Best Mankind Poems
Azure-accentuated ambiance awaits aspiring artists
Baby’s birth brings blessings, blowing boredom-blues
Cool calmness charms circumspect chefs to create cuisine cravings
Daybreak dos and don’ts discipline drivers from direction-dazzles
Enlightenment-exercise empowers engineers in their endeavors...
Fiery fluorescent fearlessness fuels firefighters’ faith-fortitude’s fervor
Glowing grace of God gears guardians for guiding governance
Hope highlights health-helpers’ handlings midst heightened heaviness
Illumined instructors inspire with their influence-iridescence
Justice-jubilation juxtaposed with jurisprudence-judgment joins jury...
Kaleidoscopic kindness-keys keep kinship’s knot kindling
Light’s luster leads liberation-lovers to lift the lamenting and lowly
Morning’s majestic magnificence moves mothers with mercies'* might
Nourishing nurses’ nurture and nature negates night’s negligence
Overwhelming opportunities open officials for output-optimization...
Peace-packed period pulls prayer-partners into Providence presence
Quality quotes quiet the querulous' qualms and quixotics' questions
Redolent reflections refocus reviewers against regretful reveries
Spiritual songs by soprano soloists shut silence-stillness
Triumphant thanksgiving tops tight timetable of tenacious teachers...
Ultimate urgency upholds undaunted umpires unto usefulness
Verses vanquish vanities vying against vision of the victors
Watchfulness warmth wakes the weary to welcome words of wisdom
X rays of ‘xpertise ‘xamination x-out ‘xpectations for a Xanadu
Yes-yells yearn for youth yielded yeah-yowls from yesterdays’ yets
Zion's zephyr zooms the zealously zestful to zenith of prize-zillions!!!
*Lamentations 3:22-23 It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning:
great is thy faithfulness.
Abecedarian and alliteration forms
July 28, 2018
Edited on May 19, 2022
1st place, "ABCEDARIAN POEM" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger; judged on 6/4/2022.
The point of no return could be global or individual
but never is it in the middle.
It is a horizon of dreams aloft in hope held by tentative
strands of rope that weaken and deny what hearts are
seeking. 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, someday it might not come.
The third millennium of what?
Man is lame
clearly lost the will to walk,
he’s blind
no longer able to reason.
His fingers cast hope
upon the keyboard,
his mind creates
trends upon the screen,
he inflicts pain, a global sadomasochist
he sees others in his historical
image!
He plants his seed
most upon stony ground,
he offers peace
a twisted excuse
to deliver his belief,
he’s losing God!
He thinks he’s superior,
he’s lost the ability of simplicity,
whilst delving in ideology
akin to profit.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
I am lost
I can feel no presence
I know of no human or animal that has a measure of significance alike mine
I have a teacher
A teller of all there is to be known of the world
She has bestowed upon me the gifts of a magi
I have sailed deep oceans with noblemen and written great works with worldly scholars
All of this I owe to her, my "teacher"
But through all her wisdom I have heard or seen of no such creature
The one of whose value is as mine
I looked upon the oracle and many great libraries with scriptures overflowing
I still have read or seen of no such monster
I've heard witches speak ancient incantations
and I have sung songs with the sirens
Out of the monsters and spirits that came none of which had a significance as is mine
Upon my dreariness and woeful thought came the final place
A painting of life and death
A tale of heaven and hell at war
The purity of truth blackened by man
I saw upon them a thing of which is mine
Not upon the dead who will be missed
Nor the skeletons carrying away the dead, the ones with purpose
Not even of the severed limbs and broken bones discarded at random in the field of chaos and confusion
No, I saw my equal upon the shadows
A black being darker than silence
A causer of mischief and misfortune
A wielder of pain and sorrow
My equal is hated by all for all he has done
My equal is upon the wicked and the damned sadly he is to dumb to care
My equal of such tresspasses is a demon
My equal is a man who dressed in black kills and dies and is born again through his ashes of filth
He sees his crimes
It is because of this he wept upon his hands
His hands
The hands stained my children's blood and scared by the scratches of the innocent
But I was wrong
I am not equal to a demon, for these are not the acts of a demon but of man
That is my equal
My equal is man
My sins are everlasting
My transgressions are in stone
Man is the cause for the failure of men
Man is the cause for the failure of many!
Posted by Haley Melton at 3:37 AM
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In essence the unconscious mind,
Reveals all knowledge for mankind.
To pursue dreams, each vision brings,
Then soar above the earth on wings.
We navigate uncharted shores,
In oceans deep, mankind explores.
Now Astronauts walk on the moon,
And vaccines keep us all immune.
