Best Humane Poems | Poetry
Below are the all-time best Humane poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of humane poems written by PoetrySoup members
Search for Humane poems, articles about Humane poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Humane poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
New Humane Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Humane poems are below this new poems list.
by Okeke, Chukwunwike
by Drug, Graphite
Earth's Humane Rights to Healthy Climates
by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Divine Travelers with Humane Destinations
by Dillenbeck, Gerald
A Humane Tale
by Magno, Gabriel
Human or Humane
by Zarook, Zamreen
Human is not Humane
by Kumar, Ravindra
Poetic Endeavours Are Not Meant To Cure Us. Part 7-Humane Echoes.
by Corcoran, Daniel
It's All Humane
by Clark, Jeralynn
by Esquire, HGarvey Daniel
View all new Humane Poems
The Best Humane Poems
When oppositional cognitive dissonance deflects focus,
it tends to go back to when I deflected focus from her.
She sends me passive-aggressive messages,
bread crumbs leading back in time
to where she began to feel alone,
If you don't want a sopping wet tile bathroom floor
because I have thrown all my naked Barbie and Ken parts,
especially their water-filled hollow insides,
and the five saturated pools of stained white washcloths
I took out of that drawer just like you said not to,
and the nice sudsy soft bar of soap,
then you might want to reconsider leaving the bathroom
during my bath.
You might want to think of telling a story
or imagining with my behavioral lectures
I so mercilessly inflict
on the shattered heads of my daughter
Perhaps oppositional cognitive dissonance
is what Republicans have about Democrats,
and vice versa.
If you folks would be so kind as to return to cooperative civic and civil discussion,
about my intrinsic dignity, royalty perhaps,
sense of anthrocentric entitlement,
immaculate integrity as a Sacred Orthodox Tradition,
utterly necessary to optimize sustainable and resilient health
for All Americans,
(although perhaps not quite sufficient),
Including those who happen to have become embarrassed
by their unhealthy wealth and extravagant disregard
for undercommodified humane values,
like caring and nurturing, loving and therapeutic
mentoring relationships and trees of life, and economic
and eco-logical environ-mental (0)-sum cooperative networks,
like the synergy of all natural systems,
most especially religious cultures
delivering a united and interdependent positive teleology
that we all created this rapacious, extractive mess together.
So, please stop leaving the bathroom of discourse,
regardless of how rhetorically insane and polemic,
every time we complain about your shitty attitudes
about wealthy compost and sustainable,
optimized economic growth.
Then you democratically complain,
by voting for the one you hate the least,
as we go right on doing
what we intended to do
while we were throwing water
on your slippery-floor economics
reverse-hierarchical interdependence and mutual subsidiarity.
Much too "solidarity" for Republican taste as True,
much less Just to those who prefer their
economically entrenched competitive silos
our Democratic family value parents
hear their oppositionally disordered Republicans
as if they were bionically alien unitarian utilitarians,
like honey bees and ant hives,
devoid of deductive rational accessibility,
of even one of four dimensions of truth,
and without capacity to empathize with their well-mentored praxis
of continually forgetting you could not climb a higher priority
than telling your oppositional daughter,
Dr. Seuss's The Lorax,
Interpreting each voice as your own Lorax Ego-EcoLogos,
wondering why you continue competing
to reach a Win-Win Cooperative Game,
and biological karmic finish line,
alone in your polycultural
Yum-Yum Tree Paradise.
When you think about it,
you can see that your competitive political
and economic assumption,
that Win-Win cooperation will not have our final say,
is not ecologically, scientifically,
or even permaculturally, metaphysically
sound, rational, integrated,
sustainably designed to benefit future generations,
much less synergetic or holonically comprehensive.
You can't win a P=NP,
cooperative economic logistical plan
until everyone else has the freedom
and ecotherapeutic orthopraxis comprehension,
to win-win with you, coincidentally.
With this perhaps un-Christian,
and vaguely irreligious perspective
that Democratic mutual-redeemer culture
is closer to (0) sum Core Value Balanced Heaven
rationality, and intuition,
than appears to be the case
for our benighted Republican
wealthy fat-cat anthro-supremacist residents of Earth,
we have turned rather too far
our spinning cultural revolution pendulum
away from the racist sin of monocultural monotheism,
poverty and the overpowering commodification of human lives,
and the commodification of other species,
and the commodification of Earth's fire, water,
soil and sky,
Under-producing her capacity to regenerate fertile maturing seeds,
turning away from sin as sterile insanity,
disability and absence of healthy love,
to now prophecy the sins of monopolistic drenching wealth,
and overly ballistic power;
to notice challenging, dissonant tipping points
bicamerally competing ecopolitical uncertainty
and ecological dysfunction for all consciousness
All extending families
reconnecting our more humane DNA-informed
bicameral information processor branch of EcoTribe,
multisystemic and polyculturally Climaxing Community,
coincidentally straining and stressing to comprehend
Polynomial SpaceTime = Not-Not Polynomial Open Systemic Binomial Prime Relationship Temporal "Now"
as Yang-convex/positive = Yin-concave/negative,
as +1.00% QBit = +/-(0)% Soul Core-emergent universal Vertex/Dark Recessional Vortex (Perelman, 1993)
So, yes, Democrats, not Plutocrats, maybe somewhat closer,
but closer doesn't count
when playing Win-Win economic ecotherapy.
Donkey clown shoes might also fit elephants.
Speaking of elephants in too-narrow-minded oppositional spaces,
where was I?
