Home » Poems » Best » Humanity

Best Humanity Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Humanity poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of humanity poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Humanity poems, articles about Humanity poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Humanity poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

New Humanity Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Humanity poems are below this new poems list.

Just mercy is not humanity by chowdhury, sagrika
SAMAN GUNAN-HERO OF HUMANITY by Trifiatis, Demetrios
The Greatest Crime Against Humanity by TheKidster, Billy
EMBRACE HUMANITY by Enriquez, Leon
A CONSCIOUS HUMANITY by Enriquez, Leon
A Letter To Humanity by Acrich, Marc
HUMANITY by Rimal, Vijay
Saviour of humanity by wade, fauxcroft
WHEN YOU OPPOSE HUMANITY by musore, reagan
DEMISE OF HUMANITY by AYODEJI, ABDULFATAI

View all new Humanity Poems

The Best Humanity Poems

Details | Humanity Poem |

A Poetry Collection


Hourglass

Sand falls
Through the glass
Love falls
Within the past
Memories dance
They never last
Head in my hands
As I stare overhead
At the hourglass


Falling Down Stairs

Stairs broken
Wheels unspoken
I fell
Grasping for air
Are you there?

Piano Keys

Playing me
Rhythms dancing free
Clouds in air
Notes tossed in despair
Are you there?


Voices

Echoes
Broken wings
Wounded sparrows sing
Clinging to clouds high in sky
Chirping symphonies
Knowing not at all the why
Never loved…
Never loved…
Never hugged
In solitude wonders fly
No one
No one is there



In the Key of Despair

Tap tap
Music in the ear
Flowing freely in the salty air
Beethoven, are you there?
In the breeze, I hear the notes
My mind runs away, it floats
Pain drowned in the river
Limbs frolic on shores of hope
Keys somber in black and white
As I touch them
It conveys the fright


Strings

Choking, not me, but the air
Credenzas and waves
Washing away the realities
Of all your trivialities
Whilst I whither and fade away
Inside a musical symphony
Strangled on lusty desires
Are you
Are you there?


Sleep

Notes hither and floating in the breeze
I look up
The moon
My last breath
My last hope
My last wish
A kiss from the one I never met
The moon hides under cloud
My eyes in tranquility close
The beat no longer in time
No longer there
Where ever I am going
My last thought
Are you there?






Violins and Other Things

Distractions
Deformed from loves inaction
Teardrops falling on time
Rolling down passages
Where darkness does dine
Notes high, notes low
Treble as I grasp the clef
The conductor knows all that is refined
In the end
He shall consume the wine
As I, was consumed by time


Masterpieces

The piano full of dust
Brushes dipped in paints
Now turn to dust
There is a poem over there
In the corner
By the naked painting
Of my Caribbean liver
That cried and wept
Day and night
Night and day
When willows swayed
And the raven landed
On the sill
Of the empty room
For I am no more

Silence whispers
Are you there?


Guitar Strings and Clouds

I caress the strings of discord
Melodies shouting
Displeasure
Credenza’s and interludes
Wine intrudes
The senses squished like sour grapes
Emotions boxed in crates
I caress philosophy
As my garden sadistically does undress
Taunting the desires of my illusions unrest
The rose and the rain drop
Embrace
I cry


Last Act

Once was life
One…… tear…   one tear…… drop
One gasp of fear
Fate licking……………………… deaths ear

Details | Humanity Poem |

Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   pretend
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Details | Humanity Poem |

Childhood

Listen to poem:



    It's  a very important box
    one we will be passing on.





    bombs
    pollutionglobalwarming
    warslotsofwarshate
    racismbullyingguns
    narcissismfakefood
    liesisolationismvirus 
    badrolemodelssugar
    tonprescriptiondrugs
   






    It's our children's future
    what will we fill it with?

Details | Humanity Poem |

Seb's I Love You Eyes

Seb's young fertile face beamed African royalty
even in the penury of this Nigerian refugee camp.
Her mother's downcast eyes shunned the camera's querying lens,
while Seb's, "I-love-you", eyes were welcoming. 

Seb's eyes were as blossom-petaled obsidian pools,
each pierced by the light of a distant star.
Her blackness did not succumb to woeful displacement,
but shone with the promise of an overcoming spirit;
for a Mother's prayers were writ in the marrow of her bones.

Born with a tenacity to love,
her young heart leaped out through trusting inquisitive eyes.
Her tongue, budding out of rich dark faced soil, seemed eager
to taste the sweet juices that her spirited-eyes promised;
smiling, "l love you", behind barbed wired love-me-nots.

Seb was a child . . . full of joyful expectations.
A child who did not choose this world;
'tho born of a Spirit conceived to love . . . 
to love the . . . hell . . . out from her world.


gv 4.2015

			~~~~~~

(Note: This piece came out of seeing this fascinating photograph
by Sebastian Rich,  of Seb clinging to her Mother in a camp for displaced Nigerians.)

Caption  :  A Nigerian child in a UNICEF clinic, who was finally on the road to a full recovery after suffering from severe acute malnutrition. Her unprompted smile filled my lens.

I would encourage everyone to visit the website of Sebastian Rich.  His heart-gripping photography is incredibly moving and of great importance.

Details | Humanity Poem |

Hope

You see hope when two kids share marbles between a volatile border.


Date: 16/06/2017

Details | Humanity Poem |

Door to Nowhere

Door to Nowhere


Royalty have Chateau’s
With moats and drawbridges

Artists have colors
Paints and brushes and dreams

The poor have soup
And Marie's gateau’s

The lonely have open doors
To nowhere

I let my baguette go hard and stale
So I could stab myself with nourishment

As my blood flows slowly
Through that door with no hope

I with no rope, fade away

Details | Humanity Poem |

What Might They Find There

What might you find there
down deep in my soul
Within the darkness
of that expansive hole
Will there be substance 
Will there be diamonds or coal
Step down the stairs quickly
at the door pay your toll

If you wish to be a voyeur 
there will be plenty to see
Unclothed and oh so gorgeous
beautiful women are plenty
Yet the guilt from these carnal thoughts
makes me feel a strange empty
I long for their pleasure 
yet I yearn to be set free

Walk a bit further
see deeper to my core
You have just scratched the surface
do you really want to see more
My soul is a vast ocean
no ceiling and no floor
Liquid and expansive
molton lava shore to shore

There is plenty of love there
tremendous courage it's true
I have known my share of pain
there is much that I've been through
Roads I've traveled are many
dark alleys quite a few
I've found the way to the light
my heart is forged a steel blue

If you travel far enough
you will bathe within light
The darkness a shield
to protect this soul with might
Beyond the locked door
my soul rises like a kite
Only those who have courage
can fly to such great height!

For Frank's Contest

Details | Humanity Poem |

Dear Gustav


Oh ...

Gustav, how you pique the senses
Captured passion's plural tenses

Lovers twined in percale folds
Caught supine with spattered golds

Porcelain dolls in fetal slumbers
Brushed, sublime, in tans and umbers

Bold, the bleeds of Burnt Sienna
Stippling portraits of fair Vienna

Yellow Ochre, Prussian Green
Cadmium Yellow, Blue Indanthrene

Trees like soldiers, lilting boughs
Abstractions spun of silken vows

Ceilings meant to thus adorn
Gilded graces, Heaven-borne

Waters, tranquil - tresses, bare
A world composing textures, rare

You struggled, long, to e'er refine
Your critics and uncommon line

Subjects some then found appalling
Yet, remained, your faithful calling

Imbibing absinthe, sans a chaser
A life you sketched with no eraser

And while we mortals can but dream
You left behind your gauzy gleam

So death would not define the worth
Of genius meant to shake ...

The earth.



* FIFTH PLACE in the "Klimt" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausen, Sponsor. *

Details | Humanity Poem |

That Was a Human

Allow me to be disgusted at the jest
and your halfway happy surprise at the end result
of the missile timed precisely:

Did he just splatter?

And allow me to feel the brunt of the bruising
upon my saddened heart, where for others was felt,
from laughing hard.

Yes, all lives matter

Even the ones who don't bear
our national colors
our political expectations    no matter how wrong or right
For just this occasion let us get back to basics:

That was a human

ten fingers and ten toes
