Best Humbler Poems
If Only Love
If only love were in our hearts!
And each person was indeed our sister or brother.
Not judged by how little or much they
have, that would be a calming salve.
If only love were in our hearts,
We would realize finally and for once,
That truly we are not colors of crayons
In a cardboard box.
But, by a Creator,of all shades made.
Like flowers near a spring, in a sunny glade.
If only love were in our hearts!
Gratefulness and sharing would rule each and every life.
Not destruction of any living sister or brother.
For we only get to be alive once, there is no other.
If only love were in our hearts!
We'd think about thee, not always me.
We wouldn't be in a such hurry to be number one.
What have we accomplished after all our coveted
trophies are won?
If only love were in our hearts!
As poets with compassion, we would comment far more.
Not read and run,praising only just winners,
And by-passing far humbler ones as weak poem quillers.
Ah...if only love were in our hearts!
August 6, 2020
9am PST
Categories:
humbler, community, humanity, love, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
In those primitive times of long, long ago
when behemoths wandered the land
when mankind was wicked and ruthless and raw
and battles were ever at hand.
An unruly unrest reigned on the earth
and rebellion was wild and free
for God turned His back on the people he made
and regretted what they came to be.
On the blackest of nights, on the darkest of days
fallen angels were cast from the skies
then entering into the daughter's of men
a new race began from on high.
So the Nephilim roamed, those aliens of old
a people of lusts and desires
warriors all, great giants so tall
reigning with blood lust and fire.
A ruthless tribe, with dark hearts inside
in chaos, they spread misery and hate
but in due time, God's patience was tried
hence, the Great Flood would seal their fate.
In a humbler man, a new chapter began
for in Noah, God renewed all mankind
with a rainbow so bright, and a heavenly light
filled with hope and new promises to find.
Written on 1/10/2018
Categories:
humbler, god, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
Lately I've been on flats, between heaven and hell
Who but the Almighty buffers me from lack
My stance is firm, I move with care
Not to tear or deplete what's left of me
As parents persevere, praying renewal of psyche
Grown children are puncturing precious time
You'd wonder why wise women still ride so high
On horses that will topple them in wilderness
What simmer souls from stilts that do silent
Damage to free will's humbler spirit?
I have learned it takes time for the clearing of
Cobwebs clouding fair point of views
Who will wed serenity and naked troth of this:
Time and space and grace heals and inspires simplicity with humility.
*
Categories:
humbler, abuse, anger, bullying,
Form:
Bio
Thou art no migrant bird, O Pink Beauty,
But forced art to fly many a long miles
Looking for fresh habitat and water,
In search of new breeding and nesting isles.
And in this search of a shallow wetland,
Ye fly hundreds of miles in patterned file.
Once there, watching ye take off on webbed feet,
Ah what a sight when ye lift off in style!
Thanks to vast wetlands getting polluted,
Despite thine number threatened art thou still,
What with habitats getting degraded,
Should ye lose out, oh what a cruel ill!
I watch when ye fly in flocks of thousands,
Then settle down sighting the right wetland
Or marshland, with friends and family bands,
What gorgeous a sight ye turn lifeless land!
And now a word about thine mating dance
That pairs of males perform to charm females—
Their magical synchronised head movements,
At climax a wing salute does regale.
It's strange, O thou Lesser Pink Flamingo,
Thou art no ‘lesser'— colour nor number,
Nor beauty, nor yet dancing style ye know,
Only size that thou art any humbler!
Soon as monsoon comes to its end, I think
Of thine flocks to turn wetlands a deep pink!
