"unfulfilling" poems
Seeing people smile,
makes me wonder why
Why do do they smile when I do not?
Why are they happy when I am not?
Is something wrong with me?
There must be for I feel no glee
I am not happy nor am I sad
I feel nothing and it makes me mad
Sometimes I feel I have reached the feeling
Only to realize it's still unfulfilling
For years i have yearned
To find the answer I have now learned
An empty feeling, there would always lie
Inside my chest 'til the day I die
I would be happy and I would be sad,
Just not always and that isn't bad
Yearning for something unknown,
is a feeling that makes me groan
But it reminds me why I like to feel,
I feel so that living would seem real
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
My brother-in-law is the tightly wound sort.
Self contained in his miserable way.
Always quick with a quip or a nasty retort,
and, most likely, a miserable lay.
His job unfulfilling, his woman unwilling.
His co-workers thought he was gay.
He labored long hours for his indifferent masters
for infrequent raises in pay.
When he defenestrated his co worker Sally
and police asked me, what could I say?
" It's always the quiet ones
you have to watch out for-
I knew this would happen someday."
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 9:01 PM UTC
I could tell you more about the hurt
inflicted into us by what we thought was love
and to find it be an inevitable pain
followed by tears that flow off the face
and the guilt that maybe it was out fault.
we NEVER get the love we deserve,
manipulated and programmed the generational stigma
to love one more than yourself and unfulfilling
what we as the human race should've
been instilled with was self love.
too busy lost in the social media haze of
losing yourself into everything that we
forget to love ourselves
forgetting we have to do that before we
can truly love any one person.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 5:55 PM UTC
She wanders with a ponderance
of an unfulfilling existence .
It's like she missed the instance
when life was handing out
purpose. She became subverted
by her own thoughts.
Self-image contorted
like spaghetti noodles or dreadlocks.
The simplicity of existing has become brutal.
She keeps the gold within
vaulted like Fort Knox.
That protection is like an island
preventing her journey's beginning.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
I've drank a thousand beers
I've smoked a million cigarrettes
I've ate at least a hundred Twix bars
I've watched Breakfast at Tiffany's hours on end
I've flirted with every male waiter that brings me
unfulfilling dish after unfulfilling dish
I've bought weekly **** dark outfits
and I've spent my life savings
on beautiful MAC make-up and a new Legacy
and pumps I think you'd like
I've gotten my hair colored every color I can think of
I've tried being an apathetic punk, an upbeat cowgirl,
a wide-eyed polyanna, a harsh madonna, a fuck-you-feline,
an emotionally charged marilyn, and a classy Diane
I've memorized witty jokes, and roasts, and rivetting last lines
I've modeled and sang and became an athlete
I've played hard to get, I've played easy and teasy
And I've twirled my hair and crossed my legs
and learned to walk while swaying my hips
I've ran miles and kilometers and meters and
I've lifted weights and done zumba and yoga and hiked and biked and
****
There's no comfort and no getting to you.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 1:10 PM UTC
well then shepherd in the mess why does that sharpened cowl of wheat surround those sweet yams in the satchel, some scene of loosening transgressions, no pear ripening itself one dull, and one unfulfilling afternoon, rolls down over its branch of sister and brother father and mother Bartletts from the stem, only to make its way into the bottom of that stretched out tawny hide. Where by the wayside every other nobody can see straight inside when a hand moves in, sweeps its fist and then goes deeply down into that can of rotten novelties we all hate, but you feel keeps us in suspense. I wonder will it ever end? Bells busting from the insides of their guts, another candy shock, up and bounces, popcorn kernels, roasted almond slivers, and some preceding green vegetable posted on the 8th St. Diner marquee display on 9th, another advertisement fighting at the sore, devoured hunger for that silhouette following closely behind the moistened wells where my brush dabs lightly into the cup before the gouache and paint mixture begin to dry, that is where I wait and wonder why? Why? Pained with hunger but besmirched with fright, skin sweaty, knotted like muslin yards growing weak against the coil. So humbling were the groans that nearly a decade crossed swiftly across his face, only five or ten minutes had passed before another twenty years flowed into the vast matrix of the rivers of blue sweat marked by estuaries, creeks, and streams across the brow, down the cheeks, and ultimately across the neck, lazing down into the chest, before settling its heavy panic soaking in the guts. Where a heavy glass brick has been vitrifying in the sun, never have two people seen the steamy and piping-hot quarry go from its conviviality and festivity of life, into this shriveled up tree having found its way into the prairie where giant winds bend its branches and enormous thunderstorms nearly strangle it with its own roots. Frisked by sin and pangs of nostalgia in which a thousand thoughts intersplice the whorls imprinted upon our brains.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
Let me tell you something
I learned Lettin' Go
can be
a powerful show
Of Wisdom
I always had
this need
to see where each
song leads
Everything I
began...
lovers turned back
to man
I feared I'd miss
forever
I was A slave to
"together"
I became the most
Devoted
You just took love never
Showed it
though I didn't know it
But you showed me
A wise woman doesn't finish
every book
She knows unfulfilling by
second look
I knew
I know
you showed me
But I hoped If I closed
my eyes
Your words
Your words would
Come true
Passion a new
Ha! You sure showed me
wishing
Loving
Don't change people
I just never thought
You'd
take
"no"
away
from
me
too
But you sure showed me
and
Yet
still
I'm
stronger
Than
you
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
The Great Outdoors
Doors open every which way
and it's impossible to escape you
since you are behind everyone of them.
The overflowing cascade
that is your hair
the splendor of the sun at noon
that is your smile
and the ever present flawless work of art
that is your body.
The gorgeous landscape of your chest
needless to say how much I love the view.
The great outdoors lives
and breathes within you.
Let me take you indoors
so I could breathe you at dawn
take off the weight of all those weary kisses
and slowly nourish me in your lips.
Let me spend an eternity
attached to your hips.
Let our anatomies condense into one another
creating record setting heat.
Let me taste the warmth of your mouth
and feel the cold of your feet.
Your implacable thighs,
your indomitable abdomen
the pearls of your eyes,
your button nose and pillow cheeks.
The softness of your hands
as your fingers run all over me.
The flirtatious ways of your walk
inhaling your fresh essence in the air
with your aura by my side
knocking down the door to my lair
and awake from my self-imposed hibernation
to dedicate this loving prose in ode
to Mother Nature's greatest creation.
Like an impatient Great White
I can still sense your flesh when I can't see
devouring everything in sight
and this hunger towards you it leads
because my waters are yours
I can smell your thick blood
algae, seaweed or other life forms
are not nearly enough
to keep me from craving you
and fulfilling this unfulfilling love
to find a way to repress
what my flinching body has become
from the Savannah to the Sahara
I can't suffice this longing
night, afternoon or morning
for your great outdoors.
Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 3:49 PM UTC
It doesn't matter what I say; I'm never right - not to anybody except myself.
I am the only person who can justify just why exactly I choose to live my life the way I do.
People are ignorant, they don't understand.
Which is why I don't understand why I expect more from this world.
I'm a living testament to the power of contradictions.
Sometimes I wonder if I really believe what I think.
It doesn't matter what I do; I'm the only person that benefits from it. Selfishness?
I'm a prisoner to my thoughts and false perceptions of grandeur.
Is it reasonable to call them false if I'm the only person I know who doesn't think I'm mental?
Isn't this my life to do with which whatever it takes -I believe- to pursue happiness and satisfaction?
This is a blessing from God which should not be taken away, but this is the absurd contradiction of which we call "Life."
I seek purpose and reason in a meaningless world.
I see no point in trying to justify myself to anybody other than Him.
So why do I constantly strive for this? Are right and wrong (and morality for that matter), anything more than statues erected by man?
The life I live is defined by my own personal integrity and it is that which I believe I will be judged according to, and whether or not the path I've taken has been more beneficial to myself or destructive.
God does not see through eyes of morality.
My eyes have been opened and He has shown me the way.
Is this why I see life for what it really is, is that the reason why I am misunderstood?
People are too afraid to look for the doors to open their mind's eye when this world we live in commands them to be blind.
Who is anybody else to tell ME how I should go about living MY life - what I should do, to be a virtuous person or follow into somebody else's footsteps in hopes of acheieving transcendence?
Who am I to listen?
To be a zombie, never questioning the status-quo -
Is it worth fighting against the flow if there is something more on the side from which you've been floating away from?
I believe the answer is yes.
We are born into this world from true happiness - utter bliss.
Life is the river which carries us downstream, away from our nature.
Some may find what they believe they are looking for by not interrupting the flow.
But not me.
And I believe I will find what I am looking for in this journey I have chosen.
I will one day be reunited with that happiness of which I came from.
From playing both sides in this field of life, its safer for me to tell myself that I'm of completely sound mind.
Reality is the true artificial. Nothing even seems real anymore. Not people. Sincerity is dead.
I need to break free - but how can a flower blossom if it sinks deeper into the earth each day, away from the sun?
I cannot let this unfulfilling life consume me. I refuse to let it happen. But how do I escape?
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
Are you bored?
Do you feel there's no point to the things you do?
Is your life missing an element of excitement?
Fear not, I have just the thing
Put the Awe back in Awesome
Put the back Zing back in Amazing
Put the Fanta back into Fantastic
What? Fanta is great.
Anyway
It's rather simple.
The next time you have to do something you find boring, depressing, or unfulfilling, do it FOR SCIENCE!
Some examples:
I'll be out later, I have to do my English homework...FOR SCIENCE
I'm giving the big presentation tomorrow...FOR SCIENCE
I got into a car accident this morning...FOR SCIENCE
I don't feel so well, I need to use the crapper...FOR SCIENCE. I'll be in there awhile. For Science.
Someone tried to steal my purse, so I stabbed them...FOR SCIENCE
I guarantee that if you use this handy tip, your self esteem will rise, and people will find you exponentially more interesting!
Or they might think you're crazy
They definitely won't think you're boring, though.
So go out there and show the world what you're made of
For Science!
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 6:56 PM UTC
You say time moves too fast in your life
Well, that's because you're running the race
Missing everything you pass by
And only looking forward to the finish:
Your 401k and then your grave.
Time for you moves faster than the bullet train
That you ride every morning to your cubicle job
And every evening to your home that doesn't feel like home.
Busy bees always moving never stopping never pausing for a comma.
Living for the sweet honeyed relief of retirement or death
And never knowing that as you are living to die,
You are dying to live.
Repetition is your life and it moves really fast.
Day in, day out.
Day in, day out
metro, boulot, dodo
Train, job, sleep
And unfulfilling sleep at that.
You convince yourself that all these petty things that make up your life
That get you closer to your petty dream of riches and *******
Are actually worth something.
World problems don't bug you, you live in a world all on your own.
You glue your eyes to the pavement and walk with "purpose"
Long strides and arms swinging and making buzzy noises
As the sleeves of your suit rub against your sides
You can't let any time be wasted so you flood your day
With meetings and work, cigarettes and nights at the bar.
Stress is your best enemy and insomnia is a close friend.
Busy busy, buzz buzz
Moving, always moving.
So fast that death comes as a surprise
And you think
What the hell just happened?
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
We are thousand miles away.
Still I say,'stay away'.
People meet either because they are meant to be isolated or to be in their life forever.
We know we want each other,knowing that it won't happen.
Are you here to lessen my soreness and increase my my sprits. Let me tell you dear,I am in love and relationship with lugubrious. I am the most propitious and wealthiest person because I had had ever you in my lifetime, a cache.
What are we meant for?
For schism or forever?
When we are meant for nix,then let us not give each other unfulfilling expectations.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:25 AM UTC
There's a room somewhere,
locked fast behind an unassuming door
looming grey-brown at the end of a
misshapen corridor.
Inside, the relics of a time lost in time
to time.
A mitt, engraved with the counterfeit signature
of a ballplayer whose name once rang a bell,
smelling of adolescent sweat,
still dusted with sandlot crumbs,
a reminder of those ground *****
that sped by too fast to field,
those fly ***** just out of reach,
suspended in a June twilight
lost to time.
Ribbons and awards and certificates,
signed by leaders of puny regimes
paved and repaved over,
proof of a world before this,
an era of (now) perceived achievement,
legitimized, glorified by Old English type
printed on recyclable stock paper.
Ticket stubs from blockbuster flops,
receipts of a linear plotline:
Drama, comedy, a budding romance -
Temporarily amusing on such a spacious screen
but ultimately unfulfilling;
the plot peters towards the end.
Lost in time the boy cries out
with no one left to answer but the man
who, as quietly as he entered it,
exits the room,
as always, leaving the door just ajar,
enough to muffle the shrieks of a little boy
chasing an invisible horizon.
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 8:46 PM UTC
From last night's wine
From the bruiser of a woman
Who challenged me
With insecurities so well-packed away
That she actually thinks she is in control!!!!!!
From the unfulfilling patience
Of an unfulfilled love
Of an absent lover
I'm so tired I accidentally left my dog locked outside all day.
(Good thing he's so good-natured.)
I can stand to learn from his forgiving nature.
I think I'll go now.
I have some grumbling to do.
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
Only Juliet drinks poison
Only Juliet likes to fall asleep
Last weekend,
Traded my bed for a coffin
Stuck both our hearts in the oven
We can fry together in heaven,
Pray to God your soul to keep,
I don’t want it following me.
Cause,
I haven’t been sleeping
I’m weak and defeated
A point of exhaustion
So lost that I can’t even think
I relied on you often
I’m starting to see
You come through the darkness
In the form of a banshee
Walk away would be progress
I’m just not really there yet
Sick of feeling like garbage
Chewed up gum; stuck under your feet
Am I some type of rodent?
That you could step over?
A slab off the meek
Who breaks his back for your cheese?
Condemn me a burden.
This just isn’t worth it
We’re not picture perfect?
If you put down those matches
Then this fire would stop burning
But You’ll always be thirsty
I’ll always be hungry
You’re out their flirting
I’m home doing nothing.
Unfulfilling the filth on the streets
The detergents’ not working
You’ll always be *****
No I won’t help you clean.
God’s gift to the earth
That thought is disturbing
A hearts that’s discerning
The curse of the free.
Stay strong in my searching
The light is approaching
Keep moving forward
We’re permanently,
Finally over,
Juliet R.I.P.
Only Juliet drinks poison
Only Juliet likes to fall asleep
Dug her grave, had black emotions
Pray to God her soul to keep,
Sent her back to this earth,
Now I’m cursed,
I have Juliet’s ghost—following me.
Only in my dreams, why I never sleep
Finally Over, Juliet R.I.P.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
As heat transfers
You're body to body
And skin to skin
Cold hard hearts
Another night
Another girl
The way you live.
U n a t t a c h e d
The love without love
You find unfulfilling fulfillment.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
i have long since desired to "be somebody", for i already am.
sometimes confidence escapes me, as if it were carbon dioxide.
positive prompting enforced by words from a friend down the street, or across the country may be what keeps us all going
when the coldness of doubt creates hesitant characteristics.
as i get lost in thoughts, i want to guarantee that i am not alone.
but a guarantee might just be an unfulfilling word in this false advertising world.
an outside perspective is often necessary, even when isolation can give the impression of trumping solidarity.
After all my decisions are the one and only true responsibility
learning to have have faith, and performing my actions with assertive behavior is indeed something i need to work on.
Jan 31, 2010
Jan 31, 2010 at 9:44 AM UTC
The countless nights of being taken ever so uncomfortably,
fogging up the windows drawing cheesy arrows
stuck through hearts with our initials
in the condensation of our ****** tension.
Unfulfilling menaje tois cuts right through any arrowed hearts.
Sat dripping blood and juice,
"Don't get it on the fabrics...I'll come back with a towel."
You said.
I sat there
in too deep.
Staring at the bag of thrift shop,
sports flags,
my blood dripping from my fingers
to my thighs,
in your backseat.
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
a man cloaked in dust bitten rays skip down the rude lit hall
as a voice calls to him run your fitful bow across my cracked
teacup mouth and draw forth a loosed leaf smile at first
i dismiss it as contrived twaddle one might hear in settings
where silk roses bloom on synthetic counter islands or
a cloth lily wrecks on its maiden voyage mid-way through
a copper sink’s bounded blue but cigarette tip joy burns
peep holes into my cottony resistance it’s a compact thrill
as dense as the peach pit my tooth struck to chip that once
such piquant frissons dissipate into damply aromatic trickles
when the man replies with a tartly rolled lavender bud ready
to burst its pink i’ve the heart of a wobbly kneed boy about
to pull back the tulle cloud on an auburn morn’s feathery
bathers petaled girdle strewn on the slippery rock path
leads up to her dewy lap where luminescent splayed fingers
lay printed hymns when ash trimmed logs fall from his fatty
lips i take the house sparrow’s hasty cue to flap a skyward
exit out from the bony white glow of his unfulfilling promises
Aug 23, 2010
Aug 23, 2010 at 8:54 AM UTC
“When was the last time you cried”, you asked.
How many tears did you lose? How fast did they race down your face?
