Nature Of The Beast

Nature Of The Beast

A Poem by Devons

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.

© 2015 Devons


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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.

Posted 10 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

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.



Posted 4 Years Ago


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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 :)

Posted 5 Years Ago


Devons

5 Years Ago

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




Posted 9 Years Ago


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.

Posted 10 Years Ago


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."


Posted 10 Years Ago


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.
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

Posted 10 Years Ago


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

Posted 10 Years Ago


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.




Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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. (:

Posted 10 Years Ago



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1537 Views
28 Reviews
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Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on June 26, 2010
Last Updated on May 26, 2015
Tags: work, death

Author

Devons
Devons

South West, United Kingdom



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