perhaps a wife and family to call his own
but do you even know?

            Or even care to think
beyond the face of it?

Getting kicks at watching the Live Leaks
of people being blown to smithereens      It bothers me
That one should find it amusing
Does it bother      You?

---a single tear of blue
is all I'm asking---

Who he was or what he did
what difference does it make?
When life closes the lid
all we have is the acknowledgement:

That was a human      A human

What if those pixels on the screen
were all that was left of that man's memory

would you still find it funny?

And yet still we turn to Facebook Enlightenment
with quotations that decorate a sniper in a holy moment ---

"And oh God. One more thing.
Ignore my enemies heathen prayers
and help me send those bastards
straight to hell.

Amen."

(The amount of "likes" are disheartening
and should be a sin.
Where's the "vomit button" ... ?)

Reading through the comment's section,
like poetry for the juvenile,
and the criminally insane.
No Alka Seltzer      No pills
I'm riding this crazy train unprotected
as if I'm dying for a thrill.

Dying ... at the very least.
Queasy at the vertigo of a nation
acting to love and loving to act

(Nineteen-Eighty-Four called,
they want their plot back)

And have you read empathy such as this?

ROFL, mate! That's classic!

(you have a doggie bag on ya, by chance?
I think I'm gonna be sick)

That was a human

A HUMAN!!!

And you call yourself a Man of God?
Yet still feel compelled
to pull back His Grace to your own ends

... that slippery tide
between your fingers

As if infinity could only be stretched so far;
it won't last long my friend,
before you look into that celestial mirror
scared at what you see

 Is that            me?

Yet still you wear that outpouring of love
on your neck like a trophy
as if you even deserved it.

a single tear of blue     just one
can you give it to me, son?

t h a t w a s a h u m a n

And do you even care?
Does it phase you in the slightest?
Or does a coat of arms
give you further reason to divide?

Jesus died for all      For all

All that upheld the American flag
      as equal to His words.
All who marched to the beat of the drums
      drowning out the birds.
All who bravely proclaimed: We are Heading to War!
                                       We are Heading to War!
And all those who never asked: And what for? What for?

Do you feel its beating on your soul?
S h  o   u    l     d
      I       t        a        l         k
          s           l            o             w?

(the unwritten verses
you added long ago)

It doesn't even matter now,
because all that remains
is what's been left on the page.

All that remains...

Just four sad words
like hopeless sand
slipping through my fingers

That was a human      (or at least it was)
Before Man forgot what he had,
Believing he could do better,
Egging the Almighty to play his game

... back to the drawing board, smirked the Creation

And what about you, Dear Reader?
What will the eulogizer speak
in your honor
when the lights out?

That was a monster
He won't bother you now

Details | Humanity Poem |

Call Of The Wild

I envy those living as part of the wild
For I too, once heeded its call
A smoldering ember since I was a child
Urge, and belonging all part of the thrall.

I’ve enjoyed the fresh taste of a sparkling stream
Felt the tremble as you push through your fear
Stood high on a peak admiring Gods scheme
Felt both delight and remorse for taking a deer.

I’ve walked for weeks through valleys and trees
Traversed mountains with lush native grass
Felt the warmth and the cold of high country breeze
Navigated tussock, forests and high country pass.

I’ve smelt autumn rain as it mingles with dirt
Enjoyed the isolation of me and my views 
Valued crude shelter while nature unleashes its hurt
Watched forest birds doing their best to amuse 

But I’m now destined to be one of societies slaves
In a world where worth is measured by cash
Where worry and stress are delivered in waves
Where those without are regarded as trash.

I felt most alive in the middle of nowhere
Now dead when hemmed by city and streets
Nothing compares with fresh mountain air
Living free, no money, bills, or receipts.

Details | Humanity Poem |

Why I Walk

I walk and walk, without talking to anyone,
I walk here and there, to avoid their stares,
their scowls, their “poor lady” pity -
Do they know I used to be pretty?
Now I’m just a dirty nothing, dirty whore,
I walk till I can’t walk anymore.

