"unforeseeable" poems
Been a week since the new year arrived at dawn's door
Seven sunrises had passed making way for many more
Resolutions, wishes, aspirations cast into winds of new days
In hopes they'd be carried forth on each dawn's new rays
*Let us welcome the fresh air that come
Inhale it deep as reminder that we're luckier than some
Let us embrace the opportunity of time
A privilege bestowed so we could still pen in rhyme
Let us cherish the love from family and new found friends
Shower upon them the gift of verse that never ends
Let us strengthen existing virtual and physical connections
Reinforce them with kindness, fortitude and good intentions
Let us sieve past experiences that mar us black
Dispense with animosity, ill thoughts and considerations that lack
Let us trudge forward into the unknown together
Hands in hands and hearts to hearts into the unforeseeable future*
No matter who you are or where you've been
We'll all get our fair share of twenty fifteen
We've all been granted if you'd only take advantage
In the great book of life, on a fresh, brand new page
Do note that this is just ideal advice not so much as a plea
I know the journey is long, arduous and never easy
I hope these words I've penned would lighten your load
Little bites of wisdom (I hope) for the long meandering road
I can't promise the rise of the nightly moon
But the sun will rise where you are; and it will arrive very soon
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
Come.
Reside in me.
There is a void here.
There is no life here.
The doors are completely open.
But I don't remember keeping them open for you..
With your face covered in darkness
It is unforeseeable to look at my future
And yet.
You stand tall with your sword
On your left side.
You are not welcome here.
Thanathos
I never said I desire death.
Though I do, inside my head.
So leave.
Now.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 5:37 AM UTC
Sliding lies
tracing convincing paths down her cheeks
Never do they fall when they should
in times of pain
or times of suffering
Only do they fall
in times of dishonesty
or times of treachery
When did it become this way?
In a forgotten past
they fell for scraped knees
and they fell for broken toys
and they fell for innocence
In an unwanted present
they fall for deception
and they fall for insincerity
and they don't fall for innocence lost
In an unforeseeable future
they will fall for remorse
and they will fall for guilt
and they will fall for regret
Why did it become that way?
For now there is no guilt
and remorse couldn't be farther than the stars
So she continues to let them fall
those tiny sliding lies
that no one ever questions
And she knows one day
someone will
and they will ask her
How did you become this way?
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
Faraway from home and lost with the wild
the mystical fog has surrounded my sight
From seeing the road that lies ahead.
should I despair and sensed be in fright?
My predicament has left me in dread.
Fog slowly suffocates me from my breath.
In my anguish, I cry out to the Lord,
“This path could lead me to my imminent death!
I’ve no guts to walk through the forlorn fog.
Must I walk alone through gravel road and sward?”
Through the smoky fog, a Lyre Bird flutters-
fans his feathers in majestic manner
and sings sweetly like warm days of summer.
Has the lord listened and made his answer?
In the fog, the dusk of doubts dissipate.
Though I walk on this unforeseeable path,
My body burns with vitality of hope
as I've finally found faith in the fog
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 1:05 AM UTC
Yesterday’s but a drop
In the ocean of the past.
Its sorrows, joys, triumphs, defeat
Highs, lows all crushed to a uniform
“Consistency” In the crucible of experience.
And so every so often
With the frequency and urgency
Of reaching yearningly for a cookie jar
We reach out to the repository of experience
To live through once again
The moments that inspired either awe or consternation.
Each waking moment, we replenish the contents
Of this cookie jar so it never runs out
Thus partaking of its essence into the unforeseeable future.
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 2:58 AM UTC
A mother's blood shed at the hand of a son,
not that of a stranger.
A man full of anger
So much anger he consumed or should I say consumed him
Life from her very womb,
Robbed her of her future as she took her last breath.
Did she go quickly? Or did she see the pain he inflicted
Freedom restricted
Innocence taken
Lives forever shaken.
Children running and screaming
From stray bullets streaming
Those that were spared
Forever shattered and scared.
Scars left...
in the presence of death.
Too young to comprehend
When and how do they begin to mend
Little hearts broken
To young to explain the pain they are feeling, words go unspoken.
Families waiting for their children to come home
Just as they do each and everyday
The sound of their laughter
the looks of joy as they play.
But not today!
Gone!
Taken!
Forever heartbroken and shaken!
An empty house filled with sadness and tears
looking back on short lived memories
not enough time,
such short lived years.
Presents awaiting these innocent lives
under the Christmas tree.