Oh, yes, she’s in the bathtub again,
better watch that wet wild floor.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
A little tale about the real me
twisted all inside as can be
the visions of the end
is all i see
F.T.W. setting my self free
waking up with the thought
"SURVIVED!" another dream
holding my head under water
no one can hear my screams
cursing each and everyone
for this demon has won
taking over my soul
ripping out all my sanity
reliving over and over
the day i took my own life
my own hell is more than an element of a dream
slicing my most deepest vain, with the dullest knife
a fear so dark lashing out a terrorized scream
reality, to sanity, losing my main brain
a deep dark fear lurking, red blood stain
creeping up a MOSH caught in the way
F.T.W. we are all to blame
inside I dread the day of my rebirth
shout my guts into space for I have faced
to slow down the beast with a potent power of radiation
a frame out demon skinning the philosophy you once new
an evil more than vile, a poison worst than sin
motivating his way in to my voyage of my on tormented life
a DEMON dust from Neptune possessing me its rings
never to think in my wildest observation
I would encounter my own depths of a zero pointless energy
giving to my by the lighted gravity of humane
restricted on the eyes, for the ones who do not wish to see
a trance faster than the speed of light
ending myself to a forever night
fighting with them who reject to see a demon so twisted
dropped from the cosmos of realistic
no one wanting to acknowledge the relativistic way
that time travel out*** and Demons travel in***
lost forever in this rotten being
making me shout out loud to he
who knows my name
dealing with the devils Darkest Poet
in a Dark Poets game
just a dream soupppppers lol. : )
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
There you go again, you “Cyber Brat”!
There is “no such website”? What is that?
First you lead me through a wild web maze;
I Google, then succumb to your craze.
What happens if I hit “delete”?
Will my work vanish, incomplete?
Or do you wish to cast me aside?
I’ll tap “escape” and wash out high tide!
Your camera is like a stalker;
I cuss it like an inane squawker.
If I press “shift,” will the Earth’s poles move?
Your choice of labels you could improve.
So I’ll “insert” myself into your brain,
In a quest to make you more humane.
The poor page tires of your “up” and “down”
Now the court jester can wear your crown!
No more “errors” or lost connections,
And I’ll rid those viral infections.
Take me back to the old typewriter,
Days when the world’s load seemed far lighter.
I promise I’ll never eke out a "tweet"
When I replace “Word” with a paper sheet.
The old “White Out” is still in my desk
And it’s never looked more statuesque!
*Written April 1, 2015, for Carol's contest.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2015
Although two other felines enjoyed their lap time
Atop them the dominating Katy would climb
The lap she didn’t want; she sat right on my face
Katy felt this was her right; she had claimed this space
If I tried to watch TV, her paw closed my eyes
If challenged, with a huffy hiss she would chastise
At mealtime she’d growl, chasing other cats away
How did I come to adopt this demanding stray
At the Humane Society, I passed her cage
She clawed my sleeve and my attention she engaged
Smarter than most cats, Katy was queen of our house
She’d just yawn if we were invaded by a mouse
For twenty-two years, Katy always made me smile
The morning she passed, I felt like I’d lost a child
*Written November 5, 2014, in honor of Katy Cat.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
It's the pain laced cold reality check
crashing winds hurricane blowing
the tail end landing with news processed
Suffering human rights ignored pains
through prides green eyes
a legion filled with envy
money signs the pact
Your a joke monster of a devil
whom mocks and violates this earthly gift
who armed Isis
Or any other of these so called rebel groups
world terrorists are to blame bullies
for such deadly sins taking life's of your fathers sons
They will curse you
to hell and back forever
the damned armed
with the devils tools
destruction of humanity creeps closer
Crawling dark matter
from the dirty underworld
dead bones rise
scattering ash burns to dust
Blood of our brothers and sisters spill
upon grounds seeking peace
sins with their poisonous greed
Oil is now the dark matter reaping souls
without Divine mercy kills with hate
His judgement comes on the final day
they hide in the mountains of who they are
Claiming to be something
they are not humane
begs the question inside truth
World dominating powers invade
with bombs to dominate and destroy a world's grace
Doomsday is there no end
to your horrid need for suffering
Your games Satan faceless entity
hiding in the shadows
a snake turns against God's seals
without spine dark matter
Think human morals out seriously
They have gone upside down deciding fate
our future generations life children cry
in the drop of a hat inside core
Out of this world
tilting balance towards revelations
trial of life
we see answers unfolding
blinded no more by falseness
good against evil begins the battle
I believe in faith
a great source
holding power over hate
so my prayers are for peace
dove of an angel sings the joy
with love and understanding
the book of good conduct
God blesses all those afflicted deeply
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015
Cecil the lion of Zimbabwe, famous and beloved,
Shot by a bow hunter after being lured from his home;
It took Cecil forty hours to die, how he must have suffered,
They tracked him down and shot, skinned and beheaded him.
It was senseless, cowardly, cruel and barbaric,
Oh I weep for Cecil the lion with the rest of the world;
And all animals victims of trophy hunters who kill for the fun,
Our voices must be united and be strong, we must end poaching.
We must demand justice for Cecil and all animals,
The hunting for sport must be stopped as it is murder;
No amount of money makes it right, no more heads on walls,
No more animals killed by cowards with big egos and money to do it.
Sign a petition, make your voice heard loudly,
Laws need to change so that animals no longer die;
This particular killer will be tracked down just like he did,
But we will be more humane, we won't shot, skin and behead him.
This coward in hiding must face justice in Zimbabwe.
August 26, 2015
Written by Broken Wings
For the contest , What Is Your Form Of Justice, sponsor, Tammy Reams
Note: Image placed on poem after judging as sponsor did not want images on entries, but now that the contest is judged, I wanted everyone to see how beautiful Cecil was.
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
Let's start this issue with hard facts
believe it or not the seed is now planted
from our Lord's spoken words lets address this world openly honest
It only fills us with the wind and the emptiness of pride
Now lets count the cost of innocent lives
through greed and human sacrifice
corrupted where peace no longer exists a humane body of love
Divine lightening is coming with it we lock our doors
the three dark days of darkness lets not forget
when His Supreme Justice falls into chaos
The sins of this time outweigh past chastisements
The wrath of His force is Almighty has never been seen before
when slaying the dragon crushing him with His Power
The low key figure that he is we need to bolt our doors shut soon
as this world is in deep turmoil no one reads the sign of the cross
He who is coming our Jerusalem King and Saviour Sweet Son of the Father
In Spirit baptised and confirmed by the spear of Destiny
striking down petition once and for all
eternity in that battlefield we will lose some of those whom you loved dearly
Into the end prayer could not save them
from this awful emptiness left behind under a trail of smoke
remains shamed tears of choice under ashes blown away
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2017
Truth is a feather
pushed off to the other side.