I have no place to be, no place to go.
I sit for a moment when I find a spot,
a park bench, a doorway,
the outer corner of a parking lot
But someone always comes around
and looks at me with that disdainful frown,
I walk. I walk so I won’t get caught
I walk away looking down at the ground.

I feel so ashamed. There’s nowhere I can hide.
I try, though, I try. I stand in long lines
to find a decent place to sleep for the night,
but decent places are hard to find.
I’d rather lie in the dirt at the downtown park
than fear the rats that nibble in the dark
in bug-infested rooms with urine-stained mattresses.

I eat my food real fast, then hurry on my way,
before some men come around
and try to pressure me to stay.
I live in fear for my life every night,
It’s like a fist that hovers over me, constantly,
Like the fist he used on me that day,
my body beaten; the bruises have faded away.
I walk. I walk, to get away from the pain.

I sleep in a doorway, in an alley down the street.
I’ve nothing but these filthy clothes,
and the shoes on my feet,
and I’m ok with being dirty, let me stink,
I hope I stink!
Maybe it will keep the stinking men away from me,
so I can try to get some sleep, rest my aching feet.

And then, when daylight comes again,
in the sunshine or the rain
I’ll walk and walk ...
to get away from the pain.

Inspired by Tom's "Being Homeless" contest

Facts:
Domestic violence is a leading cause of homelessness for women and their children. (nedv.org)
According to VAWnet.org, “Homeless women … are particularly vulnerable to multiple forms of victimization including forced, coerced, or manipulated sexual activity.”

Details | Humanity Poem |

Everyday is Beautiful

Everyday is beautiful, son,
and no that's not being optimistic.
You're here - you're alive - with one more day on your plate.
That's just being realistic.

Tuesdays are for Tenderness, for the little things found beneath the rubble:
a flower peeking or a new-dream seeking, even though its subtle.

Wednesdays are for Wishes --- like hoping on that pretty, pretty star,
for something just around the corner is never all that far.

And Thursdays are for Thoughtfulness, on those reflective afternoons,
where all of life hangs between your ears, as your heart struggles to make room
for all the love that's bursting inside of you ...

(I know it's there!
hiding somewhere ... perhaps beneath the dirt and muck)

Fridays are for Friendship --- to the ones who you know true,
and hold you oh so close, despite all of life's various hues.

Saturdays are for Sanctification from all of distraction's clutter;
an occasion to make small your piece of toast, for there's too much of time's butter,
spreading oh so thin on Little You.

And Sundays are for Sunflowers, and the smile that ensues on even the coldest soul.
Treasure it child, if you ever see it bloom, for she's a fragile beauty that makes you whole.

Yes, my son ... EVERY day is beautiful, and Mondays especially,
for that's the day we praise our Mothers,
for giving birth to us at such a time as this (God knows it wasn't easy)
And no, I don't need to see the Seven Wonders,
to know how beautiful life can be,
for I've got all the splendor I can handle ...

... seven days a week.

Image Used: The I Hate Mondays T-Shirt Picture

Written April 10th, 2016
For the Images Contest Hosted by Silent One

Details | Humanity Poem |

Dear Humanity:

Dear Humanity:

You know I love you, right?
Stop calling me Mother Nature!
I hate that!
Genderless am I…
Oh, yeah, I get the ‘bring life forth’ bit,
creator of new life, pregnant with your desire
…yada, yada, yada,
my womb is your hope,
my anger your demise.
You have dominion over me?
Get over yourself!
Not the life-force, I wobble,
buoy in a black sea,
world in flux.
Some of your tribes cajole me
with Songs of the Good Earth,
their rhythms heal my rivers and plains,
my blue veins, renewing rains;
good vibrations make mountains grow.
Others try to dominate me,
defile, desecrate and destroy me.
Written in the Book they say,
patriarchal sons of kings.
Climate change deniers my enemies.
Poor, dear, naïve humanity,
my icecaps are melting, oceans swell,
water will consume the land.
My extremes test your resolve.
I can live without you,
is the opposite true?
Homeostasis, my cycles of life,
the seasons my command.
Are you so balanced?
Don’t fight against gravity,
there is no escape.
Eagles soar and lions roar,
your footprints on the shore,
all these shall pass away.
So if you seek immortality
then keep your home sacred.
Love all of me,
