"unachievable" poems
I'm not perfect,
I know I'll never be.
I still strive for perfection,
Something I'll never have.
Society wants perfection,
Even when it says it doesn't.
Just look at ads,
Movies,
Even vegetables have to look good,
For stores to sell them.
How can anyone or anything ever be good enough when held up against something unachievable?
Something not even the seemingly perfect people have or are,
Something we all know is impossible,
But we have heard that everything is possible,
So some of us never give up,
It will never make us happy
And it will never happen.
The only way is to accept imperfections,
Accept not being perfect,
Accept being you,
Accept being different
And accept life as it is.
I'm not saying give up on your dreams,
I'm saying don't make yourself something you're not,
this ideal that you have in your head that is unattainable,
this person that's so perfect that moving towards it becomes an obsession and addiction towards unhappiness, low selfesteem, depression and never feeling good enough no matter what you do or how hard you try.
I know it's cliche, but love yourself!
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 7:01 PM UTC
Your flame glows
And flame throws
Insane vibes
Than makes my viens flow
My body over heats
To temperatures Celsius unknown
our bodies taking measures
Heighten pleasures
Too bad to be a miracle
Too good to be forgotten
Memories clone
Yet, it's heaven sent
by principle
Our bodies quake with sensations
Unbelievable
Reaching heights without ******
unachievable
Take loving making to the next decimal
Feeding our appetites until we are plenty full
And our eruptions stop exploding
And we lay there motionlessly stile
Calm as a lonely
lake as satisfied as ice is chill
Cooling each other down
like the wind does the sun
Looking at each other like our work
here is done
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.
So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.
I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
my fingers have become bored with
the quicksand of routine
they prefer to dance erotically over my typewriter
frolicking like naked ballerinas
over an ancient stage
spilling their secret thoughts
onto blank page,
after their day job
threaded together
over my lap,
or bending over to
reveal the contents
of my burlap sack
they have taken instead
to jumping over cracks
in the nothing of night
stifling the sound of silence
with assortments of clicks and clacks
punching in the perfect pitch of keys
to leave Beethoven blind
from this symphony of notes combined
and just like that at last
they have unfolded some rhyme
unachievable with ink and pencil,
without the stencil of time
dictating to work inside the lines
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Can you feel all the suffering, can you see it?
Stop embracing the hate of your own humanity, just quit it
Why all the hypocrisy?
Challenge your democracy
Aim for enlightenment
Fight against all ill torment
Oppression, alienation, inequality
The government's manipulative utilities
Explore your human aptitude
Your mind and your magnitude
Because passion is power and
You can make all evil cower
Work to open your third eye
Don't cry or comply, but rather ask "why?"
Empathy and compassion are most important
Without them, moral principles remain impotent
Our world is nothing compared to the entire universe
We are so small, egoistic, and it's getting worse
Focused on all of the wrongs ideals
Creating terrible and false ordeals
Our world is cruel and mean
Too many people die hungry
There's no such thing as equality or true justice
It does not exist in this realm of consciousness
If only we could shift the system and our ways
Then things would continue to fall into place
But change is virtually unachievable
Especially when entities with just intents are inconceivable
Human beings are clueless, trapped in a trance
Don't let yourself fall victim to your ignorance
You need to expand your knowledge and your perspective
Aim to be more pensive and introspective
Challenge absolutely everything you are told
Form your own beliefs, don't let your mind be controlled
Remove yourself from conformity and complacency
And you'll realize a multitude of problems, that I guarantee
*You can't trust anything
Hear what I'm saying
No you cant trust anything
Believing is damaging
Creating is everything, it's promising
Stop adhering to societal norms
Why do you conform
To all that
The government tells us
All that society spells for us
Why don't you realize
Wake up from all the lies
The world is an intricate place, that you can't replace
But you can change your ways and your pace
Create some displacement in the system
Stand up your rights
And what you believe in
Be genuine
Imagine
Not one person, thing, or system
Can tell us, control us, conform us*
With enough minds open and motivated
We can help those oppressed and alienated
We can change this race for the better
Let's all work to be that kind of trendsetter
Come on, let's start a movement
So we can see some real improvement
In our world, our ways, and our wisdom
But most importantly in the system
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
Every goal can be accomplish, with a little self motivation, nothings out of reach, people may steal away hope like an infant hidden away from his mother or an old man's cane assmbled out of reach; never let anybody astray you away from your dream; love one's nor foe's, use the criticism to your adavange and elevate yourself to unachievable possibilities within a broken system.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC
An Open Letter to my Best Friend
You, dear are the strongest person I know,
And trust me when I say, I know a lot of people.