While seeking methods,to ensure,
Research disease to find a cure.
Now if we want to travel far,
There's railways, aeroplanes, or car.
Some might say, it's so much finer
Cruising on an ocean liner.
Or any time we are alone,
Our friends can call by mobile phone.
And television let's us share,
Events worldwide, in our armchair.
We speak with words for to converse,
But language sometimes can be terse.
In truth some minds are always blind,
With grandeur of a certain kind.
As mankind shows his cruel face,
Destroying life, to his disgrace.
By wars that escalate unchecked,
Whilst innocents, their lives are wrecked.
For Peacemakers, they clutch at straws,
To find someway to end those wars.
Their supreme efforts are in vain,
No changing minds of those insane
It seems that only peace can be,
In virtual reality.
4/22/2016.
For the Innate Magnetism poetry contest.
Sponsor. Unseeking Seeker.
Date of contest end.
Friday November 11th 2022.
Armistice Day of Remembrance.
.
As a child,
I always imagined God
being so far away in the sky, caressing his long, white beard.
I imagined Him
sometimes looking at the stars,
forgetting to focus on His most important creation: Earth.
I wondered if His absent-mindedness caused all the troubles we have
in the world today.
I imagined demons watching the diversion of His eyes very keenly….
My grandmother then told me:
“Clouds have very keen ears.
They listen to your mouth and heart.”
“Trees have keen sense of touch.
They can feel your emotions, as they brush past them”.
“The Sun has keen eyes.
It sees what you are thinking”.
She told me everything was part of God,
waiting for me to accept myself as part of God….
Everything was chaos and order intertwined in a web
we call time…
In a distant future,
A child imagined God
being high up in the universe, weaving magical links here on Earth
She imagined Him
sometimes looking down on men's creations: Virtual Life, Automated Machines.
frowning and at the same time amused
She wondered if His frowning meant disapproval of men's stupidity
or if he is amused at men's conflicts of morals
She imagined devils lurking in the humanoids planning a rebellion
Her ancestors' words ringing in her mind:
"Cameras are everywhere now.
They watch your every move."
"Walls have interactive sensors.
They can feel your pulse and heartbeat."
"The AI has invulnerable algorithm.
It sees what you are contemplating".
They told her everything was created by men,
catapulting the human race into a machine-dependent complacent beings
Everything human was diluted and morale intertwined in a virtual web
we call internet…
A Collaborated Poem with Angeline Haikutwinkle
Copyright © 2016 July 20th (Japan Time Zone)
THE CRADLE OF MANKIND.
The archaeologists of this era
Were about to excitedly find
The Cradle of Mankind
Where the origins of humankind
Had been found, the news was about
To be revealed to the whole world
And so the ears of our globe were glued
To their radios in 1947, they heard,
About this mammoth remarkable finding
Painstakingly excavated , it’s evidence binding.
Mrs Ples’s skull was found,
And with carbon dating,
Archaeologists were rewarded
Most certainly worth waiting!
Estimated to be 2.3 million years’ old.
Mrs Ples (as the archaeologists named her)
All this time had been hidden
For many a year
But there is still more to hear!
It is said that she is the missing link,
We may each think what we want to think!
Archaeologists were about to discover
Other unbelievable phenomena,
Which supported the belief of evolution,
And steered many into total confusion!
God is omnipresent, and
The Alpha and Omega, He has been
Looking down on earth for millenniums
From the beginning of time,
He is omniscient, He believes in me,
And I in Him, He is the Divine!
The Sterkfontein caves are now famous,
Planet Earth was listening, this story was big!
In 1998 archaeologists discover
Yet another important find,
This boggled the mind!
They laboriously dug in this one excavation
Over twenty years, Layer upon layer of ground
And thus Little Foot was found!
He, some say it’s a she, was gently assembled,
And lies in a Pretoria museum,
Together with Mrs Ples,
Archaeologists still dig,
They insist, that there are still hidden treasures
And take great measures,
To work carefully and diligently
Excitedly say there is much more to find
Underneath and beyond the Sterkfontein caves,
Patiently, waiting to uncover
Yet another, one of a kind!
I believe with soul, heart and being
In The Almighty, maybe He even lent the
Archaeologists a helping hand, we cannot
Ignore these finds, they are not fantasy but real
Furthermore we were given the gift of logic,
And ultimately the archaeologists will kneel,
And praise and thank God Almighty!
Feeding Mankind
We have to kill each other,
it's determined in our genes.
We have to maim and slaughter
to fulfil inherent dreams.
Fools believe man carries
a peaceful heart of sorts,
they look through rosy glasses
and never see the warts.
