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
A strange calm on his face A faint recollection of past No urge to change anything No feeling to fight it all No emotions whatsoever Just an eternal calm Knowing that nothing matters Knowing what went wrong Knowing that he
I must be dreaming when you called my name, In sweet refrain to which nothing compares, It sounded like a call from Hall of Fame, Nay, none that I know of, in boastful airs; What joy, the lilting of one’s
The panther goes for the neck only. A body trembles on the stairs. Scarred bones are strewn around in the broad day light. I sometimes hear a wailing sound. Here lies the scarf, the coat, the shoes. A nation is
Gladioli stand in a tantric daze under siege of prism. The colors fall dangling, unsettling silent memories. I thought I was nervous while playing a smell game of wild guns, when tanks were rolling out on streets. A final farewell
We all seek something bigger than us Something strong our hearts can trust Greater than what we can understand So great our hearts could bend Something far from the usual Definitely not what our minds used to know But what
Who are forgivers? Forgiveness belongs to those with a big heart, people of a strong heart, and powerful in mind; ambassador of peace and jocund, those with heart of kindness and people with milk of benediction. Can you forgive? Yes!
Travelling with along, stout dark man In the burstling city thoroughfare Talking incessantly about immediate enjoyment Of unnatural genre was of good old days, When we found ourselves shopping Delusion in cramped dimly lit economic pub Where the roaring music
Linked arms, looking into the future, my daughters, In jim-jams, bought from Sunday markets, Off the Thame Road, and your beautiful young faces. This picture of a world I no longer have, imbued With all the scattered sadnesses of time,
Along the way to Washington, a red Indian is still holding in his hands his scalp and a quiver filled with stock exchange, while not comprehending why European prisoners carried old Athens on the ship of Columbus and settled at
A strand of pearls clung to slender tree limbs bejeweled woody flora prismatic orbs tell tale sign recent cloudburst cleft darkened heavens rained watery life source liquid downpour laced branched canopy awash with molecular droplets requisite to feed burlesque Vaudeville
To wail uncontrollably, to sob till it hurts, to beat myself till I go numb, and can’t feel the senses anymore. To lie naked on a bare floor, with no recollection of passing time, to be kicked again and again
“Am I Beautiful?” Queried a beautiful maiden! “Yes, indeed,” Replied her lover! “Is there no flaw in me?” She asked. “Not, one!” Assured her lover! “Not even one?” She asked again for reassurance. “No.” Repeated her lover! “Are you sure?”
You’re making eyes,while I make up my mind. Thinking of ways how I’d make you mine, You play that little game where you keep me guessing, You leave me wanting more so you’l keep on teasing, All i need is
The beauty of growth is a mystery in itself, natural and yet a product of faith faith not in the coming but in history, just as the nineth looks to the eighth. For what came before permits the eventuality of