Forever unopened,
sitting there, bare, empty
ever reminding the broken hearted
of the last morning they got their children off to school
Never to come home to the safety of their arms
Unable to protect them from an unforeseeable harm.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 7:34 PM UTC
Sometimes I wonder
If despite the love we share
-The unrequited love only family can fathom-
If there is any hate beneath
Perhaps hate is too harsh of a word,
Resent sounds better.
Do you resent me?
Even for the shortest of moments,
Even the most minuscule amount,
Do you resent me?
Not me personally
(Or so I hope)
But for things that have happened
Because of me,
Just because I am your sister?
For the things I took from you,
Never out of malice or spite,
Usually unknowingly,
And completely out of necessity,
Because there was no other option?
For the unforeseeable problems
That unfortunately arose
With their arduous effects
Reaching not only me
But you also?
For the things you were forced to do,
In my unintentional absences?
For the consequences of things
I had no control over?
I know you love me, I do
But is there a part of you that resents me too?
I wouldn't blame you,
I really, truly wouldn't-
Because secretly
I resent me too.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
I killed a butterfly today
then tried to write a poem
I don’t know why I did it
It died without a home
It struck me as compelling
as I recalled what my parents used to say
be mindful of your surroundings
a flap of butterfly wings can change a day
I thought little of it then
yet now I obsess as I reminisce
if a butterfly flap can change so much
what of the absence of it?
Have I sealed my fate to infamy
or paved my way to riches
but maybe if I **** another?
my unforeseeable fate switches
But what’s a butterfly to me?
it wasn’t much before
now you expect me to believe
it holds the key to what’s in store?
Free will must exist
at least as long as I believe it to
foolish of me to think my dead butterfly
could have some affect on you
Yet I sit here thinking
of thoughts I’ve never had
a liar I would be to tell you
that I haven’t changed a tad
It did not have a name
and I did not have a reason
yet as I blankly stared down
I felt as if I had committed treason
So I sweep away the body
and leave the room to clear my head
if my hand’s never clapped
this butterfly would not be dead
so be wary of the change you bring
the waves you choose to make
that butterfly could have changed a day
and not believing that was my mistake
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 5:23 AM UTC
I don't think we are afraid of the dark.
No, more of what it so effortlessly conceals.
An unforeseeable threat lurking in the infinite darkness.
It plays a sly little waiting game,
Like an opponent anticipating the move of a chess piece,
Sure to be the next tragic victim...
Until,
Checkmate.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 7:54 PM UTC
Blame it on bad timing or the weather
Blame it on traffic or your kids
Blame it on whatever is handy
Blame it on someone else
Because God forbid you see fault in yourself
To be responsible for your own actions regardless of the outcome
There are worse things in life than an honest mistake or bad choices
But to be blind to the fact that they are choices you yourself made
Or to close your eyes and pretend that unforeseeable mistakes did not happen
And seeing the outcome effect others
Well, that's just a weight not worth bearing
So man up and take the fall since it was you who stumbled
Don't take anyone along for the ride
You will find that you won't be alone on your journey
But that decision is yours alone to make
Living in denial of self, with no trust and no heart will never lead to happiness
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 7:01 PM UTC
We’re all just waiting.
Just waiting for something.
Anything.
Hoping it won’t pass us by.
Completely still, we linger.
Thinking it will find us.
We stand idly by.
Wishing, wanting, needing.
Looking for some sort of sign.
A peek into the unforeseeable future.
We yearn to have decisions made for us.
Not wanting to bear the consequences.
If we always wait, it will surely pass us by.
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 3:05 PM UTC
We can't find
our paradise on clouds
My hands are together praying
between two houses on fire,
Whilst I watch the unforeseeable
Perish into ashes of wool-gather.
Razors, Scissors and chainsaws
will cut me all the same,
Yet you were the bloodiest cut
I've ever been prescribed,
Poison drips from your skin
matching the sap from weeping willows.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 8:46 AM UTC
Flickering lights
Scrolling past image after image
Of loss, suffering
While i lay back on my bed
My life is mirage of the chaos outside
Papers strewn about my desk
An internal struggle for innovation
Ignorant of what lays beyond the cold, glass windows
A hand cast over my eyes
Shielding them from what is too painful to see
As the numbness washes over me
i stare at the ceiling
Stressing over what to do with my life
No purpose, no hope
A feeling of uselessness
Maybe i should just die
A self-centered voice cries out
No one would care
No one would notice
but what would happen?
i question
is it really better--
to live without a hint of the future to come
or to die knowing the outcome?
the idea flew away
gone away like the rain
Yet the blinds remain closed
To the outside world
Only the strobe effect of artificial lights fill the room
Shut into a enclosed space
Where only i stay
Poring over words
Their beauty
Their pain
Once, we were unable to look at a violent image
Without regurgitating
Now i can see something like that and compartmentalize it
Trap it in a box, never to be seen again
No more tears fall from my once-swollen lids
As i’ve moved on from the emotional
Towards an unforeseeable future
Dehumanized
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
These sparks, these enigmas tied down to the strings
Of my sewn together heart, keep me well alive.