_____________________________________________ ____
Reminiscing | 21.09.2020 |
Entered for "All Yours (May 20) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Categories:
humbler, bird,
Form:
Ode
No one visited his grave today
No last respects did anyone pay
For his mortal soul did no one pray
No tears were shed when he passed away
His bank account’s balance was awful high
To accomplish this, anything he would try
In accumulating wealth, he made many others cry
But, no tears were shed when the old man died
To other greedy fools, his wealth was bequest
His last will and testament, they would all contest
To get bigger shares, they would do their best
But, no tears were shed when he was laid to rest
Beside his tomb was laid a humbler man
With many loved one’s standing hand in hand
No wealth left for his heirs to demand
Crying tears of sorrow when he left this land
I knew that rich man, but he was sad inside
I knew that other man – I can say with pride
To love them both, I truly tried
But it was for the humble man that tears I cried
Categories:
humbler, life,
Form:
Rhyme
It is not as simple as merely changing one's name
You must understand the cauldron before that came
And the hustler's hair caught fire burning into red anguish
And the water is disconnected to out the wish
Something about a mother's prayer and father's faith
Like all the islands were one Caribbean state
Jamaica and St Kitts came together beautifully in his fate
I mean the old Garveyite dead upon the track's wrong side
And from his Nebraska to Michigan the fire follows and chide
Those admitting schools where a child's vision died. Wait
Till the latch is pulled on the city's yawning gate. Here
Behold the child crushed into streets by livid fear
ii
So Malcolm by way of Michigan from Nebreaska came
Flesh "red" with fire, eyes knotted with black desire
I mean nothing to aspire to better than a street name
A pimp, a runner, a hustler and only addresses retire
From New York to Boston the criminal element slithers.
Through windows widowed of locks, and doors deprived
The white margin keeps the black space in small fetters
The heist hoist him over the humped wall showing real
Chain this time and literal boundary for a black dream
Religion is borm always in our stillness, bringing zeal
To transform our weakness, and in his a eyes a gleam
Making name and nature one in Islam's deep embrace.
Prison begins for Malcolm the new prosedy of the race.
This gentleman and a scholar, this soldier strongly suited
O glorious comes morning after pilgrimage of night
And through its light this self-made man of sin uprooted
Was Africa's apostle articulating her children's plight.
So brother Malcolm, like a native prince valiant and bright
Took on the citadel's of false history, and with all still
Stoop and lifted sultry minds of sable children with might
And with his balm of words O mended their broken will
Could you have seen him compared with himself in the fifties
Could have sat and listened to the legal logic of his mind
Humbler and humbler he became, a pilgrim in the sixties
But after the firebombing you know death is near behind
He then like his father forewarned came to their end
By tragedy, and for such only the great ones God will send.
Categories:
humbler, black african american, prayer,
Form:
Verse
Life is about having the right attitude.
Don't be known as one with platitude.
Someone who is a habitual whiner,
is not a good companion at a diner.
Life is always a much happier place
if you don't slap anyone in the face,
so you won't be a curmudgeon grouch
why don't you take a nap on your couch.
No one wants to be around a grumbler
especially one who should be humbler.
Wear a smile instead of a sourpuss frown
and from your own pedestal, step down.
One who brags about his or her work
is really just being a malcontent jerk.
If these words seem harsh and trite,
some fish are known to take a bite.
Kindness is the best way to make a friend
so stop being bitter, just make amends.
Stop being a grouch, no talk or bellyache,
and be nice to others, for goodness sake!
Categories:
humbler, encouraging,
Form:
Rhyme
Pride is a motivator, a stimulator of scarlet soul
an accelerator to the next glorious goal
generator of newcoming awakening
cultivator out cunning the unkind
cutting away all the doubts and flouts, leaving the babel and rabble behind,
a slayer of beasts and witches,
pulverizer of all that threatens my wishes,
Pride is an educator, a teacher whom need not flatter
or conspire to push passion higher,
a preacher promisin that you can be better than you thought you were,
transformer from the mediocre to a raw reformer
makin my heart the perfect love performer
romanticizer of the love battles that my Lady and I thunder
reinforcer of our durable dreams, encourager for our beautiful hunger,
Pride has weather, moving me to smile at the wind and bear the barbs of error,
an innovator of my instincts, reflector of bleeding color
It compells me to be a competitor, a finisher, and a star runner,
my blessings won't bow to humble hoaxes
my talent cannot tolerate the tamming of tragedies
my courage will not cower with the false virtue of humble hypnotism
ain't no way a honkeytonk humbler gonna wear away my sway,
my faith will not stumble upon the stones of humble wastelands,
I wasn't born to walk with humble eyes,
I'm alive to thrive with a sacred strive,
in pride I hear the voice of my Creator say, be great or die!