You stand, rooted as deep as an oak tree in my heart
Your eyes find their way into my dreams, burning with passion and fired belief.
Your sorrow matches the winds of the sea
Constantly badgering you
With the threat of drowning,
I'm so scared you'll take yourself from me.
Your voice is something,
I can only be thankful for
Coming to me in times of need
It has all the power to make my heart soar, suturing the bleed.
Your dreams,
You've been told,
Are far fetched at best
And unachievable at most.
What people don't understand
Is unicorns are shy creatures
Who just don't have the heart
To prove they exist.
Even though they run free,
Jump high
And take great pride
(Their horns are always meticulously shined.)
I think back on the times
You taught me to be strong
Without even knowing
You were consistently adding words
To my life's song.
The melody just a little sweeter
While it plays in my head
Added like you do with sugar to your coffee before bed.
Sparingly,
But needed.
Oh so very needed.
You, my darling, have your roots dug deep
Your dreams being dreamed
Your life, I do believe
Is worth so much more than an amount that any bank could offer,
Is worth more than the english language can explore,
And all I need you need to remember,
The alphabet is composed of 26 letters,
Voldemort wasn't always in power,
take each insult
And pull a Tom Marvolo Riddle out
of the sorting hat.
Believe that the positive outweighs the negative,
And yes that means your scale is wrong.
Tumblr's idea of pretty girls,
Doesn't take place in my song.
So this is an open letter,
To my very best friend.
Darling, please know
You can always depend
and lean
and cry on
and hate
and call
and love
and trust
me.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 10:10 PM UTC
Through the serpentine path
Concealed from prying eyes
Walks the courageous heart
Towards a destination unknown
Numerous fangs, ready to bite
To inject the venomous intent
And incapacitate the heart
Seeking the unachievable
The braveheart dodges hurdles
Stares down fear itself
Arduous journey takes its toll
Small sacrifice to reach the pinnacle
Where none have been before
Will be written in folklore
Valiant one who walked the path
None dared to tread before
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
Infinities and unfathomables
Unseeables and unthinkables
They want the unachievable
But all I ask in this transcient state
Is a tiny forever
Just within the confines of possibility
Just outside the realm of reality
Right in the center of your soul.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
a false hope,
mindless optimism,
delusion.
an unattainable target,
an unachievable goal,
self pity.
a false hope,
misunderstanding,
regret.
love,
or not,
forget.
remember,
repent,
rejuvenate.
forget,
fall,
repeat.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 5:41 PM UTC
your first step on the road to "recovery"
was to tape words on your reflection
colors littered with senseless lessons
colors littered with senseless rules
your second step on the road to "recovery"
was to trail words on the thin walls
tainting the white trim of your door
the words were like water seeping from
your demon flooded bedroom
your third step on the road to "recovery"
was to illustrate the words in unsustainable images
literally photoshopped to the unachievable
recovery became self indulgence
you have a skewed sense of progress
thinking consuming the clean will clear you of your sins
but your sins are buried deep in the abandonment you kept hidden
in the hallows of your debt
self recovery cannot be found with words spat out of context
hanging on your reflection
self recovery is found when you reflect those words into context
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
there's still
a single ray of hope
in every corner of your heart
when everything is unachievable
and when you start to believe
in
impossible
©IGMS
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
We are imperfect products
placed in the midst
of an imperfect society,
a vicious cycle of perseverance
and failure:
constructed,
broken,
fixed,
and fixed again.
Airbrushed and painted
to perfection:
pale skin
flushed cheeks
slim legs
and a smooth mindset.
Opinionated only
on the matter of
superficial products –
glamorizing and embellishing.
Deteriorating enamel –
cracks in a varnished frame.
A scratched surface,
damaged to the core,
polished and glazed over.
Skin made paler,
cheeks more flushed,
skin and bones,
and a mind wiped clean.
Unachievable expectations
and inevitable failure
are enough to b r e a k
even the toughest material
d
o
w
n.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Entropy will **** you,
Brutally, and without consent.
You think you're special?
You're the universe's *****
Not only that,
You're one of the universe's billions of *******
And on the day of judgement,
The universe will gather all its little *******
And **** them, in one spectacular ****
Of light and energy,
Order and disorder.
A grand bukakke,
Flooding space and time in a tidal wave of cosmic ****
But as you're floating around,
Your energy distributing evenly,
You get the last laugh.
You have tempted and tickled the universe,
Toward an unachievable goal.