every rock is my child,
every grain of sand a seed,
everything you do to these,
you do to me.
I am Gaia. I am home.

Prayer for the Summer Solstice 2017

Details | Humanity Poem |

Temptation Itches On All Living Things

Temptation Itches On All Living Things

Temptation itches on all living things
often nobody knows just how it stings,
not the icky-glues in its sticky pastes
nor the rotten fruits in its wasted wastes.

She the vixen nobody could resist
her vanishing pleasures - elusive mists,
long legs descend from heavenly skies
later, such dark pains in lamented cries.

Victim once thought to be heavenly bound
lost, voiceless, no understandable sound,
finds temptress, sexy wares designed to win
she that siren alluring to all men.

You scratch that itch, risking your own peril,
finding wounds that can never be sterile!

12-15- 2016


For Daniel Turner's , What Was I Thinking,  Contest
15 December 2016

Last verse inspiration, from his poem "Between the Lines

Couplet sonnet
Rhyme Scheme:  a a – b b – c c – d d – e e – f f – g g
10 syllables each line.

Details | Humanity Poem |

Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age

Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age

At that age wisdom says life is a joke
consider blindness of other poor folk.
Stop to ponder why on earth we exist
you may just find giving on that big list.

To live well, love hard and thus procreate
easy to see easier to relate.
Living life together with your soulmate
should be a part of everybody's Fate!

Finding life is not about what you got
should be holding solid, number one spot
Tis more about life lived well and deeper
with one you found, knew to be a keeper

If long life, happiness is your great aim
if reaching not for it, you are to blame!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2017
Sonnet

Details | Humanity Poem |

Joining the Pieces

Sometimes we sit alone,
quiet, trying to figure
out who carried a piece
of us with them, as we try
to put ourselves together again...


Date: 24/02/2016

Details | Humanity Poem |

I Do Not Exist

I have been erased
no face
no name
Silence invades

I speak yet have no voice
no soul
no heart
Darkness I embrace

Invisible to the mirror
Into society I peer
no one sees
what does not exist

Asleep or awake
there is no existence to partake
Possessions collecting dust
While what does not exist rusts

Who am I, that never existed
That bleeds but never lived
Murdered by love
no matter

I do not exist

Details | Humanity Poem |

The Hand of Love

The night air flowed over my breath
The covers not quite keeping me warm
Dreams caressing my past
My lover whispers in my ear

Sweet words, with her loving touch
Times long ago, where tenderness would flow
Her perfume flys away with the wind
Happy days my only true possessions

ahhh but love is not as it once was
Age makes the windmill turn slower
My lover caressing my pain
Raindrops falling, aroused in the wet rain
She my life, now I live with thoughts inane

Shivering, 
She releases me from both pleasure and pain
Dreams of her splatter all over on top
My cover only a cardboard box
Wet from the weather
in the alley where I sleep

At dawn, there is a sharp pain in my rib
"out your bum, get the hell away"
Kicked and bruised I grab what I can
All I can think of is to run run run

Limping, onwards to the park
I feel a firm hand take hold of me
Stop young man, its raining cant you see?
Shocked I try to escape, fear invades me

In a softer tone the man says
Come with me son, out of the rain
The shelter is over there, close to your park
A warm meal, and and fresh bath will do you good

Father O'Brien pats the new one Davey on the back
Welcome son, here's a book if you care to read
Davey still in skeptical mode, being treated as human
Father O'Brien see this in his heavy eyes
He looks at Davey and whispers
I was once you, you see

The hand of love
Can mend a thousand hearts
When like the seeds of blooming flowers
We spread the love we were handed

Details | Humanity Poem |

Dark Earth Folds In The Heart's Red Bloom

Dark Earth Folds In The Heart's Red Bloom

You and I and all we do
Know not, til our hearts are through 
The press of life, what things we be
Root or leaves or shade of tree.
You and I and all we seem
May be but as a drift of dream
In the eyes of One who gave
Self to love and love to save,-
Yea, all the deeds that men have wrought
Mere flower of dream, flame of thought,
Break of waves on a drear shore,
Scent of the wild rose on the moor.