And if I could but paint the color of kiss on your lips,
This insurmountable feeling of being,
I would.
Yet you have unwound the thread.
The blood pulsed once, but now aches for ignition,
And I wait for the return, for the ambulance,
That exists somewhere in the world of
Broken hearts, chained and silent memories.
This feeling of being lost, for what seems eternity,
Aches the muscles in a most unforeseeable,
Detaching and persistent, morbid way.
For the thoughts precede when unspoken,
In triggers of the smallest things.
In a song, a melancholy remedy,
And in the sky, the stars that burn with deathly fire,
As do I - yearning for what has past.
If time could change, I would wish it all back.
But time shall steal away.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
I killed a butterfly today
then tried to write a poem
I don’t know why I did it
It died without a home
It struck me as compelling
as I recalled what my parents used to say
be mindful of your surroundings
a flap of butterfly wings can change a day
I thought little of it then
yet now I obsess as I reminisce
if a butterfly flap can change so much
what of the absence of it?
Have I sealed my fate to infamy
or paved my way to riches
but maybe if I **** another?
my unforeseeable fate switches
But what’s a butterfly to me?
it wasn’t much before
now you expect me to believe
it holds the key to what’s in store?
Free will must exist
at least as long as I believe it to
foolish of me to think my dead butterfly
could have some affect on you
Yet I sit here thinking
of thoughts I’ve never had
a liar I would be to tell you
that I haven’t changed a tad
It did not have a name
and I did not have a reason
yet as I blankly stared down
I felt as if I had committed treason
So I sweep away the body
and leave the room to clear my head
if my hand’s never clapped
this butterfly would not be dead
so be wary of the change you bring
the waves you choose to make
that butterfly could have changed a day
and not believing that was my mistake
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Today, I read, in the newspaper
about someone's daughter drowning
an accident,
an unforeseeable misfortune,
and I've come to the reality
that we can never know
the truth depths of what has happened to this family.
From this moment
their fleeting lives
will be droplets of water
that are trying to fill--
some void of where their
daughter used to swim.
And no matter
how calm the ocean becomes
it will always have the waves
that started from this day,
till the day; they too die.
It shakes me
and causes me to grieve for them
that I cannot share their pain
that as an outsider
I can only imagine the anguish.
I do not know these people
I have never met their daughter
and I will never meet them or her
but I can dream of their emotions--
it is a think haze of disbelief
"that something so terrible
would happen to me, my family."
And not only is their daughter dead
but they are empty--
They have now a room
full of belongings
that some how no longer belong
to anyone in the world.
Their suffering has only begun,
because the rush of death
leaves each person breathless,
and it is only when the air
decides to come back to their lungs
and the ripples of the waves
have begun to subside
that their real world will set in.
And their bleakest truth will come to fruition,
as the family sits bedside
to an empty bed, where their daughter sleeps--
they will imagine the same as me
that maybe they're just dreaming--
when they wake up
she'll be back with them again.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 5:28 AM UTC
When you say I won't ever be there.
To watch anymore sunsets, chase your fears, or even hold your hand;
It wasn't because I let your value diminish.
I simply could no longer sit there and watch you diminish mine.
Those times of care, love, and safety were beyond the heavens in the unforeseeable skies.
But what's it worth when it all seems to brittle up and die?
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
The floor cared not about the transient presence of my bare, calloused feet upon it, and it returned no hushed squeaks or slaps to the questioning foot-falls of my tired, heavy steps. In fact, the only indicator I had moved about at all were the spattered sand drifts that flaked off my soles slowly with the grinding of my heels in each trip.
A soft, self satisfied whisper came from the edges of my cotton skirt as it dipped down to drink momentarily, the cool insulation of the tile floors grazing its parched lips.
I hadn't had a cigarette in months. hadn't even crossed my mind, truly. Something in the sticky summer air called me to revisit old tendencies, and it was admittedly maddening trying to resist. I had already done the hard part. That was, going about acquiring the ****** things. I was out of a car due to some irresponsibility and malfeasance on my own part, and the engine blowing on my former transport. Besides, I had no real notion where the nearest filing station was, seeing as this wasn't my city. For a moment, I let the unforeseeable notion sweep me away with it, and tried persuading it to disappear.
It was merely out of chance that on the way home from the beach earlier this evening, our car would be in need of filling up. As he fiddled with the various buttons and nozzles on the marquee, I slipped discretely inside and purchased a pack of my old favorites. I contemplated lighting one up immediately but suddenly, I felt ashamed for my relent in defense against temptation, and instead tucked them away, un-tampered.
The sun and all of its steaminess had sunken back into the earth, and a cool sea breeze swelled about me and rushed in through the passenger side window to ruffle my hair. I had spent twenty minutes into primping it just right, but it was the end of the night and had decided to give up caring as I edged my head closer to that blustering wind.
Back home again, my fingers found the crisp plastic-lined corners of cardboard stuck in the left side of my clutch and, once again I toyed with the idea of giving in. No use, I had nothing to spark with. I let the package fall back into its place in exasperation.
I suppose it's better this way.
C.e.M. June 22
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:22 PM UTC
I killed a butterfly today
then tried to write a poem
I don’t know why I did it
It died without a home
It struck me as compelling
as I recalled what my parents used to say
be mindful of your surroundings
a flap of butterfly wings can change a day
I thought little of it then
yet now I obsess as I reminisce
if a butterfly flap can change so much
what of the absence of it?
Have I sealed my fate to infamy
or paved my way to riches
but maybe if I **** another?
my unforeseeable fate switches
But what’s a butterfly to me?
it wasn’t much before
now you expect me to believe
it holds the key to what’s in store?
Free will must exist
at least as long as I believe it to
foolish of me to think my dead butterfly
could have some affect on you
Yet I sit here thinking
of thoughts I’ve never had
a liar I would be to tell you
that I haven’t changed a tad
It did not have a name
and I did not have a reason
yet as I blankly stared down
I felt as if I had committed treason
So I sweep away the body
and leave the room to clear my head
if my hand’s never clapped
this butterfly would not be dead
so be wary of the change you bring
the waves you choose to make
that butterfly could have changed a day
and not believing that was my mistake
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Always might be all of time
It might be the entirety of space
Perhaps just a lifetime
Who can say wether it is to be the lifetime of a tulip or the lifetime of a turtle
Of a towering mountain or a winding river
As long as the sun sets and as long as it rises
Time cannot justify always
Always might be a construct, a net
Gifting us the ability to believe our matters matter amongst all of matter
How can we possibly promise always,
Not even knowing how long that'll be
It has the potential to be a broken promise or a faithful gift
Probably both
It's fact- something that has been and cannot be altered
Longer than the shadow cast by the sun setting beyond the looming mountain yet shorter than the flicker of a weak flame
It is everything in between
An unquantifiable infinity
Anywhere between the earth on which you sit and the unforeseeable universe
All this doubt yet 'always' sounds so solidly sure and concrete
We will always wonder how long always is
Not a statement but a question because: how long is that?
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
It’s unwavering and waits until everyone has
forgotten the sting of the last fallen warrior
to rear its hideous head and take another.
Its speed is unimaginable, unpredictable,
and unforgiveable. It brings both relief
and sorrow so encasing that the depths of
the Pacific could both marvel at and fear
the capacity to which this monster can bring
someone down. It leaves us gasping
for breath and wiping our salty-rimmed eyes
as we try to imagine a more cheerful face
and try to wrap our heads around the fact
that our last family dinner really will be that:
our last. It takes time for us to forgive this
natural force that breaks apart families
to only bring them closer to unite in
the passing and the rejoicing of a well-lived life.
It will come, yet only once the initial stab
of shock and sadness fades, slower
for the ones most closely knitted.
I am extremely saddened at the unforeseeable fall
of your fatherly image and warming smile.
I recall the swims in your backyard pool as we
laughed and played marco polo as you watched on
with your wife, embracing in the happiness and warmth
that summer brought us cousins. We may not have been
related by the blood that ran through our veins,
but we were related by love, matrimony, and
a warming kindness that radiated from you.
I thank you for allowing me to know you,
the Christmas gifts despite the distance between us,
the grey of your hair that signified years of life experience,
the wrinkled fingers that signified your wisdom.