Truths are a body of feathers
within which our bodies reside.
OK, students of life’s healthiest purposes and meanings,
it’s time to regather, if you would be so kind.
[My EcoTherapist is trying to recall our bicameral minds with ecological bodies.]
[More kinda creepy silence.]
[I wonder if I have time for a cigarette.]
How do you understand “mind” as other than “body”?
[OK, she leads with a dualist assumption
for a session advertised as nondualist,
so the correct answer must be,
Which, mind or body, do you believe came first,
or do you believe,
as I do,
consciousness and biosystems co-arise nondually?
[I knew it!
Biosystems are self-identifying consciousness-rememory
DNA-encoded systems, or RNA, if you’re a tree or something green,
from before the time when physical root systems
transubstantiated into metaphysical regenerate root bilateral,
then bicamerally balancing,
I remember our history of biological evolution co-mentoring sessions,
out on the coral reefs of time’s surfing copresence.]
If mind emerges from reiterative and redundant and resonant neural-cellular development,
in these, and probably other, senses co-arising nondually,
then what do you think could survive of your Ego identity
upon total biosystemic flatline demise of your natural-chemically elementary cellular body?
From where would sensory consciousness and memory emerge?
From when, and for how long?
[Hang on there now. I’m stuck back on the where question,
which I think should probably default as Nowhere,
Ego emerges from nowhere?
No, no, If dead,
then Ego as sensory consciousness and memory is nowhere
at that time, and on into the future of EarthTribal evolutionary history.
No such phenomenon.
No such experience within continuous Earth-spinning Time.
But only as long as I dance this Ego-consciousness string
As your mindbody decomposes,
is this really still your Ego’s story?
In that future time of opportunities for health and relationship
capacities for ongoing communication,
you struggle to face their mortal loss now, projecting forward,
we struggle together to find faith
these lost opportunities are not your post-critical event
of loss, decay, absence, inevitable physical and mental defeat.
[I don’t even have faith that anyone will think that day
has come even one day too soon.
Nor would I care to invest in such an unwise faith.]
in the face of this inevitable termination of Ego’s mindbody story,
as unfolding conscious memory-string of continuous information,
transform into your nutritionally reiterating responses and contributions
yet reverberating within EarthTribe’s ReGeneration Story?
Is your Ego expanding out toward Earth’s Story?
pregnant pregenetic, nearly timeless Creation Story,
out and yet deeply into this Elder (0)Riginal Intent.
Body memory transforming within ecopolitical truths of post-taoist beauty,
ecologic of Ego/Eco balancing
dipolar cognitive/affective neural emergence
(0) CommonsCentered DNA/RNA code—syntax
healthy reverse development instructions
for normative natural/spiritual
mind/body elational resonant resolutions
giving oneself birth into this body’s time
as giving ourselves freedom
for time’s codependent love of light ourselves.
[My self-image emerges rather far toward the depressive side
of love as ecoconscious light myselves.
Oh, wait, maybe that connection between agape as Basic Attendance,
understory of all those relational dramas, and nonrelational boredoms,
dissonance and dismay,
feelings of elation and relation,
love and hate,
anger and fear,
all Ego’s products,
as Ego, in turn, is produced
by unfolding DNA instructions
within a nurturing DNA-developed warm embryonic pronoic womb
living in this specific time
within Earth’s evolution of continuing ecosystemic health-consciousness.
[Oh, I get it, health as therapy-consciousness.
Puts a postmillennial twist on post-doctoral medicinal sciences.
Kind of self-serving, though,
unless all humane-nature is for ecotherapeutic vocations,
in dying as in living,
in living as optimally visible through mortality’s timeless lens.]
What we inherited from Elder wombs of Time’s incarnation
is what Ego becomes
to cherish as responsible authority
rooted within teleologically exegetical historic evidence
unveiling regenerative evolutions as cooperative nested-networks,
and to let go free as a last pay-it-forward gift
to nurture future healthy regenerations of time
[Why do I feel like I could use a bath
more than a cigarette?]
deepdense Ego-Ecohypnotic co-elational learning bright,
white octaving night,
protons merging eco-lateral binomial electronically issuing waves
as Yes! reweaves notnot
[I’m wondering if there is something in Taoist water
that regenerates this wu wei balance
spinning through my bicamerally revolving mind
Could you become as curious about other’s Ego development stories
as you have obsessed about your own?
[Wait a minute,
when did I give you the OK to label me as self-obsessed?
Or maybe the balance point here
invites comparisons between obsessive curiosities,
in which case
perhaps my own Ego health constant revival
does indeed lie most mortally on my failing mind.]
please note differences
but memorize Earth’s natural systemic similarities,
especially about what we all want our end to say
one day's capacities for love as peace,
about gradually subsiding incapacities of anger Ego losses
and fear of/for future Earth as sacred compost,
transubstantiating post-climatic residency.
was I supposed to write that out loud?]
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
Venomous poison ran in my veins
exuding an emotionless nihilism
that led to everyday iniquitous quarrels
that left us devoid of truth and peace.
Why did I lose myself in such self pity?
Can I blame you for your obscene replies?
Had love taken an undeserved holiday?
Confusion and irrational thoughts reigned.
Oh foolish humans that we were to lose
so easily our much esteemed dignity.
We lost the "we" and ego ruled the roost.
So we run rough shod over each other,
never considering those brakes we could have used.
But a brake did come. She stopped in mid sentence.
I was astounded as she sat down bewildered
not pronouncing one word. Trembling I held her hand.
Was it my fault she was struck so? Perhaps,
but from then on I became her nurse.
Gone forever were the malevolent intentions
that dominated my nefarious and despicable dealings.
I had now one aim in life, to bring her back to normal.
Too late I realized how much I really loved her.
Gone was my dignity, my hatred, my retaliations.
My soul grew into a humane and caring nurse,
the old pains gone and I find it exhilarating to see
her progressing towards a semblance of normality.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016
Last evening I noticed another disconcerting Trump headline.
This felt and smelled more like a deadline
than a lifeline,
a bootstrap, if you will,
toward integrity of health and regenerative safety,
which I thought was front and center
in our US Constitution
which I remember him swearing to protect
right before he reassured all of us
he is here to listen to everyone;
Republicans and Democrats and Libertarians and Greens,
and whatever other ecopolitical party affiliations
he might be able to discover
and learn from
on his new Presidential executive ordering journey
the headline was about White House Rumblings
of an assault on the legalized and medicalized marijuana industry.
My first reaction
Why would a federal administration
that has just finished reassuring all fifty States
that where students poop and pee in school should,
by right, rest solely at the state level to regulate,
almost in the next inordinate breath,
also send out this alarming message to all fifty States
that it has become a new federal health and regenerative,
integrative, long-term through short-term, safety assurance issue
that my kids should prefer the alcoholic beverage industry
over the THC industry.
I'm still wrapping my brain around how that could possibly be defended,
sold and also bought,
as a consistent reading of
"listening to everyone"
about their constitutionally protected federal rights
to health and regenerative safety,
sane public policy.
I believe it was a congressman,
and not a "prurient interest" judge,
who said he could not define pornography,
but he knew it when he saw it.
This Administration, to date,
has brought us not only our first twitteringly Naked Disintegrative President,
but now his fascist federalist tendencies
begin to look more like jacking off in public,
like pursuing his personal prurient exhibitionist fear-mongering agenda
instead of paying even lip service
to his true mandate,
the health and regenerative safety Original Intent
of not only the U.S. Constitution,
but also the Bible he laid his right dominant hand on,
and the economic and political act of active listening
to a healthy-wealthy regenerative multicultural society
of humane citizenry
doing our best to follow our Golden Rule intentions
to at least do no alcoholic-buzzed harm,
cause no further dis-integrity,
and, whenever and wherever possible,
to follow a path of regenerative health,
and multiculturing prosperity.
As for DT2 himself,
I suspect he would improve his governing outcomes
by easing off the alcohol
and investing more in some reefer madness,
preferably while among a large,
extended family, picnic,
But, DT2 aside,
this White House has already become the home of nakedly prurient interests,
rather than federal and state health and integrative safety policies
regenerative planning and design,
rather than degenerative reacting and assault and wall-building.
Prurient--marked by arousing
unwholesome (unhealthy, unsafe, unredemptive, non-therapeutic)
investment in desire.
With pornographic performance,
we speak of a whole lot of immodest sexual desire,
but with the current Executive Branch of ecopolitically competitive,
rape and pillage, performance,
we speak of a whole lot of immodest fear and war-mongering desire.
The rampant raging desire
to play WinLose games
of naked competition for elitist supremacy
on a WinWin Constitutional and Biblical and planetary climate stage.
The key operative governance, administrative, executive skills,
word here is "unwholesome" v "wholesome."
Certainly we aren't intending to legislate what is
"marked by arousing, sometimes even immodestly so,
but still wholesome investments in regenerative desire."
Wholesome is about regenerative multiculturing natural evolutionary,
sacred nurturing revolutionary,
even as these will inevitably lead, sometimes,
on our best days,
toward dopamine ecstasies.
This, to me,
and for my extending multi-generational,
sounds more like a mandate to co-invest
in health and safety industries,
with or without THC,
rather than investing further in the prurient, vaguely alcoholic,
unwholesomeness of Nakedly Elitist AllWhite Houses.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017
Something beautiful, something ugly
Something beautiful trapped inside a black hole;
The monster is feeding and swallowing hope.
It’s swallowing souls as its fingers hold,
Us down by our throats and it will never let go.
Something beautiful, something ugly;
Someone to love, when fear has a grip on me.
Let it go and rise once more!
Kick down the exit door and once more feel the warmth.
Been cold so long, I have forgotten the heat,
As strangers meet;
They soon disappear and become a friend or a lover.
After walking alone down barren streets,
With no knowledge of what it is we should seek;
Until we find a love we have always needed to discover.
Something beautiful hidden beneath;
Something ugly, plain for all to see.
Give them all a remedy and allow them to see beauty.
Misery is surely ugly;
Bitterness seeks the incomplete.
Wondering how to become complete;
Lacking good will, detesting humanity.
Something beautiful, something ugly;
We are human. Words are used without dignity.
Something beautiful, something ugly;
We are all humane and we are at war with ourselves.
Destroy the fiend you call your friend;
Because when the time comes, they will offer you no help.
Something ugly, something beautiful;
The pain has been removed, so you can fly high now people.
Age is a thief; time is not your friend.
We are condemned to lose our beauty and become ugly in the end.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2016
A sad state our government has become today
in this awful news that just pushes the boat out further
As our democracy for one protecting our children
Why it is even under attack beats me up inside moral grounds
this should not even be considered under the harshest circumstances
because it's a humane act to love our little ones bless them with life
not kill them shows savages craving suffering judgemental fools
Tells me all that I need to know about corrupt politics
under an non democratically elected leadership
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2018
He must have done some horrid thing,
so vile I bet and frightening
because it's hard to fathom why
we shut him in to never fly,
or feel the wind against his wings,
or why the caged bird ever sings!
A sight to see at any age;
this captive beast inside a cage!
Perhaps we think by some degree
he's better off alone than free.
Or if, by chance, we think humane
that he should never feel the rain,
but life of pain and one of scars
behind the cruelty of bars!
Amusement rests not on a stage,
but in some tiny, prison cage!
What if our human lives were one
that never felt the summer sun,
or saw the moon, or chased a breeze,
or fell in love, or glanced the seas?
We take for granted little things
like why the caged bird ever sings!
A sight to see at any age;
this captive beast inside a cage!
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2009
A mystery for us mere human being to unravel;
B elief and logic fight over our world, all in confusion.
C ome stealthily, it does, while as busy beavers we wander.
D riven to sudden halt; surprise, shock and suffering grip tight.
E ssentials prop up from some dormant sector of the mind to
F ace strain and stress, in some old robotic approach once instilled.
G ot to hold upon, got to stand, got to function, as needed.
H earing and understanding are postponed until opportune.
I rony of life or mockery of fate; its own will to
J eer at our needs, feelings, state of being and expectation.
K indness, generosity and support shower from around
L ike lightness filtering in very long dark and gloomy night.
M esmerised we are of a display of crowding humane touch
N ever anticipated and evaluated in our
O rganisation selfish, to conquer,to build and to rise.
P artly wrecked, partly saved, we wade hard to breathe and to sustain.
Q uestions are many and answers less; in our everyday, they
R ecur, growing in number and torturing us with chagrin.
S omebody, luckily has to be here to listen, to share,
T o give some answers; family or friends, for us to pick up.
U nderstanding and accepting, all we are left with, to fill
V oid that keeps growing larger and larger while self confidence
W avers often; diversion from normal path of ours, repeats.
X enacious we are with willpower strong to rebuild upon.
Y ears of engineering; alas, some habits have to be dropped.
Z eal to live God's given life has to be gathered to move on!
15 syllables per line.
Copyright © Sunita U.D Palawon | Year Posted 2017
The Tear Collector
Tears they fall, sometimes bless-ed
In their burning
Watered reminders of a hearts capacity
To connect emotions
Soft welling they sting
And find their language of wet lashes
Run their courses
As ancient rivers carve their way
Through stone barriers
Tears collected vanish in vanquished aches
Evaporate to silence
Leaving their mark, their fragrance
Breathed in the molecules dispersed
Cut to the edges of wishes
Images of longing
Hearts slowly breaking in two
Still holds you
Weep for you
Behind the hard choke rasping and sobs
Moans sniffling for a beauty
Both found and lost
Delivered Jesus to red rimmed eyes
That see beyond and into the sanctity of pain
It cried; I; not for myself
But for you, for her, the rest of the world
Broken by innocence
The heaving heavy chest digs its well of sadness
In slow counted beats of blood
Grief for love
With these sickles gouged deeper to the flaws
And spread their knowing further
Into the fathoms of your soul
Tears; the reflections of venerated smiles
Become the augury of responses
Of sight pierces the darkest, fallen pool
Tears; the written messages of sorrow and laughter
Covert their collection of sacrifices
And fall bless-ed humane
The merciful and pitiable denizens
Of a stronger more courageous face than Gods
They beat with the bravery of flesh
More holy; than heavens sacred
Have these tears
For more sure they are in their tactile salt
Are these tears
And in your tears a more profound betterment exists
More, much more of life
And more courageous
To face their own existence
Than the pretence of their presence
Copyright © colin mitchell williams | Year Posted 2009
“The History of a Wasted Mind”
What goes through the mind of a recidivist
Fist full of hate and hurt marking time
Fist full of history, got down with the dirt
The History of a Wasted Child
The History of a Wasted Mind
Some think that War in the World is "out There"
All around the World, it’s really on the "Inside"
You think by running away that you can hide
Spiders under rocks, Wings pinned through the Glass
Blue Morphing Butterfly
Never Never Land is where you thought you would never ever be
Hurt Child, you must reverse time back to 3
Holy Trinity Revelation marching into town
In your mind, Armies of the Dead, Yellow Jacket Hornets,
Forever Buzzing Bees and smirking Evil Clowns that frown
buries 6ft under, all the good "Remaining" in your drowning head
You wear no Golden Crown
8 is always a lucky number, so they say, place all the bets on the money
Jigsaw pieces missing, father rolls his car, Heaven swollows dreams
Mother looks for answers in the bottom of a wineglass smoking tar for tea
Hands new men the front door key, honey in the jar...at formica table
Sister and Brother sitting in the kitchen, all is numb and sweet in their
World of Milk and Honey, the land of myths and fables
Somewhere lurking in dark corner watching on, a Red Back spins it’s web
Mother opens the door to Mr Wrong, leads him to her bed
Dark bedtime stories then are read, no lights left on,
curtains closed and nothing said
Piano for the Self Taught,
The Devil sings along
The Poison has been injected
It now courses through your veins
Fast forward to a bathroom mirror, you are 52
Watching from your dark mind’s corner
The Red Back now is you
In the mirror not your eyes in your reflection cast
See her close the door in tears, she turns the key at last
Blue Morphing Butterfly makes her defection clear and fast
A speeding silver bullet, in her arms her child she holds so tightly near
Butterflies are free, this is very cut and clear
The Mirror Cracked in Time
The History of a Wasted Child
The History of a Wasted Mind
The Mirror Cracked in Time
To err is human, to Forgive is the definition of Divine?
No, this is War, dear child, make no mistake of that
Your mother displays all the Colours of the Honour Guard
For Red Back, I fear it is far too late his innocence to cry
All the Chance cards have been blown away, foul winds cut all awry
Ravens fly across the pages in the storms that fray his mind
The Mirror Cracked
This is Eye for Eye
Different Bedtime stories, do not cry
My sweet Butterfly,
You are your Mother's Child
Blue Morphing Butterfly
“Sing a song of sixpence
A pocket full of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie …”
"Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her Tuffet
Eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away”…
1. "Never Never Land", UNKLE (The Entire Album)
"Hurt me and be tolerated - Hurt Mine and Be Decimated"
Quote: SimonStorm, Poetry Soup
"Ah ne'er so dire a Thirst of Glory boast,
Nor in the Critick let the Man be lost!
Good-Nature and Good-Sense must ever join;
To err is Humane; to Forgive, Divine"
An Essay in Criticism - Alexander Pope
“The wind blew stronger. Masakichi had to walk into its resistance, but his pace did not slow. The further he went, the faster he moved, soundlessly and forcefully. The earth smelled like rain. He had to find a way out. Alive.
His grandfather Jinzaemon had taught him how to find a straight path, even in the wind. Jinzaemon was born in 1848, twenty years before Japan first opened its doors to the West. He had taught Masakichi all about ninjutsu. “If you want to go straight against the wind, find a path in its folds and pass through it,” he had said, although he’d never actually taught his grandson how to find it. Still, Masakichi had begged him.
“Even if I teach you where the path is, you won’t be able to see it because the wind is always changing. If I show you the path in the wind one minute, the wind will shift and the path will disappear the next.”
“Then how do I find it?” Masakichi had asked, worried he’d never be able to do it.
“You must find it anew each time,” his grandfather smiled. “The only way to see the path in the wind is to become the wind itself.”
- Leza Lowitz Shogo Oketani, Jet Black and the Ninja Wind
Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018
Weaving the fabric of a sunken universe
Gliding the winds of a bottomless curse
Little spider, hanging in my head
Free of the wings that really are chains
Forging a mirror that never shatters
A mirror that does not exist
Little spider, aching in my head
Blind and deaf, drowned in ecstacy
Crawling in the pain of bliss
Seeking the sweets of sickness
Little spider, dying in my head
Torn from itself, immune to embrace
"At least, be humane", so that's what they said
Hold on to your pain, for it is your cocaine
Little spider, growing in my head
Here is the world, cradle of the dead
Copyright © David Paquin | Year Posted 2005
What Kind of People Are We
In a Shakespearean sense of tragedy and doubt the well-used
“To Be or Not To Be” from Hamlet is not the question I shall
discuss in this narrative. Rather, I shall consider a few things
concerning the current Middle Eastern and European migrant
situation that has riveted the attention of the countries in those
regions as well as the rest of the world. And it’s my opportunity
to reflect on some of the things that have occurred (and are still
occurring right now), that I find quite troubling and morally
offensive to me as concerned person and citizen.
As a writer and poet, and as a moral human being, I can say
that I was truly shocked at the sight of an innocent, young Syrian
refugee boy named “Aylan Kurdi,” who had drowned and was lying
face down on a Turkish beach near a resort with his head turned
slightly on its right side, as the ebb and flow of the salted waves
pushed and pulled on his little body. A real tragedy for sure that
might have been prevented, if humane, responsible, and responsive
migrant immigration policies had been in place so his father
would not have been compelled to put his wife and both of his
sons—who all drowned together—on that fateful boat at the very
mercy of ruthless and evil human traffic smugglers.
The horrendous scenes played over and over on the 24-hour news
cycle of the migrants and their innocent children from Syria, Iraq,
Turkey, Afghanistan, and other countries being treated like cattle
(or even less than cattle), and indiscriminately pushed around and
tear-gassed by unfriendly and unwelcoming jack-booted Hungarian
Rendorség (Police) were certainly most shocking and disgustingly
revulsive by both their malicious tenor and insidious intent. The
actions also of some right-wing Hungarian demonstrators hurling
loud and abusive comments at the refugees was also quite tragic
and disturbing. I found the actions of the Hungarian Police under
the direction of Prime Minister Viktor Orban to be similarly
reminiscent of the actions of Hitler’s Gestapo and Sturmabteilung
or the SA Troops after 1933 in Nazi Germany. Shame on them!
Shame on them! This is the same old tired bigotry and stupidity
on display today.
Despite these despicable actions of the Hungarian Police and many
of Mr. Orban’s governmental officials, a number of Hungarian
citizens still showed their kindness and humanity in helping the
migrants at various junctures on the autobahn as they trekked
toward the Austrian border in route ultimately to Germany. This
caught my obvious attention as well.
For me, the “so-what?” here turns ultimately upon the following
philosophical and human question: “What Kind of People Are We?”
The migrant problem as we know is largely the result of the massive
displacement of people that has occurred (and is still occurring) in
in the war-torn countries in the Middle East and in certain areas of
Southeast Asia. This tragedy is one of many of our world’s current
and future 21st-century challenges. How each of us as “concerned
citizens,” in consonance with the policies and actions of the various
governments in the countries we each live under, will certainly
play a role in reflecting in the end the kind of people we really are.
For me, the nationalistic actions of the right-wing parties and
extremists, in many countries (including the United States) and
particularly now in Europe, provide no real solution at all, and
become a convenient excuse for many people to forsake their
conscience and basic humanity—and to stick their heads in the
sand like a bunch of frightful ostriches lost in the reveries of
their hate and prejudice, and disgraceful cowardice! There can
be no apology and justification for this ever! This type of
behavior is a deep-seated cancer ever-lurking in the genes of
our human society and in mankind’s soul—awaiting its chance
to metastasize and reek its horrible destruction upon its victims.
The point I’m driving at is this: The current responsible actions
of a number of world leaders, to particularly highlight those of
the European Union, appear to be taking several of the right steps
in helping these refugee migrants and their families undergoing
this terrible strife forced upon them by the tyranny of war and the
resultant poverty and dislocation. Being stupid, hateful, and clearly
prejudiced as some people and certain governmental leaders are in
our global community today is not the answer and it never will be!
To people who really do care about this ongoing migrant tragedy,
it’s time to rally and act in support of local, regional, and worldwide
efforts to help these migrant people and their families so afflicted
by poverty, disease, war, injury, death, and territorial displacement.
For me, I desire to make my voice heard loud and clear as a writer,
poet, and concerned world citizen on this matter and in my own
most humble way. Keep in mind that many of us are descendants
of families who at one time or another were migrants from other
countries escaping the whip and lash of cruel dictators and their
terrible regimes masquerading as legitimate governments of the
In my estimation, the kind of people we should be or aspire to be
are those who relish the winds of freedom, the certainty of justice,
the spirit of friendship, the values of fairness and fair play, the
magnificence of humanity, the desire for cultural diversity and
inclusion, and the love of our fellow man under the very eyes
of God Himself.
What kind of people are we? With this, I rest my case.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
September 11, 2015 (Narrative)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
When I was eight
I knew Paradise could not be merely secular humane
and yet be justly and omnipotently divine,
when a Great Horned Owl
breathed her last sacred breath toward me,
while she flew away
to where I would thinly follow
in my robust adult time.
It took me eight cycles of octave eight
to realize why
Paradise must include multiculturing nests for fowl
and ecopolitically cooperative seas for fish
and surf's bilateral co-gravity
eco-measuring timeless here and now eternity.
Because a monocultural Paradise
would be polypathically oxymoronic,
an economically and nutritionally ridiculous metaphysical paradigm,
not ecologically sustainable,
not even basic harmonic balance
because not multiculturally
or polyphonically healthy intelligence
of regenerative/degenerative ecopolitical design.
Everybody knows that Heaven
begins and ends in an organically holistic Earth Garden,
with zero-balanced degenerative waste stream,
So how does denying our climate
and Earthscape wasting pathologies
help us become the ReForesting Paradise
we might cooperatively become
through healing these dissonant
decaying apartheid anomalies
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
Kindheartedness is being quite generous
A considerate attitude that is from the inside
No price tag is placed on being accommodating
Being benevolent and affectionate is cordial
Willing to give everything for nothing in return.
A trait that is not always an inherited tendency
One to be heartily imbibed and truly developed
A behaviour that stands one out in the crowd
Exhibiting true amiable and amicable qualities
Portraying brotherly,sisterly,fatherly & motherly love.
When you are humane and quite propitious
They say you are beneficient and philanthropic
When you are soft-hearted or tender-hearted
They talk of you as being thoughtful & understanding
You are a bounteous bonhomie & benign personality.
Exuding a calid courteous and altrustic aura
Places you on a pedestal different from others
Extraneous factors may want to impede on you
The propensity of your kindheartedness surpasses
Showcasing your nature as a an outstanding being.
Copyright © Raymond Emeka-Mbah | Year Posted 2010
I have been praying to God ever since I first understood the concept of a deity. Although I have struggled through life with my acceptance of and belief in the religion I was force fed as a child, the praying has always stayed with me – on an almost every day basis. In some way or some form or for some reason, it seems, I find myself praying to a God I am not sure I believe in.
Over the years, some of the things I have prayed for or prayed against have worked out in my favor. Other things didn’t quite work out the way I had hoped. So, I wondered, was this proof that my prayers are sometimes answered or simply the law of averages? It really didn’t matter, I was programed to pray and so pray I do.
This has been going on pretty routinely for over 50 years; so, imagine my surprise when, for the first time last night, God talked back to me!
I may not get this exactly right, but, in essence, this is what He had to say:
(I am not sure what font to type God’s words in, so I will just keep on with the default.)
“Joe, Joe, Joe. I have been listening to you for all your life. And, whereas I do enjoy your thoughts; your words; and your sentiments; I find it is time for me to respond.
You really do pray a lot for lots of things. Mostly good and humane things. Mostly with a pure and caring heart. But, son, you need to stop doing so much praying and start doing more stuff on your own. I am not up here to make your life easier and to do things for you.
When you were young, instead of praying for that bicycle, you should have been doing chores to earn money towards buying it. You could have cut more lawns, washed more cars, got a paper route, sold lemonade, or many other things other young boys were doing to earn money for the things that they wanted.
When you were in high school and prayed to me to help you do well in your wrestling matches, you should have, instead, been working harder at practice; spent more time on your conditioning; spent more time in the weight room; and studied harder on the art of wrestling.
In college, when you prayed for help on your mid-terms and finals, you should have, instead, spent more time studying and less time partying – I think that is something you already know.
Even when you pray on behalf of others – you should be doing more.
Instead of praying I would help old Mrs. Conner at the end of your street, you should have gotten up off your butt and walked down to the end of the street and looked in on her yourself. You could have offered to go to the store for her, pick up her prescriptions or simply keep her company in her final years.
When you prayed for me to care for the starving children around the world, you should have been volunteering to help out yourself or donating more money towards this cause. If you funneled all the money you spent on unnecessary junk food and extra meals you consumed throughout the years towards charities that help feed and clothe the poor, you could have saved many of the children you prayed that I would save.
Instead of praying that I cure your family, friends and acquaintances that you knew were ill or dying, you should have been visiting them in the hospital or writing them letters or providing assistance to their loved ones to help ease their pain.
Prayer is not the vehicle for you to be lazy and yet gain the rewards. Prayer is not a means to have me do for others what you have the power and ability to do yourself.
I am glad that you talk to me, but you have been granted the ability and means to do so much more by yourself and yet you choose to take the easy way out and pray to me – the God that I know you are confused about. Please, do me a favor, and before you pray, ask yourself, ‘Have I exhausted all avenues available to me to achieve the result I want God to perform?’
If, after you have done everything you can possibly do, then I may be more willing to consider what it is you ask for.
And now, my son, you can wake up.”
I sat up quickly in my bed, sweating and confused. Was I just dreaming? Was that really God talking to me? Then, somewhere from deep inside, either from my conscious or a left-over message from the Almighty Himself, I thought (or heard): “What does it matter? Whether it was God or not – the message is valid and something I probably already knew.”
“Well,” I said to myself, in prayer, “I will give it my best. But, is it okay if we still talk? It kind of helps to give me strength?”
I will take that as a, “Yes”.
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2012
What is patriotism?
Pride of and for national, and maybe cultural, superiority.
What is nationalism?
Usually positive values,
but I guess nationalism could also include negative evaluations,
for national autonomous freedom and power to do good.