Yet we have seen, and hold it sure,
That out of shame come forth the pure;
Dark earth folds in the heart's red bloom;
In vain, we build the soul a tomb.

R.J. Lindley
1976 or 77 ?

Details | Humanity Poem |

Neural Symphonies

Neural overtures
symphonies in sense-surround

Life's synaptic orchestra
firing stringed ensembles

Cosmic Concertos resound
pentatonic rhapsodies

Every man writes his own song
within time's metered signature

in peaceful chordal harmony
or embittered dissonant tritones 


geo.vuy 11.2014 Neural Symphonies 3 of 5


(Pentatonic is a five tone scale within one octave, 
used In the earliest forms of music. 
Used symbolically in this piece as man's five senses)

Details | Humanity Poem |

It

It is a horizon of dreams aloft in hope.
It is love, stirred with hate that drips need
to bleed us, heal us and force our tired cope.
It is a circle never ending, a line never bending,
and it holds questions with no answers, like keys
to kingdoms none can find to turn or master.

It is that door, the door, where dear ones come and go,
ones who carry joy, hold us, love us, then, in time
they lack reasons to feel or the want to know us, so, no, 
I mean, yes, it is not long-term, strongly rooted trust.
It is a strange, bewildering, momentous fuss
that boils in us until we bubble up our filthiest cuss.

It is same attempts in a familiar game of strange
ranging from old to presentations tweaked as new
that leave us standing without scent of a clue.
It is the reason creating all things we do and
the matter with our universal supply of glue.
It is your craziness fondling my insanity, too.

As a match, it does flame fan mankind’s fire
to rise in heat stroked red curls ever higher.
It is the silence that secrets our desires
and the stillness of hush-laced conspires. 
It causes human hands failed attempts to grab
sky-warm, star blankets, not to be human had.

It is a riddled fear maze forcing us to run,
to race by men with aimed happy guns,
to quick stride far from addicts selling sons
and slowly consider embracing those we have shun
as we forgive ourselves for all never seen done.
It is another day, and, say, here it does come.



... CayCay Jennings
December 2, 2017

Details | Humanity Poem |

Paris the 13th

Paris the 13th

Tears, my tears fall to wine
As I can not comprehend this horrendous crime
Men filled with such spiteful hate
Islamic teachings seal their fate
Kill and slaughter love and smiles
How I pray tell does this bring about
Any compassion of heart, have they no guile?

I have walked along those Parisian streets
Filled with history and diversity, such a feat
Hand in hand, people from so many lands
Dressed in darkness, blacks and grays
The massacre dancing in premonitions sway
Crusaders never win, for love will take its stand

Hundreds taken from Jesus hands
For nothing more than celebrating their great lands
Food and drink and lovers smiles
Stolen this night by hateful bile
We shall rise again, defend and stand

Our blood may flow in the river seine
However in the end its you, who is insane
We shall defend our liberty
Even if we hang evil from the tree

Père Lachaise has brought me tears
Such history over all the years
Yet here I am faced to visit once again

Paying respect to those dying in vain
My heart is fraught, with you till eternity

Liberté, égalité, fraternité


Notes: Pere Lachaise is a famous cemetery in Paris
Liberté, égalité, fraternité is the motto of France

Details | Humanity Poem |

LET ME BELONG

LET ME BELONG

I walk with the crowd, all alone,
I look at the strained faces of strangers,
the dead emptiness of their eyes,
the weariness of their broken smiles
searching for hope of tomorrow…
I follow…I follow

I have no family, I have no country,
I have no past, I have no present,
only the emptiness of my heart’s memories
of a land, once my home, now ravished by war.
With images of my past left behind…
I cry…I cry

I follow the crowd to promises of lies,
In the passing forms I see silhouettes of pain,
hear the cries of despair, shouts of anger,
I feel the tears of nothingness.
With words of silent prayers of hope…
I pray…I pray

What is my sin to deserve a lesser life,
when all I want is freedom to exist.
What is our sin to be turned away,
when all we want is a place to rest.
What is my sin when all I want…
is to belong…to belong.

May 5th, 2016
T.J Grén

Details | Humanity Poem |

Silent Lies and Deception

Silent Lies and Deception


In the silence of murky waters
There slithers oily snakes of the night