The ****** that can never be reached:
The state of perfect entropy.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 8:25 AM UTC
Being in gymnastics
Is like being in an abusive relationship
Everything just tells you "NO"
But you still stay
From the bars,
And how it releases the grips of your hands
To the beam,
Which only aims to make you wobble and fall off
To the vault,
Running full speed to it only to make you miss the vault
To the floor,
Wherein you try to flip and twist only to be defeated by Newton's law of gravity
With the stupid scoring system
Pointing out every flaw
With a deduction
Just cause your bra strap is showing
jeez!
And how we are trained to achieve the unachievable —
How every move is supposed to be precise
Every muscle squeezed and tight —
Perfection
And the fact that
You'll never actually be the best
There's always a harder skill
After you've achieved what you may think
Is your "hardest"
It pushes you
To your breaking point
Forcing you to be
This perfect formed strong gymnast
Which pays so much costs
Literally blood, sweat and tears
It tells you that
Every ******* time you fall
You just gotta get back up
And try again
That no matter how much sore you are
You gotta **** it up
And do it again
And again and again and again
Until you finally get it
But there are these magical moments
those little moments of pure happiness
When you get a skill you've been working on
When coach praises you for your improvement
When you get over your fear
And when you stand on top of that platform
Knowing you gave it your all
These moments
Are what keep us going
These moments
Are what we come back for
Time after time after leaving the gym saying
"I hate training!"
There's just something about
These moments so special
That keeps us wanting more
And I will never
ever
Stop loving gymnastics
No matter how many times it hurts me
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds so that the flies may feast on us
The limit has been set by those who infest us with fallacy and hypocrisy.
Those who pull the strings so that they remain kings as their subjects decay.
Those who grab things which belong to all the African kings of today!
“Keep them in the dark, let them not see the goodness of light”, they say.
But I am the light of Africa and I will shine so bright to open up their eyes so that they may shine more than I shine
Africa is not poor, Africa is being looted
Africans are not poor, they are just being cheated.
Bribe is costing our lives as our corrupt leaders misuse our resources
People are dying as the leaders grow fat and untouchable.
Transparency and good governance seems unachievable
Discrepancies of unscrupulous activities surfaces whenever the media starts to deceive
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Our silence is tolerance to injustice and violence
They have violated our minds with their dead conscience.
They have desecrated our rights with their dead ignorance
We are all leaders lets dethrone these dealers
They have annihilated those who could bring change because of their arrogance
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Kufa nenyota makumbo arimumvura
Honai Baba isu tatambura
Kudya nhoko dzezvironda
Honai Ishe tauyaura
Siyahlupeka!!!!
Huyai mutinunure
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Distort the message
Corrupt the masses
Falsify the knowledge
Blindfold the masses
Broad day sacrilege
Sacrifice those who speak out
To satisfy the deplorable desire
And insatiate the insatiable greed.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
You Leaders we erected you are smart...
Using our money to fund your reelection processes
As you feed us with promises which are nothing but lies
All the efforts your make are to meet the interests of your pockets
All the votes you take are to increase the weights of your accounts
You leaders we've elected you disgust.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
What are we?
A race in need because of those who lead?
A curse on the face of the earth because of our creed?
We are a unique and immortal breed.
We are going to change our heads so that we succeed.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
Before the thaw, my feet will be rooted
Into this nation’s primordial freeze
My muscles and bones will be acquainted with malaise
The sun’s altruism will be refuted
Before the thaw, I will struggle to find consciousness
The frost will leak through the bedroom window
And don the facade of a blanket
The door will prove to be bottomless
Possibilities will seem unachievable
The brain will itch for what it can not have
Buses will limp through congestion
And the blizzards may feast on the feeble
You may want to write of your misery
But your automation will halt in cataclysm
Because someone held a door open
For the gust that billows bitterly
Gastric emissions will become tangible
As smouldering wastes contrast against the sky with rancour
The wispy whites, marginalized into *****
And the world remains infallible
I will lack the tools of incision
To enact my life’s revisions
I will weep for my unguided millions
While I saunter into oblivion
After the thaw, I will smile
My expatriate soul will run in the whimsical wind
Of the morning dayspring that will march unto me
I will stand over a kingdom of honey-filled tiles
After the thaw, the arks will converge
Into the straits of the Bermudian Sea and the
Elusive Caspian Forest, where I will learn to love again
While bidding farewell to winter’s dirge
In the waking world, I will ***** a limestone castle
Where entropy will rule and the mind’s domain
Is left susceptible to perennial reverence
The sea, coloured true, nesting a fairgrounds vessel
In this Great Revision, gargantuan skyways
Will show the world how exiguous we are
That we must not wait for exodus to come
Should we fear to waste away
Into icebergs
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
My uncle slit a man's throat with a box cutter in my childhood home and didn't apologize.