What is good?
Well, OK, whatever falls into what we agree is notnot ancient evil.
Have we not had considerably too much experience
with national-cultural superiority complexities
leading to totalitarian toxic, or evil, outcomes?
Why can't we redefine patriotism
as economic-political cooperative maturity?
I suppose we could,
but maturity based on what standard of mature v immature?
Well, where do we now base national superiority v inferiority?
Some economists start with trends in Gross National Production.
Could we at least compare GNP to Gross National Consumption?
Maybe look at this prime balancing/unbalancing trend across the past several years.
So patriotism rises and falls with whether national production balances consumption?
Of everything and everyone, I guess.
But, I suspect robust international patriotism peaks where consumption and production
approach co-arising (0)-sum WinWin cooperative integrative balance
within a globally sustainable ecopolitical nurturing-nutritional network.
So you suggest re-rooting nationalism in a more global patriotic cooperativist identity,
more robust and resilient,
ecopolitical national/international regenerativity.
Because regenerativity, rather than degenerativity,
invites increases in multiculturing relationships and transactions,
while national superiority sparks racism and elitism
and the entitled piracy of yesterday's alien savages.
Nationalistic patriotism suboptimizes
inclusive global growing ecopolitical cooperative opportunities
for network development
we creolization need
as our Business As Usual co-investment pride
of shared Golden Rule macaronic purpose.
ecopolitical cooperative wealth,
grow with multi- and poly-cultural outcomes;
while monocultural nationalism produces racism and sexism
and anthrocentric incomes and outgos.
Co-responsibility nurtures syncretic integrity,
just as cultural elitism accelerates from illusions of biological superiority
through short-term competitions for profits off remaining ecosystemic players,
if ecological growth invests toward integrative regenerative density.
Nationalism grows antipathic distrust
when we need to grow co-empathic healthy trust
of inclusive international democratization,
mutually revered creolization,
rather than patriot-identified colonization.
As cooperative ecopolitics globally emerges
we find ourselves playing WinWin long-term co-investment games
with more multiculturing others.
Interdependent listening and investment expands
across oceans and the internet.
Regenerative dense mutuality
grows in Mother Earth's bilateral hemispheric scope
extending matriarchal family depth
back to YinSquared Time
inviting polypathic Yang-tridimensional space,
nondually co-arising 4-dimensional RealTime
eco-patriotic/matriotic multiculturing health and safety resonance.
So what is your idea of true patriotism again?
Pride and humane humility
of and for Earth's multicultural regenerate sacred superiority
over degenerate too-secularized
inferiority of monocultural anthrocentric
natural self-entitlement rights
to commodify self-righteous elitism
and punish prophets of more ecofeminist
RightBrain artistic and syncretic persuasions.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017
Each day foul critters infest our house
Though not by slipping in like a mouse
We just press a button
Or buy a subscription
To get news wrote or spoke by a louse
These creatures of the two legged kind
Try hard each day to persuade our mind
With sly information
That helps the causation
Of the falling apart of mankind
They tout the need for unearned welfare
Claim hard earned profits are so unfair
And granting amnesty
Is a good policy
Plus growing our debt is fine they swear
For those who work hard earning their way
Give what they can and put some away
Are sick of the slackers
Prodded by the backers
Whose aim is using half truths to sway
It’s hard to ignore those talking heads
But it’s not right to tear them to shreds
Yet there’s a solution
And with execution
We can spread liberty in their stead
We’ll put Obama pic’s and golf caps
Along with a taped speech that he yapped
In a human sized crate
Coz it’s time to create
A main stream media Have-A-Heart trap
Like it or not, these traps are humane
But anyways, we’ll have much to gain
So, once we have caught
All those who have brought
Disinformation causing brain drain
We’ll squeeze all of them in through a pipe
Along with politicians who hype
Into a sphere of the livable type
In there they can tax to the extreme
And promote their harmful fairness schemes
But when they’re out of dough
They will lip read our NO!
Since their bubble is a sound proof dream!
Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2013
He flies far
Collected Sprig to make a nest
Wish he could Guard her eggs.
She flies away
Leaving their nest. The shower of time
Washed the abode,
Made them homeless.
City-lights eradicate night lull
City-sounds daunting the eggs.
O Ethnic, keep patience
There will be sunshine
We will run far,
So far, would never return
Your dwelling dismantles the tiny abode
The flock of humane shoos it
They will miss the old tree
And squeeze the recent arbor.
Copyright © Aaborta Dey | Year Posted 2014
From bebop, swing to hip-hops thing
True poets had it best
For there is a rhythm in the soul,
Which they all just had to express
Some could not control
This powerful thing
Was so often put to the test
It began to dawn coming on strong
Within the birth of a thing
Called the Harlem Renaissance
That jazz, that poetic-jazz, of intense birth
Possessing syncopated rhythms
And chronic expression of surreal tunes
That perfected blend of jazz-poetry
Developed into what it is today.
Thanks to poets like Carl Dunbar and Langston Hughes
That jazz, that jazz, that wonderful poetic-jazz
Being bred of pride, lyrical form and grace
Transcended cultural barriers
Readily accepted in the 1950’s by the humane race
Therefore, the mantra had begun to be
So freely expressed within poetic lyrics
To syncopated beats moving on through the 60’s and 70’s
By way of beat poets like Amiri Baraka
Returning strong throughout the 70’s and 80’s
Thanks to artist like Gil Scott-Heron
Oh, snap he was one of the founding fathers
Of spoken word poetry known to youngsters
Borne to free-styling or hitting the beats
On stage or in the streets
Yes, you’ve guessed it, most def its rap
Re-educating the poet in me, thanks to that thing
In which made many a heart sing
As these icons did their thing
Starting with something called modern day jazz-poetry…
Born during the Harlem renaissance and still going strong
Comments: I hope that you have enjoyed this free verse
tribute to some of the greatest modern day
founders of what is known as Jazz-Poetry.
Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2008