Humanity. Poems - Poems about Humanity.

My mind simmers— a volcano, waiting. Maybe it erupts, maybe it just holds, a silent threat behind every blink. It takes everything— to stay still, to not burst when no one else feels the fire licking the edge of my thoughts. Decisions burn before they’re made— Is it right? Am I right? Will this moment become another mess to clean alone? Life spills like paint no one asked for— a blur of colors no one...

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Line of inquiry: "hearts set up a vibration echoing as wordless intent mind translates in symbols flight of our soul’s ascent is intent then a stirring of soul with God conferring" My one heart as a part of humanity's great heart, spiritually holds the indwelling God presence as sought. A human hold shiftily slants and grows knots tied fraught with false-held, gloomy feels that...

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The human race desires wealth and power Our souls grow corrupted more by the hour With common sense it comes as no surprise By our own hands insure our own demise...

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A tree needs sun, water and soil gives back its fruit... and its shade on a hot, sultry day A bee needs...

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The world now is overflowing with filters, fast five stars, and a multitude of clickbait. Society has become an abstract definition, devoid of any type of civilized boundaries. I want the honesty of naked conversation and the ability to discover truth for myself. We have a license to be phony. Go on I dare you, take off that mask....

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Sheep that follow leaders and wear wool, sadly, often don't live a life that's full before the part of them that does remain trades in their wool for cellophane....

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Between the death and birth there is absolutely an unknown period of time; But for the time, you have a little value, just like a dime; And if you are a real ding-dong, you are likely to think that it will last long; However, look and see how fast your days goes by, that’s why today is a good time...

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I have known the hollow silence of empty hands, once full of gold, now dust and fading strands. I gave my heart in seasons bright and fair, helping those in need, with love laid bare. But when the coins ran out, the doors grew cold, no pennies left to buy a dream or hold. Help came shackled, wrapped in debt’s tight...

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Hard considerations for the future of mankind The bard sings commiserations as he looks for what he cannot find A shard of intimidations hurled toward the innocent and kind A card that invokes incantations as they question the lucidity of her mind A lenient life sentence to constantly wonder through philosophical terrain The convenient repentance of a...

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Don’t tell me change is impossible. I’ve done the math. 3,000 people. $10 a week. That’s $30,000 every week. Invest it wisely, even at 3.25%. That amounts to $1.6 million per year. Enough to start a small business annually. Enough to buy homes outright. Enough to give dignity without debt. And if thousands of groups did this? Poverty wouldn’t need handouts. Governments wouldn’t bleed through welfare. Education, health,...

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Glass-foot by Gabrielle Munslow She kneels on glass. Two jagged rocks, hidden—clenched behind her back. Secrets. Her mouth open, not in benediction but for unholy things. He looks down—unkind. She rises, smashes the rock into his skull. Hallelujah escapes her breath. She was shackled to desire. But her mind wandered. Wrote verses behind her eyes. Words curled in corners, caught fire. She fought back with poetry. With flame. 2 / 4 Cracks...

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I've been fed a prune of life, Spooned it silver, everlasting. I spat it out to seek a knife, To chop and cease it of forecasting. The birth is reason as much itself: Not 'yond the self conceived. Wrote for book on busy shelf, Whose tales unread aren't grieved....

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Love, while at first sight is also a journey of generations -- sort of like, a flash of hate has its roots in heaven and the Fall. I guess, what I am trying to say is, any moment holds the conglomerate of all – all that is, has been; and, I suspect, what is yet to be. So then, I...

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A cloud bursts, and the earth drinks -- the sun shines, and the earth ripens; the moon, sanctuary of werewolves and Love, keeps alive our fictions. ...

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Life is a fire I'm the ingredient Stuck to a pot When will I be poured in The ingredients are different Some are big Some are small Some are black Some are red Some are brown Some are white Some are yellow Different ingredient but one pot Life is a sea I'm the stream Flowing gently to the sea When will...

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