Community Poems | Examples

CHARLIE KIRK MAY THE LORD ALWAYS BE BY YOUR SIDE

   THE PATHETIC AND DEMONIC
   BEHAVIOR  OF THOSE WHO AGREE
   AND BELIEVE IN HATRED , 
   ANAMOSITY AND VIOLENCE AGAINST 
   THOSE WHO DISAGREE WITH THEIR
   PSYCHOTIC IDEOLOGIES  THAT ARE         
   DESTROYING THE COUNTRY AND
   THE WORLD WILL ULTIMATELY HAVE
   TO FACE THEIR CREATOR AND STAND
   TRIAL FOR THEIR BEHAVIOR AND CRIMES. 

   THEIR PUNISHMENT WILL EXCEED
   THEIR EXPECTATIONS AND 
   IMAGINATION . THEIR EXPULSION 
   FROM THIS WORLD WILL GO BEYOND 
   THE LIMITS AND BARRIERS OF TIME
   IT'S SELF AND THE UNIVERSE OF
   CELESTIAL BEING AND THE UNIVERSE  
   IN  WICH WE RESIDE. 

   ALL THAT WILL REMAIN FOR THOSE
   WHO WORSHIP HATRED IS THEIR
   OWN HATRED TOWARDS HATRED.

  CHARLIE KIRK , MAY THE LORD 
  ALWAYS BE BY YOUR SIDE.

   Michael E Harris 
   09102025

Wrap Your Arms Around the Earth

Wrap Your Arms Around The Earth
 Destruction around the world.
 Mother nature at work.
 Storms on the rise.
 Buildings on fire.
 Wiped off the map.
 Submerged and trapped.
 Need a heavenly blessing.
 World crisis at the brink.
 A hard life after the flood.
 Bridges collapse, going under.
 Survive After the storm.
 Many homes are gone.
 Wrap your arms around the earth.
 With so many impacted areas.
 Reach out for those in need.
 Water subsiding.
 All overwhelming.
 Another hurricane.
 Just heartbreaking.
 Nothing will be the same.

Song about Business Analysis

I map the vision, chase the need,
Between the lines, I plant the seed.
From stakeholders to strategy,
I am the bridge - that's BA me!

(chorus)
We ask, we link, we write it clear,
Align the goals, wipe out the fear.
No cape, no code, but still we thrive -
Business Analysts keep dreams alive!

Align with teams, architecture too,
Assumptions challenge 'till they are true.
Deadlines loom, the scope may sprawl -
But here we are, who see it all.

Getting a Grasp on Our Thoughts

When trying to grasp thoughts through our mind’s haze,
It’s like trying to escape a thought maze.
As the bits and pieces accumulate,
How will they connect, how will they relate?

We try to relate them to things we know.
Each thought should be placed right where it should go.
So many topics to assimilate,
We constantly add and have to update.

Without clear focus they may lose their flow,
By first burning to bright then losing their glow.
Without definition, they will not last,
Some good ideas will drift to the past. 

Give each thought it’s time, make sure it’s defined,
It will be its best when finely refined.

Be Positive

making others feel worthless does not increase the value of ourselves

As We Walk By

cardboard mattress 
concrete box spring

cocooned within the threads of shame

pillow stained 
with dried tears of despair

air pockets 
hover with a pungent force

that’s the way I remember her bed—
as I walk by.

Block Party

Double-dutch ropes slap the sidewalk -
snap - snap - snap -
braids whip air,
girls jump in, counting
uno, dos, three,
feet flick like drumsticks.
The ice cream truck jingles off-key,
icy lady shakes paper cups,
piragua man shaves ice into snow -
his knife scraping the block awake.
Pastelillos pop in hot oil -
spit, sizzle -
plastic cups clink with rum and cola,
congas crack, maracas shake salt in the air,
horns blare like chisme in heat.
Heels click-clack over concrete -
punctuating each spin,
each swirl of hips.
Whistles split the air -
one from the lifeguard at Jefferson,
two from the men on the corner,
three from abuela
when the coals are hot.
Somebody throws meat on the grill -
ssszzzz -
smoke climbs windows,
neighbors bring foil trays -
yellow rice, ribs, roasted corn -
each dish a downbeat.
Kids yell cannonball,
water smacks back,
lifeguard’s whistle cuts through splash.
Old heads tap dominoes on tabletops -
crack, slap, smack -
hands older than the stoops they sit on.
The block fills itself
the way music fills a drum -
the street hums under bare feet.
Tonight,
the moon will smell like charcoal
and sweet ice.