J.A.B.
Categories:
humbler, heart, philosophy, pride, truth,
Form:
Didactic
Scaly Kelly scrawled a scribble rolled up into a scroll
Kept it in the Dolly's baguette and waited for the fall
But Dolly was fumbler-bumbler
Constitutionally humbler
Kissed the baguette goodbye and jumped on a jumbo spring roll
Scaly Kelly © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY November 2014
Categories:
humbler, fun, nonsense,
Form:
Limerick
When you were in front of me, your eyes
cut through me, they could expose me.
It took a while, but you broke me. Just then
I caved, took my thorny heart and fled.
I have seen myself, through your eyes,
And realized, the darkest side of me.
No, you were the first to pierce the façade,
of relentless, pretentious energy.
Since then, that moment when I blinked,
I have looked inside my shallow, hollow world,
I have begun, little by little, to see,
that broken crown, in pieces on the ground.
I failed. The wreckage, the almost
moments of midnight dreams, the sleep that
never comes, the in between poetic scenes,
the burning words that say to me, am I healing?
No, but wasted space is slowly being replaced
with gratitude. What I have lost, and can’t retrace,
Is free again. What I have gained, through this new
door to my soul, there dwells a humbler attitude.
In gratitude, for what you have done. I
Wanted to find love, when I met you, my
search was undone and now, I
am renewed, and to you I am in gratitude.
Categories:
humbler, growth,
Form:
Verse
What manner of man is this, they asked,
Whom even the winds obey?
He speaks and calms the angry seas,
Yet He's humbler far than they.
To hear Him speak come thousands,
This man so meek and mild,
And yet throughout His busy life,
He still had time for a child.
They come to Him from miles around,
The sick, the lame, the blind,
And in one day He makes them whole,
Not even a scar could they find.
You've lived and supped with Me, He said,
Together we have slept;
And lo in spite of all I've done,
You don't know Me yet.
Categories:
humbler, bible,
Form:
Quatrain
What does it mean to be immersed in the waters of true love?
To be completely vulnerable; by her eyes willingly held captive.
I had constantly pondered this question in my inexperienced mind.
Having found my answer; what better way to show it than in rhyme.
Is it through pain that we show how much we truly love?
Or are we abuse in hopes of it, justifying the shoves?
Is love shown through the strain and struggle we bear?
Or has it hidden itself away as we pull out our hair?
Is sex the key; for it has not been often called making love?
Or have our desires corrupted it, losing sight of what it was?
Is love a lie told to take advantage of helpless romantics?
Or has it truly been lost; for we have grown to wise for its antics?
Love lies hidden; intertwined with the examples described.
But they all fall short, and are corrupted by the flesh inside.
So I hope in this poem we can final find what love really is.
Removing the fallacies and the lies and the little white fibs.
Patience is an attribute of love, for without it we become anxious.
If forbearance is lacking it we will summon chaos and undue distress.
Kindness is also need for love to be present; without it love cannot thrive.
A gentle word surpasses anything said in anger; for it bears no disguise
Love is with out the arousal of envy and does not care to boast,
For it has nothing to prove; though it be humbler than most.
Malevolence is a trait that is not of love, for love wishes malice on none.
Love is slow to anger; for anger only invokes actions that are not easily undone.
Love delights in the purity of honesty but loathes all things dishonest.
With distrust love cannot survive no matter how sweet the promise.
Distrust will leave us empty, with our hearts filled with great rue and shame.
But with love, the world has nothing that can extinguish it's most glorious flame.
So let us not construed love into a lust filled dimwitted game.
For we will be left with nothing to hope for; no untainted love to claim.
Be wise and heed these solemn words written by someone so deeply in love,
For there is no greater feeling than loving the angel meant for you from above.
Categories:
humbler, beautiful, i love you,
Form:
Rhyme
Nestled in the hills of the northeastern plain
live the humblest people on earth
They're the neighborly folk of Modesty, Maine
plain-speaking and modest from birth
Every year in cold mid-December
the Humble Trophy is bestowed Friday night
As far back as the townsfolk remember
it has been handed to John K. Contrite
Mr. Contrite, upon receiving the prize
always bows, blushes and pleads, you're too kind
I'm sure, my dear friends, you realize
much humbler folks you surely can find
It's the twentieth annual Humble Award presentation
Everyone assumes Mr. Contrite will win
but to thunderous applause and grand excitation
the mayor presents it to Julia-Anne Schwinn
Miss Schwinn is the town's first grade teacher
always kind, mild mannered and sweet
Some call her Modesty's finest feature
so supportive and ever discrete
It is my award, Mr. Contrite screams out
I should win every time, don't you see?
Is it not clear, beyond anyone's doubt
I am the king of humility?
Miss Schwinn shouts back to Mr. Contrite
This trophy with me will stay!
You're nobody now. Just leave, goodnight!
They'll build a modesty statue to me one day!
Nestled in the hills of the northeastern plain
live the humblest people on earth
They're the neighborly folks of Modesty, Maine
plain speaking and modest from birth
Categories:
humbler, allegory, character, funny, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
Earth's urgent need
for humbler heroes
finds unenlightened me
clinging to early fears
and angers
muttering loathing
and festering hate.
Meanwhile
Brother Integrity
and Sister Humility
notice global health potential
is already therapeutic blessing
co-arising traumatic warning
HealthClimate leading toward
win/win Integrity
and Humility
regarding past wounds,
afflicting and afflicted,
supporting
Win or Lose
Win and Lose
Healing and Hurting
unconditional regard,
uniting compassion
without cultural
religious boundaries
of health and safety consciousness.
Internal ego humility intent
and External eco-integral systemic
health potential relationship
includes appreciation,
sometimes a little more humble depreciation,
Where Ego inside
evolves integrally
organically committed
to what
and when
and why
Integrity's humble
healthcare systemic potential
bicamerally transposes
outside-health/inside-safety
cooperative compassion
Already making babies,
sustaining slowly dying rivers,
maintaining quietly crying
glaciered mountains,
retaining liberal/conservational integrity,
Left/Right anthro-humility,
bicamerally co-arising
EarthDay's primordial need
for humbler heroes.
Categories:
humbler, america, culture, earth, health,
Form:
Political Verse
1. Faith
I know people who view life through 'lenses (rose-colored),'
and others who 'trumpet' God's death with "Heil Hitler!"
The first group attempts to cloak naked ambitions
in translucent fabric and dreams their sin vanquished
(because they purport to 'forgive sin' in others).
What magic heals victims we find in bar ditches? (1)
Should these thank the Gods folks don't take what thieves left them
as we pass them by? Have dismissive acts virtue?
The second vouchsafe to say strength's owned by statue,
and gain (when gain's found) proves the province of mayhem,
claim God of this world hates the poor man, loves riches,
not Eve (Man's true mother), but choice should brand 'brothers!'
If my 'gifts' loom greater, are blood's rights relinquished?
Can children choose genes? Don't you see prohibitions?
Are you your true creation - more God's pup or **star*?
I think of "dead stars as my parent" (feels gentler!)
2. Humility
Is 'TRUTH' Christ's 'WORDS ARE RIGHT,' that our best path's a humbler
path chosen by faith, that Self-Knowledge defines 'SIN?'
To claim that you 'know' that God loves you is sinful!
Our faith can't be knowledge, for we can't grok God, friend!
Though Truth can get shared, Truth's more water (we borrow)
and that's a whole TRUTH that most egos find lacking!
Humility dictates we grok that we can't know
for 'Faith' can fool Saints! A 'True Faith' blooms by questions!
Faith shared brings real blessings as others' suggestions
illuminate corners that might host inferno
if tender collects there! I pray for Light's backing.
All shadows are sins that portend a fresh sorrow!
Faith groks that all griefs are, in Truth, more a godsend
(suggestions for growth!) Pleas, explain how that's awful!
It's GOD'S TRUTH that Christ brings us though each man's a stumbler
(TRUTH -Stumbling's not sin!) Time's New Testament's Darwin!
(finis)
Categories:
humbler, faith, philosophy, wisdom,
Form:
Rhyme