Sitting in a circle filled with crack smoke and stale beer breath.
This is a shining example of what I've lived with
and the lengths I've had to go to escape the thing people call "destiny".
Thievery, lies, pressure, and violence
has been calling my name for the longest.
But I know the voice too well to be taunted.
Words are my freedom and words are my piece of mind.
There is not a single substitute.
Whether poem, prose, or paragraph,
This is the only calling I've ever had.
I've lived with a hoarder, addicts, senility, and ignorance
in a variety of different combinations and forms.
At times, power, water, freedom, money, necessities, have all been an unachievable thing to me.
Lost to the vile goals of those folk I love.
I am the only one who sees the beauty in the fragile and odd.
The others see only a mess on a paper, and move their eyes to the nearest glowing box.
My father drowned when I was six.
My grandfather followed soon after.
My mother felt the stab of this and caved so many times.
I witnessed and shared the burden of her pain and grief.
My grandmother forgot everything she ever loved or knew, and short after passed as well.
Pets and possessions,
friends and followers.
All gone with a drastic breeze.
I am the one with the vision, but I am trapped in a shell of a city,
covered with that wretched stink of refined soy.
Will I be able to unburden the world from myself?
You all give me such great courage and allow me to share the beauty as I see it.
You all have such great skill with symbols and it makes me feel like home isn't far.
I want this. I want this.
If I keep breathing like the rest of the world
I feel I may miss the sound of the world's heartbeat.
But my death would not bring a solution for the ones I love.
Only a warrant for more death.
I need this. I need this.
With my words, I conjure up hell.
And hell brings with it the familiar.
Run little kitties, run.
The Doubling House and The Sequential Church will not hold forever.
My havens are temporary, but the craters are forever.
I will struggle till the pain becomes all I am
and I buckle under the weight of what I shouldn't have taken
from the mighty Atlas.
I do this for me.
I do this for you.
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
You are so close but fear away
like a dream I can see but never a achieve
I wish to ask you the question
but I am afraid of what you my say
so it is easier to hide
away old feelings
That I have
Everyday
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
If one word was to define who you were -
Not what you were like or how you come across -
But what and who you are,
I would strive for sincerity.
Capturing the nuance of being counter-cultural
(stark against the world we live in);
Honest to the point of perfect precision in what I say and mean;
Genuine in openness and lacking deceit;
Firm and unmoving against the tide;
Secure in the validity of that on which I stand;
Disciplined for integrity and truth;
Heartfelt and reliable (despite frequent shortcomings);
Prepared not only to go the distance but to run it,
To invest and care through thick and thin,
Not to forgo earnest in the buffering and buffeting;
Wholeheartedly honourable, the man others would wish to be;
Virtuous and steadfast in quality and character,
A rock to hold onto, a solid foundation,
A dedication to being authentic and true.
No false wax to the visage you see,
An artistic and inhuman ideal.
-
Sincerity has been under attack, besieged as an unachievable goal
In a world focused on the self - to be selfless seems foolishness.
Attention in this life lasts the sum amount of difficulties;
We flee from the floodplains when the river comes
Rather than endure and be refined by rich streams.
Sincerity does not crumble under commitment,
Nor erode in the face of effort:
Prepared to invest, forgoing instant gratification,
Persevering under pressure whilst all else fades.
It does not shrink from the fight but turns its cheek,
It forgives the slight and suffers for the lost,
It carries the cross for the rejected and the weak,
It sacrifices all it has at great personal cost,
It stands up to scrutiny when it stands for truth,
It lives and dies in unfathomable love.
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
Unborn and already
A path has been chosen
By those that are not them -
To become another cog
In the inescapable machine that is society.
Born - early, half dead.
A step toward failure in
The eyes of their creator
For what they cannot control -
To be fixed and set right
On the path that they will learn to detest.
Developing - on time
To the doctors’ surprise.
The creator gives praise,
But the approval never lasts -
The environment is unsteady and
Unfit for angels to properly grow.
Learning - to please
Instead of exist as one’s own,
Matured in the wrong ways
For an angel of that age -
Molded to never cause concern
No matter the magnitude of circumstance.
An inconvenience to their maker
Unless they could be shown off
For the benefit of the creator -
In private often belittled
And ignored for so much as being a child.