I will look upon the family you have left behind
as you move on to whatever waits for you past mortality
and make sure they remember your laugh and the time
you feel asleep and snored through the Thanksgiving
football game you were talking about earlier that morning
and the kindness you gave them and the happiness you
continually brought to all of them.
I mourn your death and celebrate your life because
although we wish you could have stayed here
with us for a longer time, you were here
enough to truly live.
We will continue to hold onto happy memories
and reminisce to hold you close to our hearts.
Rest in peace, to you, and look down upon your loved ones as we remember you.
March 1, 2014 1:08:46 PM
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Started off by speaking of
how wonderful the evening was
the bottles were all dusty
but the morphine was a decent buzz
he slurred all of his words
but I think he kept on speaking of
cause’ he knew I was trying to decypher
what the meaning was
He said
It could be after this epiphany I’m finish
There’s no mystery in existence
the symmetry is consistent
and speaking of the symmetry consistent
how distant
is the difference in divinity
of every God that isn’t
Do you believe that there is a higher power
He said,
Well,
I doubt that there is a heaven
and I don’t believe in hell
but as far as higher power
I know many more than one
I mean I can’t imagine
anyone as mighty as the sun
They could built a bigger light
or light a bigger gun
but you can only run around it
so many laps until you're done.
You’re going to die
and that is why life is all meaningless
you’re life goes by fast though
and that is where all the meaning is
I asked, “Are you dying?”
He said,
We all are,
We are only in it as long
as we can survive for
you could play a part of it
and live your life behind a lock door
either way you’ll probably be longing
for an encore
Are you dying?
He said
We all are
We are only in it as long
as we can survive for
you could play a part of it
and live your life behind a lock door
either way you’ll probably be longing
for an encore
Thinking about you now
choking on them memories
If you would of told me
to stop smoking
I would of done it eventually
Yo Jon
was always there in late nights
waiting on some sleep
till the penetrating daylight
it came bright and early
we started to embrace life
in a new way
started living every day like
his last because’ he knew
the end would come fast
and we knew that he was right
but we never really ask
what would happen
if it happen
couldn’t fathom a reaction
if one day he was laughing
and relaxing
and the next day
he vanish left his body
on this planet
and I took him for granted
that I couldn't really understand it
We agreed that the meaning of life was
unforeseeable like
what would be
the freedom of night
you lived well homie
I learned a lot from you rest in peace
You’ll be missed
but its time that you
get some sleep
I asked, “Are you dying?”
He said,
We all are,
We are only in it as long
as we can survive for
you could play a part of it
and live your life behind a lock door
either way you’ll probably be longing
for an encore
I asked, “Are you dying?”
He said,
We all are,
We are only in it as long
as we can survive for
You probably never knew
what you want
what you want for,
when you get it though
You probably gonna
want more.
I asked, “Are you dying?”
He said,
We all are,
We are only in it as long
as we can survive for
you could play a part of it
and live your life behind a lock door
either way you’ll probably be longing
for an encore
Are you dying?
We all are…
We all are…
we all are….
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:17 PM UTC
How did you ever get so awkward?
Were you born with your heart on the tip of your tongue
Or did someone force it there in some unseen undercover operation
Your eyes screamed River Styx swimming in fields of poppy petals
It smells like rainy fear and I want to hate you dear
I’ve been running in circles from you for so long
Stupidly hoping that if I pretend hard enough you’ll be around the corner
But your constructed out of tissue paper destined for the sun
I burned every bridge snipped all the ties
Time to rebuild, knot up and say goodbye
No matter what you’ll be three blocks ahead tripping over your smirk
Sailing away on a raft of pine needles and misplaced chances
I’d be lying to myself if I said I wouldn’t put out my eyes
Just too grab your hand and float away, sometimes
But I’ll stay here rooted to the spot holding forgotten dreams
Knitting an unforeseeable future out of rough starts
With a promise of a swift kick in the seat of your pants upon yesterday
“Did you know dumpsters hold more gold than all the banks in the world, you get to sift through all the treasures people couldn't bare too remember. And **** if that isn't an amazing prize”
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
A grain of sand on the beach, a puff of air in space.
Carried on the waves, drifting further out. Reaching.
Until the stars align in it's destination.
It's in orbit of what it travels so far to reach.
Carried by attraction, unknown that the smallest decimal-
Rewrites the whole system in unforeseeable ways.
Magic is real.
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 6:51 AM UTC