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
My heart is starving, My lips are famished, My arms are cold, My strength is half of it. My mind races, My restless eyes close, My reasons to reason, Grow stale and fold. When you go I always pine, The
Her Love for Africa! A sun rises in the morning because a new day has begun, And in that day much is expected to achieve. From every field worked on, a harvest is expected. Likewise for each day we live
Oh procrastination How you’ll be the death of me You get worse and worse the closer I get to graduation I guess we’ll just have to wait and see If you get me put on academic probation After you arrived,
The pomegranate burst apart in a shower of purple-red spray and blunt red teeth disproving the chic appeal of white upholstery we cleaned the crime scene long hours on our knees soaking cloths with tart white vinegar and dabbing away
I have known you because of Time, and you leave me because of Time. Time wants me to forget you, but Time says ‘No’ because I do love you. Time gives me strength to endure the pain, and Time encourages
At dusk, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves on the trees in my front yard. Birds chirp as they settle in for the night. Clouds drift slowly across the sky. And a star twinkles from the galaxy. The Moon is
Sciences has opened our eyes on many fronts. We have learned much, but there is infinite knowledge to go. The Universe is larger than humans can possibly know. Our Universe as large as it is, is dwarfed in the Multiverse.
The war is not enough, The death is not enough Now someone maintain a silence Because they want some more death, And many of them want to live, But don’t forget, they want death, So many deaths! Is it mine?
A stick of match is needed to lit the fire An iota of ego is required to build up the jealousy Fire spreads the light jealousy spreads the hatred Fire generates warmth jealousy generates breach of peace Fire needed to
There is a small town in Texas state where time ambles by at a slower kind of pace. Known as the hill country by all who reside and bounded by a river, through Hays County side. Wimberley village is of
There is magic in rice cereals. They dance as baby- fish in boiling pan, and soon become snowy cool Delphinium. Boiled grains easily vanish in the mouth, a mug-full keeps you cool in summer. Roasted rice is fluffy and light,
Separated by months and eight thousand miles making love to you is an impossibility like painting a hangar with a pallet knife clearing four feet of snow with a soup spoon yet one day you arrive and we meet always
Dedicated to Chief Raoni of the Kayapo in the Amazon rainforest Is greed for money stronger than our signature? They wish to cut the trees to produce goods and furniture They will lose oxygen. This is a fact Chief Raoni
Only the love-birds will know it was time of inquisition. There was a lot of prodding in the neighbourhood. A voice without sound was resenting with guilt-virginity and the bell tolls for a zero hour. The entrusted trust was still
Why fight to always be number one in everything When life teaches us it is the smaller things of everyday that the most we are always missing Yet so many will fight to the death to conquer the most expensive
In a box with rusty padlocks in a corner of my head, Are the broken toys of a childhood, laid to rest in premature separation. Drowned emotions and strangled feelings, together dressed in black, Are shadows of an inquisitive soul
Dreams are the lofty, tall majestic mountains on which you can never climb, Dreams are the elusive mirages which always deceive you, Dreams are the seven colours of the rainbow which never colour you, Dreams are the silver glitterati of
After a grand design there was a white leap to find a boat in darkness. Time was dusting the frame of memory, and the age will grieve for the lost vision. The pace of assaults will increase over the burning
When you stand in the thrall of the waterfall Overwhelmed by its crashing power When your cheeks feel the sting of its icy caress And you don’t know the day or the hour When your ears and your tongue are