Nature Of The Beast

I've done my job

running the rat-race

shunning the sun

perpetual clock-watching

nightmares of screaming alarms

Shortened sleep disturbed by tomorrows

of half-shadow mornings

ageing the skin and ringing the eyes

of a time-stamped existence

scheduled-in and filing-out

Impaled to a desk

or chained to hard labour

shackled by the norm

shepherded by the masses

gathering with the swarm

of busy bees buzzing

their hive of timidity

with its guidelines and rules

for the pen-pushers, pay-loaders

and the cloth-cutting bankers

Its merits and rewards

are special green leaves

that should grow on trees.

The percentage is against you

and a bigger slice of pie

is taken than given

You have the carcass

that the vultures have left

Then it's back home for tea

to eat what you buy

then collapse in a chair

in front of a screen.

Three-quarters of existence

to earn your rest

and in most of what's left

you must sleep to recover

or blow-out your health

in brief moments of pleasure

desperate excitement of slackened-off valves

a steam-release for your mettle fatigue

and a taste of what freedom is like.

For this is "real life" and you must concentrate

You cannot be tired and you cannot be late

or you might lose your place

in the long queue for money

You're nothing without it

no status or possessions

no fun or vacations

for it all has a price-tag

How precious and priceless is life.

And now it's all over

I'm excused of the tread-mill

That was the pay-off for giving my life

Twilight years they gave me in trust

turning to dust as I tick through old-age

along with the clock that sits on the mantle

but I cannot get used to this empty space

of meaningless time and too much to waste

I wake up at dawn

with the same old purpose

It's hard to do nothing

It's tiring to be aimless

I've forgotten the things I planned me to do

The fire has been spent in its making

The dreams I once had have been left on the shelf

and its function is creaking and aching

as I fill-up my days with the things I'd have loved

Should the chance have been there in my youth

I used to imagine the fields and the trees

the nature of Man and the beast

Of living for living and no greener grass

Of contentment and smallness

of one of God's creatures

hunting and frolicking and feeding its young

by Elms, Oaks, and Beeches

survival it teaches

as fulfilment of life

in itself is the meaning

No race to be won

No others to better, no future to fetter

no tomorrow, no then

just now, the beginning, and end.

So I spend my time walking

and seeking those feelings

that once I had known

before I was grown

Just half a sensation

of hopeful inspiration

a realisation of what I have lost

to my dreary acceptance

and dull resignation

that everything's owned and everything costs

though I look at the trees

leaves free in the breeze

sheep graze the shade

on someone's land, of someone's brand

then grace someone's plate or clothe someone's hand

and I look up to see, in the claws of a tree

the skull of a beast, out of place

a symbol of death, I see my face.

Reviews

[MattVoscinar]

This poem made me laugh in some parts and angry in others. Not become some parts were better than others, but because of the truth that it holds. Perhaps we are simply slaves to our stagnant 9-5 lifestyle that we have so sadly adopted and have grown content with. Perhaps we really can only escape when we are able to retire, grow older, and die, sacrificing the post beautiful things in life in the process. This poem is the very epitome of a capitalist society. Wonderfully done sir. Wonderfully done.

[Beccy]

I wonder sometimes, whether by the time we get to the point where our time is at last supposedly our own; whether somewhere along the great commercial pathway, we took a wrong turn at some crossroad or other and thus forever lost our way.

At just turned forty now, the joy of childhood seems long past, though the memories ever remain, whilst retirement, (though I confess, I don't exactly slave over a hot stove like so many,) from the fray looms ever and ever closer.

That last stanza cuts to the quick.

Beccy.

[Pax]

Dear Devon,

I was browsing among your poems and this one particularly struck me in so many level. Perhaps because somehow in someways that we all knew this kind of feelings and experienced this on our daily lives inside our society. And you know I can't help but reminisce a particular line of my piece saying:

"The day I stop dreaming
is when I started my progress…"

Sometimes we sucrifice our means of freedom just to be chained in to cultural responsibility or chained by means to survive in the walls society lets us see. Sometimes the dialy routine of mine sucks, sometimes its okay and most of the time I want to break free from it.

Anyways, what I love about this piece is truth behind every metaphors and imagery you've used. How profound it is and the same time a flowing stream of eye opening thoughts.

bravo...


Pax :)

[Devons]

Thank you, my friend. It's an honour for someone to read something from my history.

[miSS LEaf]

i knew i had to say much for this poem, or quote from, in that matter,
but first, let me say that i'm happy to scorn at the world with you through your rebellious poems, lol, you're my hero! :P
that been said, 'busy bees buzzing' is one of my favourite alliterations, 'time-stamped existence' - clever, in the end i must quote everything from this poem, felt like you were telling all my life~ gotta say i most love the last part. Well done again :)

[R J Askew]

Yep, that's me, esp the first half of the poem. I esp like 'mettle fatigue' and the last dozen lines I think are really strong. I can imagine such a moment and I can imagine feeling it. It is a sort of 'f**k, it really is over, this is how it is for me.' The bit about someone's land/brand also has a firmly English feel to it ... the dispossesed or never possesed ploughman poet. And long may there be such to say it as it is.

[Marianne]

Oh, this magnificent poem reminds me of King Solomon's 'Ecclesiastes'...
"Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun."

[.]

This is a sombre reminder of the life we blindly follow, it made me laugh and want to cry, you took us on a journey. At least it made me think about the important things that forget about when your caught up in the monotony of life. Really interesting and unforgetable read

[Poeticpiers]

retirement set me free
to be the me I want to be
I wll grow old disgracefully
Defying death quite happily
I'm free to do as I want to
not as others want me to.
When I reach my centenary
I am quite sure that I shall b
reviewing rather carefully
the situation that I see.
To see if it is worth my while
to make some changes to my style
Or to decide it's time to go
but until then I will not know

[emmajoy]

Was asked to read this poem and more than pleased to do so. In fact I've read it three times each time feeling a different emotion yet my mind is as clear as clear.

You express the frustrations of living in modern society - and do it with great style and depth: ' Shortened sleep disturbed by tomorrows .. of half-shadow mornings .. ageing the skin and ringing the eyes .. of a time-stamped existence ..scheduled-in and filing-out .. Impaled to a desk .. or chained to hard labour .. shackled by the norm .. shepherded by the masses .. gathering with the swarm .. of busy bees buzzing .. their hive of timidity .. with its guidelines and rules .. for the pen-pushers, pay-loaders .. and the cloth-cutting bankers .. .. '

You express the sadness of moving through life as if there's no freedom in yesterday, the present is speeding and the future could be a dark hole .. and, it seems .. you find it - at least in your thoughts. No optimism in sight.

The latter I find sad because from what I see with older friends, age is the time you catch up on the inhaling the life you've been too choked by living in your youth to enjoy etc.

I found the following very beautiful and immensely moving:

' I used to imagine the fields and the trees
the nature of Man and the beast
Of living for living and no greener grass
Of contentment and smallness
of one of God's creatures
hunting and frolicking and feeding its young
by Elms, Oaks, and Beeches
survival it teaches
as fulfilment of life
in itself is the meaning '

A rarer than rare 100.

[zombiikillah666]

wozers!
this was probably
the bestest &
indepth poem ive
ever read.
it was like,
jesus coming
to earth and telling
me how real life works.
and i was like, woah dude,
thats like so deep and then
we ate chips and dip.
this is like a masterpiece
of all time. and i love it.
love it love it...
and your cool.
i like this.
i like you. (: