Best Humanity Poems
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 mind every day
Passing along appeal
continuing to fit in
blend in
pretend
force program
Is it just me or
am I the perfect human?
Evergreen flavored mantras
did nothing to purge bitter bile from my lips
nor slake the smoldering thirst for a Rosary remedy.
Tick-tock petals unfurled one by one
as your poppy shed its last sepal
releasing a scarlet sigh across sunset skies
whilst I placed a tender kiss upon your twilight.
If but for your gossamer bloom in persimmon perfection,
I would not hunger for your ambrosial whispers
nor rue the earthly drought of undying nectar.
I stray, a waif lost with my armful of loss,
blind behind the tear-rusted folds
of a weeping veil’s eclipse.
My psyche a pauper
rich in the poverty of penniless promises,
empty as echoes in hollow holes
ringing with wringing reverberations.
In the grasp of atheist fingers I clasp Holy beads
tilling cries and whys.
Every tear a sorrow sown in brambles,
whose sloe fails to ripen sweet redemption
in the fertile sham and barren sand of my humanity;
crushed by the tusk of this damnable dusk.
Susan Ashley
April 13, 2020
~ First Place ~
February 5, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 9
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Your Best Poem Ever
Sponsor: John Hamilton
~ Seventh Place ~
Premiere Contest: Crushed
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
~ First Place ~
Standard Contest: Your Best Free Verse 2020
Sponsor: John Hamilton
American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf
Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
If we don’t feel with our hearts, we don’t belong
If we don’t see as one, the world is wrong
Beyond the wars and the hate and the insanity
We are all connected as humanity
We are the child with cancer who still wears a smile
We are the kid from the projects facing trial
We are the pregnant teen feeling lost and used
We are the elderly man in a home abused
We are the young couple, marriage on the rocks
We are the homeless one in a cardboard box
We are the cold and hungry, sad and depressed
We are the lonely child who never felt blessed
We are the woman whose life was filled with pain
We are the man standing alone in the pouring rain
We are the child who struggles day to day
We are the teenage girl who ran away
We are the soldier killed in an unjust war
We are the young man who can dream no more
We are the inmate locked away for life
We are the old man who has lost his wife
We would be better off without our vanity
And have a sense of belonging to humanity.
“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”
Plato
Politicians keep lying
Hate keeps breeding
Jets keep firing
Babies keep dying
Mothers keep crying
Homes keep tumbling
Hope keeps crumbling
Time keeps ticking
Injustice keeps screaming
Funerals keep delaying
Peacemakers keep meeting
Media keeps shocking
Propaganda keeps faking
Tanks keep bombing
Earth keeps shaking
Fear keeps spreading
Soldiers keep fighting
Widows keep weeping
Sorrows keep growing
Babies keep dying
Mothers keep crying
Tears keep flowing
Hunger keeps increasing
Journalists keep reporting
Poets keep writing
Music keeps playing
Teachers keep teaching
Clergymen keep praying
Preachers keep preaching
Protestors keep protesting
Faith keeps searching
Peace keeps fading
Ignorance keeps showing
Missiles keep shooting
Humanity keeps bleeding
World keeps sleeping
Babies keep dying
Mothers keep crying
Come walk with me,
for the path cares not,
the age of your feet.
Look at the butterflies on petals,
their silence does not care,
the language you speak.
Listen to the orchestra of birds,
they sing with sincerity,
care not if you follow God.
See how the trees stand so tall,
their mature branches care not,
about your wallet's wealth.
Feel tiny raindrops kiss your face,
their refreshing mercy cares not,
for the vibrant colour of your skin.
Let's bathe in calm waves,
for their ripples care not,
if you are a boy or a girl.
Relax in the glory of the sun,
it's warm rays care not,
if you are blind, deaf or mute.
Drink from cool spring waters,
for its juices care not,
who's mouth hydrates from it.
Here, hold my pen,
for the ink will never judge,
how you express your scars.
In darkness, let us lay together,
to gaze at an abundance of stars,
they care not, how you spell your name.
They shine for us all,
regardless of the moon.
Sunday Musings
Silent One
8 November 2020
This is an example for my current contest, 'There is a star with my name on it.'
I took a unique angle to it. I do not expect poems, similar to this one.
Sit with me.
Sit with me, ragged feral,
do not be afraid,
fight for no space uncertain,
you will be soothed, you will be safe,
you only need sit with me.
Walk with me.
Walk with me, stray mongrel,
do not remain unwanted,
contest no feeding rights,
you will be fed, you will be warm,
you only need walk with me.
Speak with me.
Speak with me, forgotten pariah,
do not languish discarded,
fear no further shame,
you will be heard, you will be seen,
you only need speak with me.
Lie with me.
Lie with me, downcast woman,
do not spiral into the abyss,
hold no omnipotent hurt,
you will be held, you will be loved,
you only need lie with me.
Stay with me.
Stay with me, you disaffected,
I will nurture the love
and banish the woe,
for an angel of succour told me
that a little kindness never hurts.