The Stoop

they sit outside the penny candy store,
old men slap dominoes on chipped tables,
smoke curling up like prayers
their wives gave up saying.
i lean on the fire escape,
watch them call me mami
like it’s my birthright —
call me solid, thick like the block,
hips wide enough to hold the gossip
and still swing.
they say ju got that caramel skin,
that soft bite in your mouth
when you try to say sweet —
they say i’m loud, i’m stubborn,
i argue with my hands and my hips,
i got too much to say for a girl
that comes from stoops and window sills.
but this is my gospel —
my curvy body a prayer,
my no’s a sermon,
my laugh breaks their cigar smoke,
my name rides the domino slam —
mira, mami, this girl ain’t leaving
her corner for nobody.

Dear Therapist

Dear Therapist 

She illustrates human wisdom,  her ability 
to understand predicaments  befittingly.

Wisdom is her name, She is balanced like
the scales  both intellectual,  perception. 

Her name is Sophia.

Count your blessings

Count your blessings 

Recognize one's treasures,  Every moment
in someone 's personal life is to be grateful. 
For God sends favor

No matter what the proportions or volume are.
Count your blessings. 

Don't attempt to carry the weight of disappointment 
Nor the entire world upon your shoulders, Considering 
it comes in all sizes.

Thank you for all the tears collected. Pain doesn't 
defines anyone, let the tears heal and not continue 
to form weariness. 
Count your blessings intently. 

Uncaging control is divinity rest and let the author
Be the finisher of your chapters entitles one's life.

Even if you can't see or identify his timing in the
waiting. 
Count your blessings.

Once it is far away enough

Only be distal enough from crowded stay 
The fresh and sweet of the air can be tasted
And the chirping of birds be appreciated 
Also, the dancing butterflies be exquisite

Which of the untouched are full of charms 
Such as imagined fairies shown in murals
In the corner of this, being ignored by them
No humans hustle and bustle traced at all 

By this point, I've seen the sky was so azure
And  the breeze has ever been feeling pure 
And the sea was so vibrant and so wide
When my heart could fly so quietly and high

Wording Blood : specular verse

I word the blood that freed our land

                      breathing opens minds which are 

partly insane

                             popping midnight blue on cue

                                       splattering palms moist

                                       hoisting what is true


onto blank page as unhealed rage

                          this theatre an expanded oyster 

 Pearl becoming translucent 

                             ¥¥

glows pink silver the waiting Pearl to hurl
         
                           theatre seats are empty cold

rage evaporating with poverty 

Truth  speculatively mature

                       palms wrinkled warmly

             cool blue a crying sky afar surfing

insanity protected his Heart  

                          my blood runs a River of Stories 

                             ~~~~~~~~~

Alone in a Crowd

I crave for anonymity,
hating being all on my own.
I want to feel I'm fitting in,
yet don't have the guts to comply.
To make a stand is curse and crown.
To join the sheep – tame and hollow.
To ride the tide, go with the flow,
keeps powder dry 'til tomorrow.

The Incantation of Geometric Symmetry

I belong in rings
circles of my whispering
each chant at tangent—
across the diagonals
charting my awakening

I use rhythm to draw
compass lines on virgin ground
breathing a mantra
to recite faithful sketches
that arc over the dome shroud

triangles of doubt
erupt within the echo
edges turned inward
yet this sharpness finds its place
when confined in the circle

what would shapes become
without their opposing sides
a square needs four sides
a soup bubble shape trembles—
balance born in symmetry

in the polygon
of opinions gathered there
angles speak at once
each playing a vital part
swayed by the container's form

within the circle
infinite as mandala
voices radiate
from faith as a central star
blazing signals of pure light

Shush! Act Like Nobody's Home!

Does...Misery Love Misery?

Does...Company Love Company?

OR...Does Misery Love Company,

LIKE...Company Loves Misery?

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Poems Related to Community

neighborhood, center, district, people, company, nation, society, state, public, association, commonwealth, commonality, locality, populace, colony, hamlet, turf, territory, body politic, neck of the woods, residents, general public, stomping ground, semblance, likeness, affinity, kinship, identity, sameness,