Wearing masks of deception
Beware of fools singing with Stalin’s tongue

The KGB shall set you free
Drowning you in the river Volga
The cold water keeping your lips tight
Whilst the silent ones spread their deceits

Lies, lies their dirty little lies
I wonder how their tongues wag and loudly sprout
So righteous, like imams with out a doubt
I call for radio silence

When comes the clique of hate
They say they have none, and
Maybe this is true
They run out at times, spreading it to you

Those who truly have good will and peace
Growing like flowers in a botanical heaven
Never spew the bloody insecticides here on earth
That alters the genes of peace in me and you

Beware of white sheep
That howls like the wolf at the full moon
A wise man knows the meaning of silence
Silent ones simply slither sneaky prose in the night

The Caspian Sea
Holds many ghosts who if not for death
Could tell you many silent tales
Of those with a million smiles and twisted masks

Seekers of the Silent Lies and Deception

	Dead Sea and salty tombs

		Silent in womb


Notes: The last poems Angel and Devil, about mans ability for both good and evil, I continued the theme here, by describing two repressive regimes, Russian under the likes of Stalin and Putin and the Palestinian one under Arafat. The poem is either incomplete or to be continued in a second poem, as in the end I inferred the Silent one Amina, a story about the repression and hardships of women in India. An excellent book by a great author Fiza Pathan.

Details | Humanity Poem |

A Rose by any other name ---

Through the hushed whisper of the breeze
Flowing through the majestic circling pine trees
I sense that I have stepped
Into a sacred hallowed space

A GARDEN OF ROSES

A heady perfume hits the senses
Euphoric, Exhilarating, Enticing, Ethereal comes to mind
Heaven sighs in a high frequency of vibrations
To whisk one away to never before felt heights 

An Awe descends on me
It's as if time itself has frozen
A spiritual and mystical alignment
Encased In A Timeless Capsule Of Love

Reserved for the weary of heart perhaps?
Roses from all nations scintillate in complete harmony
Where no negative emotion except love
Dares Enter

ANGELS SING FROM ABOVE

And I feel it deep in my pores
I see it in the mother who lifts her child to smell a rose
I see the artist who strives to capture its beauty
In the frail old lady whose carer brings her wheel chair close to the Blooms

In the star crossed lovers
In the older couple who stare fascinated at the thorns on the stems
Perhaps contemplating their past journey
That is now in a blissful state of BLOOM

And I wonder to myself
Since roses from countries around the world
Can bloom in complete harmony
Why can’t we as humans do the same?

Footnote:

Dedicated to my Mum, whose love for roses shone through with her peaceful nature and her love for peace and harmony in the family. 'La Vie en Rose' was one of her favorite songs.   

MAY ALL NATIONS LIVE IN PEACE

This poem Is Not about the 120 varieties of Roses represented by the best species from 120 different nations.

This poem Is Not about the beautiful hues from almost black red, to sanguine reds, pinks, orange, yellows, delicate Harlequin tri-colours of shades of red to cream or the unusual roses of  blues and even almost indigos. All these pictures you can see on the net if you look up the Ryoseni Temple in Nara Osaka which we visited on our recent trip to Japan.

This poem Is Not about the hundreds and thousands of Rose blossoms encircled by a thousand pine trees.

This poem Is About the concept behind this Rose garden established in 1957 as a living prayer for Peace and Harmony among all nations, not long after WWII.

This poem Is About the tangible positive, peaceful energy that pervades these gardens. A gentle breath of wind is instrumental to the delicate petals scintillating in orchestration and releasing the beautiful fragrance throughout this massive Rose garden.  

This is a garden that binds Nations together with Roses that are not only an international symbol of Peace, Romance and Love, but it is no coincidence that it is a species with the highest harmonic vibrational energy frequency of 320 mhz. A most beneficial and elevating energy to our well being. (Humans have a frequency of 62 mhz to 68 mhz at full health).

Let’s bring back LOVE & HARMONY people - starting right HERE.

For more on the beauty of Japan you may like to visit my poem 'Seduction In Spring - A Haiku Garland'

La Vie En Rose sung by Daniela Andrade