In public a model,
A display of perfection -
Quiet, reserved. Listens well.
A miniature of their puppetmaster
(As what the creator allowed to be seen).
Yearning - to deviate
To become their own
Without the wrath that
Has always followed a stray
From the carefully chosen path
That their master has made so
Impossibly unachievable.
Desperate - attempting to remove
Their wings, Trying everything to
Fall from grace -
To be cast aside and never acknowledged
Or cared for again.
An attempt to be free
Executed in the worst ways -
Broken and bleeding they
Almost always return to
The way it was before as
Their creator sees nothing but
A way to start over and
Mold them once again
Into something unattainable.
For the rest of eternity
All the angels who taste individuality
Pursue endlessly that
Momentary tinge of
Identity; willing to
Try anything and
Everything to become
Angels of their own
Once again, well
If you could call them that.
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
Someone to make every wreckage on our damaged souls insignificant.
A mind of sanity and imagination. Eyes of the innocent. Mouth and ears that knows truth from false. A love so stunning and pleasant that it's
unachievable.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
Lost Soul, Not Searching
Looking for immediate relief
To cure you for the moment
Of your inner grief
Quick high, no time to cry
numb, false happiness takes over
Everything looks good
When you're climbing the white cliffs of Dover
Sadness hidden, mask protecting
Could be anyone inside
True identities gone for the moment
White blanket does so well to hide
Talk about the impossible
Everything seems so clear
no sign of darkness
only the light is near
Everything is achievable today
But what about tomorrow?
Start descending, blanket lifted
here comes the sorrow
The mask of reality hits
Starkness is a dampener
Mood sets in
Lost feeling returned, positivity is hampered
The possible now seems unachievable
This day now unmanageable
Light dims, darkness returns
Nothing seems obtainable
Not coping,
Once again choosing the direction of oblivion
Where all seems well
No one can tell
That internally you are struggling
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 11:59 AM UTC
If nothing, She was a statue in the whistling wind
A perfect notion, an ideal image
Her heart no longer beating
for lack of love and not eating
Still
A lonely tear falls down her cold cheek
Falling
Into the unknown
Into the dark, dismal world
Where a beautiful soul was frozen
Where a beating heart was broken
The taunts, the tears, the laughs and stares
feeling as though nobody cares
A life bound to a distorted reflection
Chasing the unachievable dream of perfection
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
I have nothing to say because you've made me realise how stupid I've been and nothing can make it better now.
It can't be fixed. It's broken. Shattered.
How stupid I was to believe what we had was ever strong enough to withhold everything you made me feel, the weight of the pain, the duality of our emotions
how naïve I was to believe in the unachievable, that I could reach the unreachable
I've realised how much I have been used, just something on the side that's always there for convenience, for the experience, but never for the love that I deserved
And how stupidly naïve I've been to keep playing your twisted game, to keep convincing myself that your lies were the truth - even through doubt and accusations I believed in you, to keep allowing myself to fall deeper and deeper into the quicksand that was consuming me, the water that was drowning me, the light that was blinding me that was
stupid, stupid, stupid
I've realised how much one tiny thing can affect you and make you feel so much that you don't know what to feel, so you just feel nothing, empty, worthless
I've realised how quickly you can go from being everything to someone, their whole world, then the next moment you're everything you never thought you'd be - a broken music string, a shard of broken glass, something that was once part of something beautiful, but that they no longer need, easily replaceable yet imperfectly replicable
How someone transforms from a caring companion to a silent stranger without you noticing or believing, and you waste your days and nights stupidly, relentlessly torturing yourself with thoughts about the exact moment that this transformation may have occurred, torturing yourself about all the things you should have done, should have said, but you didn't, suddenly carry the weight of all the sadness and heartache in your life
But of course this weight is still yours. And the carrier is still you.
Or rather the shadow of what you should have been.
I still have nothing to say. A million thoughts but no words. I will not let words betray me - my thoughts keep me safe. I will not let emotions consume me - small hope keeps me sane. it is
stupid, stupid, stupid
to believe that I don't deserve to carry this weight all the way out of the broken path of pain and regret, to release it in the light of new possibilities and new ideas and new behaviour because I am now free
- I can be who I want to be and think what I want to think and say what I want to say -
I will no longer be broken glass but a mosaic, no longer a broken string but an instrument, because no one is obstructing the construction of my goals and no one is disrupting the formation of my dreams and no one is making me believe I don't deserve what I want, that I don't deserve more than what you gave me.
I've realised how stupid I was to believe in you.
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC