Futility poems bring the best collection of short and long futility poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great futility rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these futility poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on futility are here for you.
Death; The Dealer of the final deck of life. No hidden agendas, just a cold slate to wipe. With hand and sword or with rock and stone, with shaft sailing deadly through grey skies, alone. The smarter the weapon, the
Trying to follow truth his journey was nightmarish. Alchemic fusion with past and future failed – his bowl was still empty. In the inner space a largesse, free of present, becomes the pain of perfection! Now what to do next?
Self imposed sabbatical is nearly coming to end Time stood as witness all along as true friend Trials it has withstood tribulations too of sort Few were as expected some awfully fell short It needs introspecting to re jig and
She exists in the body, a visual myth Materializing out of stone A solitary figure carefully etched Into the mind’s eye, breathing Brooding, testing the air for its secrets Tasting the wind for things to come She is to my
Black and white Like the colour of the colobus in Colorado Make me of Black Magic think. Witches that bring about white things. Black and white How can black ever rule the white? When even the darkness vamoose From the
Gingerbread, Jellybean and KitKat with tiny sims, Safely secured in everyone’s pocket like magical plastics ; We carelessly treasure these gags, As if we could preserve them; For an entire life it seems. Our helpless youth’s every moment, Is glued
From chronic sort tedium must rise above to explore Life beyond old drudgery since long not felt before While in indulgent misery the core had twisted askew Time to rid of past clutter to rewrite lost verve anew Dump affecting
The wind writes a name on the clouds and sun wipes out the letters. This game continues daily. coming into life after every death. Exhausted I want to believe and make up my mind to go for a new birth.
A look to behold A passion to fulfill A life to live An obligation to creed love, loss and the futility of it all… Buckle up still, while you can meandering valley of sorrowful loath sunrise of purpose and lost
A twisted journey starts on wings after the end of the road. Ambition sits in corner, nonchalantly and a tempest hollers around the spires. Broken down from parched ceiling a mural turns into a mundane knife. Lifts the rage, of
I have lost myself in some dark corner A corner with unknown path Buried in some sepulchre Such is the grief within The mind revolts to think The heart is numbed with anguish Pain is my best partner Such is
Problems Belong to A huge, Closely-knit Family! When Problems come, They come With all their Relatives And distant relatives In tow! So, If you are Inviting problems, Be prepared for A huge guest list And a long stay!
your voice across the wire says ‘a new situation’s developed while you’ve been away…’ when we first made love you wrote poems about crocuses, spring and new beginnings now autumn’s come so hard your voice across the wire says ‘a
That roasting night when honeyed moon hung high weaving a humming sound I spoke to clouds. It happens every night, when smoke rises to discover the pain of a falling star. I start making a god from earth and water.
I walk past the old football field, empty, no gladiators, no cheering crowds. PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM WAY BACK! Just echoes of the games once played. Just memories of those standing, watching the turmoil on the
“I do!” I really do! We decided to be together All I want is you and me up until the end Promise that I’ll be faithfully sweet. Bitterness in life, we’ll surpass it my dear. Misfortunes do come! I’m not
Got struck on the spiky gate a half-eaten deer shattering the panther. Daggers were drawn. Terrier was in the glass house. Canine discretion to draw the blood between friends. A crisp murder of a terrorist. spotted face of the relentless
a white sheet covered the semi-permafrost, steam formed a carpet over the delicate car windows, the blue curtain in the sky, splattered with white bleach stains, the best kind, the wanted kind, as your name was dragged from the heavens
When the head begin to reel under the burning sun When the tongue gets dried up in the scorching sun When the body spills sweat like floods due to heat of the Sun When the life become unbearable by the
Another evening with hues of red merging into blue, blue morphing into grey, Grey turning black marred with tiny specks of silver I sit and watch this metamorphosis my eyes lusting for a streak of silver; a falling star –
Love is a powerful thirst, The basic chemistry, Promoting feelings Of a survival instinct. It has many guises, With emotional variations, Intimacy of passion, In a deep bond. Often one-sided commitment, Always arriving unbidden, Without passion, a mere dedication, That
Moon-scented I walk in dark to put me back in place, unwithered, opening the inner casket for a glow. Pleading not guilty after killings in bed, of affectionate kill of lies, a black widow romps around with a flag of
Surely this is not just that– Brat of imagination Running amok?! I thought I saw a man Cajoling, indulging, Planting plans in my head! Then he disappeared In grey ashes and smoke Left-over embers of silence! Only me talking to
While my ten fingers are busy forming the letters into words, A thousand thoughts forming in my mind as it creates something to accord. A tons of things to ponder and wonder, A lot of imaginations to expand and discover.
Past, past and gone past Do they ever anything cast? They do. They mould. They shape, they truly cast The actions of present And advent future To be or not to be To abide or glide. Comers will be coming
No more. Can’t take no more. Struggle with sanity is draining me dry with each passing day. People pride themselves in pruning their puritanical egos to ‘adhere’ and ‘belong’. Should I too? Because i ain’t me no more. Do I
With gray wolves around, he put the gun on the chin and pulled the trigger. The crowded nest and tainted gemones: the double helix had the sex crumbling: consensual hate. Some beasts and hairy saints were turning the world black,
Right on top, you were inching slowly. United in hate they were tracking you. Trespassing the epochs you want to go back in stone age to retrace the steps of a homeless sapiens. In the brown desert of high hunches