the unattainable grace
with which every grown-up seems to navigate
the world they created,
with all the pain of tax-paying and womanhood,
I want to scream
that we don’t know what the hell we’re doing either
and if at any point I try to convince you otherwise
you should tell your mother
that she’s full of ****
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 3:25 PM UTC