27th November 2018
Written for ‘A Little Kindness Never Hurts’ poetry contest,
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
Remembering when
Perched high above on rocky crags
Cliffs weathered by times handprints
I saw far and wide to distant shores
Tendrils of desire radiating outwards
Riding the briny mist
Being carried by the breath of the ocean, my constant companion
Hearing the distant voices, the silent tears
The bursts of passion ~ love and loss
I ride the wings of hope and change
Towards the beckoning landscape of
Creation, mystery, and nuance
A vibration fills the air
The quiet chanting of our ancient brothers and sisters
Their words floating in effervescent bubbles
Tinged with melodies so clear
We are one ~ We are here
Let us bathe you in light
Let us heal your wounds
Let us give you hope
We are all mirrors of one another
We share one breath
We are connected like the mycelium under the ground
Our journey is peaceful
Come to us with your pain, your heartache,
Your fear and your loss
We are here to listen
Our ears and hearts are open
You have come to a safe sanctuary to reveal your secrets
Your darkness, your desires, and your bliss
Without judgement
This is a time of renewal
Tiny green hummingbird lays lifeless on the ground
Surrounded by new life
Glittering musical notes sound as
Pink butterflies gather
Gentle wind of wings bringing change
Warm rain falls as we make our way
Through the kaleidoscopes of turquoise, teal, lime and chartreuse
Sunlight reflections
Moss, furry seedlings, and ferns
Intertwine dancing in the shafts of light
A steady illuminated procession
Sweat running down our bodies
We are a train of humanity pushing forward
Through the dense moist jungle
Coming upon a clearing to witness
The newborn baby girl wrapped in velvet greenery
A majestic glowing beacon shining her light
On all of us
Howling
The chatter of monkeys as they scramble down limbs to join us
We feel her heartbeat
We meld into one another seamlessly
Swaying gently in unison
To honor, rejoice and celebrate
Receiving the gift of what it is to be human
Slowly the child is lifted into the air
Aloft on fingertips of joy
The Circle of Life begins
And we return to the simple act
Of loving and giving to one another
Into eternity
Wild spirit -
I cherished you tender
within my halo of prana;
careful not to hurt you
as I worked to set you free
using hands of peace
in harmony
with my heart's song
I beheld your fragile form
of freedom lost
as your panicked eyes
pleaded release..
and in those precious
and few sacred moments
I felt you relinquish
your fight or flight
to my mission of mildness...
a unifying lesson of love
befell us that day
as we exchanged gifts -
and when again you flew
through reflective silvery winds
on turquoise wings anew
we elevated in mindful mercy
to compassionate heights
in revered reverberations...
gratified to be reborn
in your new found freedom
Susan Ashley
October 7, 2018
It's a very important box
one we will be passing on.
bombs
pollutionglobalwarming
warslotsofwarshate
racismbullyingguns
narcissismfakefood
liesisolationismvirus
badrolemodelssugar
tonprescriptiondrugs
Our children's future
what will we fill it with?
Shadow not over the words of love
Love is a language known only to the heart
Hear it in the wind and the birds above
Paint it on a canvas skin and call it art
Eternal beauty walks among us all
Seekers of knowledge may know its name
But true wisdom lies in hearing its call
As the oceans cause the moon to wane
Its gentle touch, abundantly crystalline
Euphoric in nature, its secret is kept
With its healing powers all part divine
Though many an angel from love has wept
Compassion and caring, make love's trinity
And kindness a guide that leads to bliss
So make love your one and true reality
For you are worth much more than this
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 scapes 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
life you sketched with no eraser
and while we mortals can but dream
you left the world your gauzy gleam
so death would not define the worth
of genius meant to shake ...
the earth.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Klimt" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausen, Judge & Sponsor.
I fear as I drip my word
Teardrops would be overheard
No verse shall set its rhythm or whine
I dread my anguish is seen as I rhyme
Whatever deep into my soul unable to mute
I wholly surrender to the magic of the flute
To bring the sublime into the mundane is insane
My world of poetry, in your glossary no word for strain
Blind to the divine truth we wander astray
Tempted by sick feelings we fall an easy prey
Of all the stages, one and only age
When the Self falls into the clutches of rage
Granted is the time to ponder and reap
What is sown of seeds of wonder so deep
I’m not the wise of these keywords beauty
Just an ardent learner of Mother Nature’s bounty
*****
Hope inside shall reside
Faith can stand the whole ride
Pain to the word would subside
Brave hearts survive emotions tide
Retired souls in rhyme confide.
The butcher came for the sheep
the cow did not moo, she wasn't a sheep
The butcher came for the goats
the cow did not moo, she wasn't a goat
The butcher came for the pigs
The cow did not moo, she wasn't a pig
Then the butcher came for the cow
her bull and her calves,
The rest of the farm was eerily silent
Remembering the poem of Martin Niemöller
"First they came …" a post-war 1946 poem written in prose by Lutheran pastor Martin Niemöller, who was a German (1892–1984). In it he speaks of cowardice which German intellectuals as well as some of the clergy felt in the hellish nightmare of the Jewish people. In this poem, by his own admission, a coward, looking away during Hitler's rise to power. In my own rendition of a farm, compared to his, is rather ridiculous. I just want to acknowledge his poem at this time in history. Please pray that God give our leaders insight, and clarity on what must be accomplished. Please pray for the people of Ukraine, and, please look the poem up.
Fire catches fast, then sweeps through grass and trees.
The lion of the elements, it roars,
and burning hot, displays its awesome might.
Fire signs are one of four triplicities.
Bravely, like lions, those of fire will fight.
A fire-born person is one who adores
his life, and what he wants he’ll simply seize!
The element we need to breathe is air.
This carrier of currents none can see
is spaciousness surrounding everyone.
Those born of air may seem aloof! They’re where
they need to be; their thoughts float toward the sun.
They analyze and then effectively
communicate to us because they care.
Sweet water! Always we can see it flow.
It flows to sea; it ebbs, then flows again.
Without it, plants and animals would die.
Those born to water are the ones who show
emotions freely. Hear them laugh and cry!
They touch our souls and give us solace; then
entreat us. . . let imagination go!
Earth, the final element, is the land;
God put us here with feet on solid ground.
Sustaining us, it gives much that we need.
Those born of earth are stable, for they stand
for practicality. They plant the seed
of reasoning. Four elements abound.
When they’re in harmony, life can be grand!
Written Feb. 9, 2016
for the HUMAN NATURE - 4 STANZA, 7 LINE Poetry Contest