If everyone was equal
and needed nothing more
we'd still seek out a reason
to start a bloody war.
If nobody went hungry
had food for all their needs,
Mankind would go on killing
for on killing Mankind feeds.
Ivor G Davies
How can mankind be so evil,
milleniums of war killing people.
We've enough intelligence to be aware,
survival means we breed so we don't care.
Is there ever meant to be peace on Earth,
when life has been warring since the birth.
Accelerating evolution, propelling our progress,
yet with all these revolutions we fight no less.
After reproducing our natural instinct is murder,
it's the only thing we produce that's occured more.
We fight to win, we fall and reduce, we conquer,
we're dim fools, it's like, mankind is full on bonkers.
From Poetic Thoughts On Mankind And Its Accursed Fate
Hark! Grasp firm precious golden ray of moonlight
Wrap in heart's grip, let seep into awaiting dreams
Release it next dreadful, hellish-cast storming night
To delight in its saliently flowing bright streams.
With fervent prayers, bid high Heavens to cast down
Manna and wine to the feast-born unwashed masses
Without need for a foolish king and crushing crown
Or enslavement and wars from rebellious classes.
Flesh and blood are wont to beg unto shining skies
Filled with grieving's of broken souls and lost hope
Surrounded by dark world and deep burgeoning lies,
Ever present rock strewn dangers of its pitted slopes.
Alas! Tis it not true, chains of our mortal curse
Groom enticing pathways for us to do our worse?
Dare we this proclivity to set asunder
And thus, into redeeming light far further wander?
Robert J. Lindley, -early 70's
Edited, 9/23- 2021
( When Dawn's Enlightenment, Its Golden Rays Unto A Young Lad Gifted )From
Darkness may be an unwillingness to see
How easy to retain apathy
'Tis peaceful to open eyes
And gaze upon lies
As mankind
Dies
To not find
That courage defies
Self-inflicted, blinded cries
And shines light on truth and empathy
Darkness may be an unwillingness to see
10/22/2018
Isn't it funny how people see money
pieces of metal so very small
there's not a lot you can do
with a penny or two
money itself has really no uses at all
it used to be beads and once it was shells
at least you could wear them and buy or sell
how many have a dim view of money
pieces of paper so wafer-thin
there's not much you can fill with a note or a bill
money itself has very few ways it can thrill
its value is based on the bars of gold
buried in the basement of a bank
and whomever says whatever they're worth
is who we have thank
the root of all evil isn't money it's man
he'll wheel deal and steal to grab all he can
the more money he has the more money he needs
the root of all evil is mankind and his greed
I am reading people today.
Their faces, their smiles, their twinkles and flashes.
Their energy in the form of art, and poetry.
I am reading everyone I can get my eyes on.
I am reading poems, and stories.
I am reading their lives, and their loves.
I am relishing their heartfelt journeys.
I am vicariously living in imaginations not my own.
I am reading people today.
On the street, at work, in my house.
They all want to be read, cherishing my time.
I am spending my time on the Internet, making friends
All around the world, on poetry sites,
Through texts and emails. Through face time.
I am reading people today.
Their faces, their smiles, their twinkles and their flashes.
Written 2-02-2019 Contest: Premiere Iii
Sponsored by: Rob Carmack
Noble and proud, aboriginal heritage celebrates universal powers within us.
AP: 1st place 2026
I vowed to love mankind one night—
Beneath a wan and weeping light,
Where shadows clung to reason’s edge
And hope lay broken on a ledge.
The air was hushed with ghostly breath,
A perfume faintly sweet as death,
And through the dark, with hollow eyes,
I heard humanity’s soft cries.
“I vowed,” I said, “to thee, O race—
Though sorrow stains thy pallid face;
Though cruelty, with cunning hand,
Hath sown despair across thy land.”
Yet in that vow there stirred a dread—
A whisper from the nameless dead,
Who murmured low, “Beware the plea
To love what scorns its own decree.”
For man, I saw, in fevered dream,
Was less the light than fractured gleam;
A shattered glass of truth and grace,
Each shard reflecting a different face.
Still bowed I low—aye, lower still—
Against the rising tide of ill,
Till from the depths there came a sigh
That seemed to ask the question: Why?
Why love a form so frail, so torn,
By endless night and ceaseless scorn?
Why kneel before a fleeting breath
That dances ever close with death?
And yet—I could not turn away,
Though reason begged my soul to stray;
For in that ruin, dimly shone
A fragile light not wholly gone.
Thus vowed I long, and vow I yet—
In mournful love, in dark regret;
To mankind’s heart—so cursed, so grand—
I gave my soul… and trembling hand.