Best Inevitability Poems
Open your eyes and embrace the light
Filling yourself with a vibrant strain.
The cold dawn cometh—dissipating the night
Into shredded segments with nothing gained.
Emerging from a cave feeling half-crazed.
That damning evidence in the cold light of the day
Gripping with something you cannot embrace
Some new inhibition has gotten in the way.
And the horror is that this day has arrived
As surely as tomorrow morning shall follow
Tonight regardless of how you try to deny
The truth that you can’t stand to swallow
Today you may die. It is said with such certainty.
But the real fear is that you may live an eternity.
Old Bones
Now listen while I tell you of a fella that you’ll meet,
Who is older still than even time could be.
His grin is kinda big and kinda straight and kinda white -
Kinda threatening – a mite unsavoury.
When it comes your time to meet him, it’ll only be the once ;
You will never ever get another chance.
He will meet you sorta quickly and there won’t be time to chat -
He’ll go by and won't give you a second glance.
He meets everyone eventually, no matter how they dodge.
There just ain't no evading that old grin.
Prince or pauper, nice or nasty, makes no difference anyhow,
Be you virtuous or live a life of sin.
So if one day you see him and you think his timing's out,
Don't kick up a fuss or sing a sorry song.
It’s a fact that when your time’s up he'll come beckoning to you:
Old Bones is never even slightly wrong.
Something happens when we accept our own defeat
There's confusion and silence ego trip wakens from sleep
Without knowing we abandon our plan to continue
Justifiably argued grandiose our opinions
Even though there's a part clinging on to the truth
Snuffed with malice deniably wrapped in reproof
We ignore it in spite of the honesty seethed
Bringing shame to toughest of men to their knees
I would offer solutions garner values and proofs
But Noone cares about honor and conviction, they lose
Genuinely said I just wish I could help
Even if I'm rebuked I will forgive you for myself
Funny isn't it? One day we will all be dead
And therefore I can die knowing there was nothing left unsaid....
Everything stays the same,
Except the things that matter.
We spend our brief eternity grazing on fields of torment. Blindly ingesting sickly green fodder, full of empty calories and shallow perceptions. Our words hold no weight. The sounds we make to shape a thought in a mind malnourished. Meaningless.
Futility bears our existence to the sharpened blades of men too big to bleed. While piercing screams reach dead ears and anguish buries flesh deep under dark damp earth still moist from blood and rain.
Children's limbs litter shopping malls while bombs carry silent nights. Spiritual healing at the end of an ak. The days fade away and we dance en masse to the tune of lunacy. Behind thinly veiled blue skies the fires rage and death awaits us all.
Inevitability looms like the imminent sunset
Beyond an unchanging bleak western horizon,
Oft illustrated by those “death and taxes”
More certain than next blood moon a’risin’.
The lottery of life assures the loss of coin
Before the aligning symbols outpour a lode
Of silver and gold, or fortune unannounced
Unexpected knocks at the door of one’s abode.
Beware the clutches of boasting entitlement
Convincing empty promises too soon delude
The mind, seem worthy guides to long life,
Deny reality’s inevitable poisonous elixirs brewed.
Ah, the charms thus fervently sought do fade
Life is not so enriching as one may have thought
Seeking more, when one has, is never enough,
And what is inevitable surely cannot be bought.