Were there tears at all, or did you hold them back like you were trying to break up a fight
What is the point of tears?
To water down you’re feelings on the inside?
To drown your unpleasant, unattractive, unfulfilling frown?
The one that sits at the bottom of your face.
Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?
Buried your face in your pillow, listening to your muffled voice sink into the feathers.
But somehow it helps.
This wet, loud, chaotic, unstable mess of a moment helps?
I don’t know why… but it does.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 5:52 AM UTC
I am her chauffeur,
I take her here and there,
We spend a lot of time together,
You could even say we’re friends.
My job is to take her places,
I know where she is and where she needs to be,
I never know why though,
I never see her outside of my car.
I have only seen her reflection,
She has only seen the back of my head,
I wonder if she even looks at me,
I wonder how tall she is.
She has a lover,
She talks about him all the time,
I know a lot about him,
Maybe even more than I do about her.
I like to hear her speak,
Sometimes I drive slower so she doesn’t stop,
I can only see her lips move,
I can only imagine how beautiful her eyes are.
She sits in the backseat,
I’d tell her to sit in the front,
but then she’d think I’m odd,
Why do I have to be so insecure.
She is the highlight of my day,
Her words never leave my mind,
All my thoughts are of her,
It is turning into an obsession,
She doesn’t know it,
But I love her,
More than that piece of meat she calls her lover,
More than anyone ever will.
She doesn’t know who I am,
She hasn’t even seen my face,
I only know her by her words,
Yet it feels like fate.
Through the rear view mirror I see,
A past that I had only dreamt of,
A future that will never be,
A secret and unfulfilling love.
I am her chauffeur,
And I am in love with her.
Pt. 2
She chooses the radio station we listen to,
I keep it on even when she's not in the car,
I learn all the lyrics to her favorite songs,
I'll sing them to her some day.
Today I took her to the park,
Tomorrow I'll do the same,
Only she'll ask me to come down with her,
And things will be different.
We'll have a picnic in the sun,
I'll set the blanket while she holds the basket,
She'll laugh at my jokes,
I'll watch her smile.
One day I'll tell her how I feel,
Her love for me will be just as real,
As mine for her has always been,
And things will be different.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 4:44 AM UTC
Your words once intoxicated me
I inhaled deeply, against my better judgement
And allowed you to engulf me,
both my heart and my psyche
I ignored the lies
And reveled in the ignorance
Until the inevitable day came
When truth dawned on me like a blinding light
And obliterated every lie in it's white hot truth
I'm still in denial,
Not anymore about you
But about everything
The fact is that I'm an addict
to numbing myself
Because I can't face life's harsh realities
So I just keep running
Into oblivion
I shoot myself up with vices
Blindly wasting time on devices
And all sorts of unfulfilling endeavors
And so my double-mindedness persists
My my pain echoes loudly between my ears, and my gratitude is running low
But there is a deep inner knowing within me
that tells me, ever so softly
"Violet, you have to grow"
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 3:47 PM UTC
"Have a Nice Day"
Is just a general expression
For having a day
What do you get when you put
Thirty years of "nice days" together?
You get a "nice life"
A life without
Challenges
An unfulfilling life
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
******* in the dark because you could be anyone.
I could be anyone. Two anonymous animorphs moving
in a twisted pile of lithe limbs and hot breathe. You are the
Marquis de Sade. I am Madonna on the rocks.
You are Gaia, I am Nikola Tesla. Our touch static. Ecstatic.
Ecstatic addicts acting frantic in the deep sheets of each other's
heat. Noiseless poise-less loyal-less coils; hot&high; and never
flickering only f u c k i n g f u c k i n g feeling love and hate
and other things you can only feel when someone else is inside of
you. Thrilling angry unfulfilling like killing things that don't
want to die. Our *** like ************ because
in the dark you could be anyone.
I could be anyone.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
i don't understand my love for you
sometimes i love you as a bee does honey
but other times i love you as if I am fire and you are a huge tide destined to put me out
sometimes my love for you is pure, all i wish for is you to be happy
and other times my love for you is full of hate and anger
sometimes i hate you more than i love you
and in a matter of seconds, I love you more than I've loved anything else
my love for you is chaos, toxic, and unfulfilling
our love is bound to end in bright red, orange, and blue flames that will consume every bit of us
but until the end, my love for you will burn
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 7:02 PM UTC