Boredom Is Death's Luxury
BOREDOM IS DEATH'S LUXURY
Boredom is Death's Luxury,
The idle wasting of an idle life.
What Chance do we have to dream
When inside all is
Empty and Ended
Lost?
Oh we will begin again somehow, somewhere else.
But today now inside
Is only this Nowhereness
This Endless Stillness
This Nothingness.
Boredom is the Horror of Everyday Life
I feel this now so deeply
as I write this.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Related quotes
War is Boredom
War is Boredom
War is Boredom
War can be defined as long periods of boredom, short burst of terror, seemingly lasting forever, To those who are there, Waiting for another outburst, which never seems to cease.
You Pray, you count all your blessings, the outgoing not what you fear, its the incoming that can't be trusted.
War can be defined as boredom, for those who's life was spared, as the days in between that matters, on those who life spent there.
2008
poem by Charles Garcia
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In Memory Of The Unknown Poet, Robert Boardman Vaughn
But the essential advantage for a poet is not, to have a beautiful world with which to deal: it is to be able to see beneath both beauty and ugliness; to see the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
T. S. ELIOT
It was his story. It would always be his story.
It followed him; it overtook him finally—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
Probably at the end he was not yet sorry,
Even as the boots were brutalizing him in the alley.
It was his story. It would always be his story,
Blown on a blue horn, full of sound and fury,
But signifying, O signifying magnificently
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
I picture the snow as falling without hurry
To cover the cobbles and the toppled ashcans completely.
It was his story. It would always be his story.
Lately he had wandered between St. Mark’s Place and the Bowery,
Already half a spirit, mumbling and muttering sadly.
O the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
All done now. But I remember the fiery
Hypnotic eye and the raised voice blazing with poetry.
It was his story and would always be his story—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
poem by Donald Justice
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Grandma, I Never Knew You
I never knew you
You are my grandmother.
I get mad at God
For not giving me a chance
To know you.
You died ten years
Before I was born.
It breaks my heart
Every time I think
That I will never get
The chance to know you.
I look at your picture that hangs
Almost everyday.
I wonder if I have your eyes.
I wonder if I have your laugh.
I wonder if I have your smile.
I wonder if I have your nose.
I wonder if I have anything of you.
I guess I will never know
I guess I will never get to see you.
Death is the most tragic thing in life
Death is hard on me now than I was younger.
Death is what I have inside
Thinking of everyone that I have lost.
Death is forever
Death is longer than an eternity
Death is permanent
Death is a scar that never goes away.
Death is what I feel everyday
Death is what has to be.
Death is what is happening everyday.
Death is what no one knows for sure.
Death is what everyone goes through.
Death is the reason why I am the way I am
Death is what I fear…
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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Lonely:
Lonely,
So, so lonely,
I feel like that flower I seen today,
It was in a yard surrounded by nothing but weeds and grass, none of his flower friends were out with him swaying along with him in the breeze,
So he was swaying all alone in the breeze.
Lonely,
Lonely,
So, so lonely,
Along with the loneliness, comes along boredom,
To make me feel even worse,
Great!
Fabulous!
My boredom is growing old,
So, so old,
I am about to scream,
So as not to be board anymore,
Who is with me?
On this road of pure boredom?
poem by Sherry Painter
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The life of the creative man is lead, directed and controlled by boredom. Avoiding boredom is one of our most important purposes.
quote by Susan Sontag
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between The Thin Line
He was a bright, happy, smart kid to begin with
who always kept to himself by the dried lake
playing with the rainbows and butterflies
messing with the true colours of the world
So one gloomy Sunday boredom went to see him
to let the kid taste how bitter the reality really is!
but unexpectedly, the boy kicked the boredom in its ribs
and the boredom laughed so hard that its teeth fell off…
The good thing is after that day the boy learned one thing
he learned that boredom is a one ticklish son of a bitch!
so of course he, the boy kept doing what he loved doing
without giving a rats-arse about the rest of the god forsaken,
cruel, rat-trap of a world which he knew was surely out there
He yelled his lungs off at the empty, cloudless skies
jumped as far as the moon and breathed some fresh air,
swam through the seven oceans, walked a thousand miles,
flew over the skyscrapers and winked at the cute girls
who stood open mouthed, staring at him, behind windows
and rode the lightning across the tallest mountains
and so finally when the moments stood up on him
he simply refused to lose to the jumbled mess of confusion
which each and everyone out there refered to as life.
poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
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The Long Afternoon Became Longer
THE LONG AFTERNOON BECAME LONGER
The long afternoon became longer-
Time had no end and boredom also-
We all know it will eventually pass
But in the middle we are marooned waiting
Without any idea whatsoever of what to do-
I write these lines because I know
Boredom too has its beauty-
And waiting for nothing also its dream-
And out of nowhere there may come
Long into the long afternoon
Far after all the work is done and nothing remains
While waiting is still going on
A small poem to break the monotony
And give meaning back to life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Only the most acute and active animals are capable of boredom. - A theme for a great poet would be God's boredom on the seventh day of creation.
quote by Lewis Cass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flowers In Your Garden
you are telling me that the flowers in your garden
must not be of one and the same kind
or else there will be so much boredom
you are telling me the need of variety:
roses and jasmines
and suntans and daisies, colors and scents all in multiplicity
as you talk your eyelashes curve a little lower than i expected
and your mouth twitches a little bit just to show your dislike
and contempt of the word:
boredom
unnecessary uniformity, that human need of variety
equated with a taste for something new
and even unusual
i completely agree with you.