Written on January 22, 2021
Second Stanza entered in "Brevity" Contest on All Poetry
SILVER MEDAL WINNER
Inevitability
David J Walker
This is how I turned 20
With plenty of time left to
Opine its wastings awaiting
The sun to set
The weekend to come
Christmas
Birthdays
Summer vacations that
Race past the calendars edge
This is how I turned 30
Looking over a shoulder
To see who is catching up
Who is making up
For past mistakes and
Begging for retakes for the many
Wasted opportunities
This is how I turned 40
Feeling the changes
To my body and
The beliefs scattered over
The spectrum of
What is or
Is not to come
This is how I turned 50
Bracing for mortalities
Callings
Hoping that believing
May facilitate the stalling
Of recompense
On the final tabulation
To come and, oh
Tipping is encouraged
This is how I turned 60
In quiet contemplations
reflections
Concerning the reality of or
The days of coruscate refraction
that belong only to me
Is this how I will turn 70
in the insouciance
of what will be
is the outcome inevitably
predictable
Neurosis imposes osteoporosis through Ouroboros like locusts
Focus is broken so just blitz like Germans in Poland
Anxiety lies to me and starts fighting me in 451 degrees
Mind exploding like Boeing 747 Max's with 157 casualties
Survival is a trial to lift my kind
Wallpaper's yellow, might be more mellow if you play the cello
Dog's not yellow, might go mental if I use this pencil
Friends got Orwellian messages or their Machiavellians
Adrenaline from conversation with close ones is my situation
But I might have lied and blighted their mind and life
Haitian earthquake or hurricane on lunch break on Sunday
Someday I will have graffiti on my frame of shame
but why be pessimistic or mystic when there's optimistic
Everyone'll listen but'll flip it and'll miss it
optimism is a trick but pessimism is acidic
My cerebrum's still noxious, filled with toxins
filled with acid and plastic that saran wraps victims
I'll always be Rambo and go all Van Gogh
But in the Kola Borehole, I'm vulnerable
The great filter awaits to kill the big
Schizophrenic or angelic, a soldier or murderer or Belic
Felon making ends for a family of ten is Satanic
But sit back, don't worry, relax with hats off
To Kraków we're off, coming back we're not
Life is sweeter when you're ignorant
At least until you get into it
I walk these city streets alone,
all day searching, I am a drone
The rats drive by in their cars
Wheels spinning fast
they know not where they go, only that they are late, out of time,
As we all....
The sounds of my city
the symphony of melancholy
the concerto of terrible happiness
the irony of it all,
And time ticks on...
I walk to absorb, what others cannot see
To hear the laughter, and the cries
The babies dying and the elderly living on
I go unnoticed about my quest
Spying on the lives, as the clock counts down...
Inevitability is what this way has come.....
andreatravis
copyright10-30-12
ANDREATRAVIS
Inevitability
There’s nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
When the ghost of that figure stands by your side
Too late for repentance that time it has past
The last grain of sand has dropped in the glass
The time it is written there is no escape
From the skeletal figure in the long black cape
The clock has stopped ticking its time now to go
And the ghost he will take you, you cannot no
Begging won’t stop it there’s no turning back
Cos every road taken leads down to this track
The time it is written there is no escape
From the skeletal figure in the long black cape
Like a wave on the ocean or the rising of the sun
It’s certain the ghost one day he will come
The poor man the rich man unknown or fame
The candles’ last flicker will extinguish the flame
The time it is written there is no escape
From the skeletal figure in the long black cape
The flies were always there,
Their buzzing amplifying
The silence. Their wings beat thunder
As they formed a grey mass there
Where they will always be.
You walk,
step after step,
through choices carved into dust,
through silence heavy with answers
you are not ready to hear.
You do not know where the road leads,
only that it calls,
only that turning back is not the same as stopping.
But somewhere ahead,
beyond the fog of doubt,
past the echoes of what could have been,
there is a version of you waiting—
The one who has seen the ending.
The one who knows where this road goes.
The one who has walked every step
you are still afraid to take.
Will they welcome you?
Will they tell you to keep going?
Or will they ask—
"What took you so long?"
I always feel the
stiff breeze in my heart.
The rumbling ,rolling thunder
growls in the overcast, vast,
inky sky.
The lily is asphyxiated
by an utter,
excruciating agony,
it murmurs things
unsaid.
It fills with pure,
deeep-rooted fears,
the verdict is unknown.
Raindrops water my soul
like an endless
angst weaves into the
unobtrusive path.
What is this?
Abstract, uncertain and elusive
Myriad colors drowned
In inevitability, fallibility and vulnerability
Soaked in joy's' unavailability
To many parched and thirsty souls
Playful creatures come and go
They laugh and weep
Over the rule of resolve unseen
Who is the master,
Where is he or she, and why?
Many tried to search but failed
Ages have passed
But the mystery continues
Beyond thought and imagination
The world bows before the unknown
And pays the spineless obeisance
Like the time and space do
Destiny rules disguised
Many tried to lift the veil
To see its face, but to no avail
Eternity is impervious
The mystery continues
Knowledge and wisdom fail
Oasis in the desert
Like faint smile in the ocean of sorrow
The moments often bring solace
But the life is much beyond
Cruel time returns unabated
Rejuvenating the grief
If at all the nature's fiat was different
Life could be joy and joy alone
One understands, but that is not all
Reason does not prevail
Craving continues
And the inability takes over.
Inevitability of death
motivates me more than ever
to fulfill all dreams of mine;
make good use of my time,
to capture the world,
to rule my days
before I
leave this
earth.
Date written and posted: 12/13/2018