Let me take you inside my heart
where my garden lies:
flowers of different colors and scents
i have grown them all inside my heart,
feelings of love and
desire, in a variety or sorts
in a diversification of breeds
and if by now you ask me and demand
that i may tell the truth
inside my heart, in my garden of love, you are a very beautiful flower
so sweet scented and well loved and cared by me
but there are other beautiful flowers growing in there,
you are not
just the one and only, as you would like to think
that to be
and i will tell you again,
I agree with you, there is a need really
for a variety,
the one that removes the word
boredom
from the beautiful garden of our vocabulary.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bloody Luxury
(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.
quote by Aldous Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost To Find My Lot
Lost in a world, that scares me to death,
Lost in a crowd I’m losing my breath,
Lost as a kid, lost as an adult
I feel everything is falling apart and its my fault
Lost as a person, cant find my way
Lost in life every day, Lost in worry
Who am I?
I’ve lived a Lie
Lost to Kindness,
Lost to Love
Lost in the sky,
Like a lonely dove
Lost in thought which I shouldn’t do
It Winds me up,
I can’t get through
Lost to comfort all kind words
Lost to advice that isn’t heard
Lost to those who really care?
All these people always there
Lost in Me, I need a break
Lost in wonder which road should I take?
Lost in a place I don’t know well
Where are you now? There’s no one to tell
Lost here all alone To break these walls
Lost in mind
Lost in soul
Lost memories, there just a hole
Lost family, lost my place
Still yet I’m full of hate
Lost in boredom think I’ll leave
There’s a lot in life I need to achieve
poem by Olivia Braun
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I Am A Cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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BOREDOM in retrospective shades
It mostly rained mid afternoon
Pressed against the window
Dark dreary
Feeling nothing
Listless sad damp saturdays
Curtained off from the day
And sunless
Full of football league results
And muttered conversations over steaming tea
Football saturdays full of rain and nothing
With winter pressing in like night
Midday and waiting
For the boredom to sink in!
The hot cat slinks in
Lazy in summer pose
Limbs stretched over half read papers
Leaving pawprints across the broad sheet in repose
Forgotten bodies lie abandoned on the lawn
Waiting for post mortem
All thoughts of tomorrow suspended
The ice cream thawing slowly the thermostat is blown
Who wants to know about the weather?
There in the graveyard for the idle
Birds have nested made their home
Boredom
Belongs to the masses
The dissatisfied 'writer'
Of romances
And pulp ficition
The lottery winner who has it all?
[and ponders nothing]
To the factory and office worker
The bodies moving between
Shifts of day and night
To the old and lonely
But never to the child?
The cat is curious
The dog indifferent
The mouse is sly
And boredom comes to us all
Don't ask me why?
So many catch the train
So many rush on buses
Complain in queues
Push for seats
disconnect the senses
To the ipod and the phone
Leave their thoughts
of love and life behind
But take their boredom home!
yvette m smith poet of uk
july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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You cannot spend money in luxury without doing good to the poor. Nay, you do more good to them by spending it in luxury, than by giving it; for by spending it in luxury, you make them exert industry, whereas by giving it, you keep them idle.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Oh Life
life oh life
what rest is there that you can give?
you have been dancing
and hip hopping and wriggling
and jumping
and running randomly to
any possible direction
life oh life
tell me what is in store for me out there?
is there no other island of desire?
is there no other haven for love?
life oh life
tell me, boredom like termites are eating
each wood of my house
each bone of my body
each nerve
tell me, life,
where do we go from here? shall death be an answer?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Feeling I Have
Sadness is like being lost
Happiness is like nothing can go wrong
Music is like a summer day
Paris Hilton is an old forgotten dog
Excitement is overrated happiness
Boredom is what i feel everyday
Depression can be like a reflection of my life
Joy is a rare feeling i get when i feel loved
Pain is the hurt and sorrow you put me through
Misery is like having no one to stand beside you
poem by Taylor Dumm
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Satan Is Overrated
Earth is a looking glass that allows the Universe to see itself.
Satan has convinced you that higher realms are better than Earth. He does not tell you that boredom is your only sin and death merely your last breath.
Revel in the little deaths of your ecstasies for all life spawns from death.
Heed not his serpentine tongue…
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Since boredom advances and boredom is the root of all evil, no wonder, then, that the world goes backwards, that evil spreads. This can be traced back to the very beginning of the world. The gods were bored; therefore they created human beings.
quote by Soren Kierkegaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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