Long Humanize Poems
Long Humanize Poems. Below are the most popular long Humanize by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Humanize poems by poem length and keyword.
In the narrow corridors of lost time,
where light seeks its shadows in dusty corners,
words sit like butterflies with heavy wings,
suffering under the weight of unspoken silences.
In the silent cells of a forgotten world,
my books traverse walls, like birds searching
for the sky in a windowless world,
trying to free thoughts trapped in chains of paper.
I wrote for those who bear invisible burdens,
for those who find solace in lines,
but literature, a mystery to the ordinary mind,
weaves into the soul like a forgotten melody,
a song even the rarest of us
cannot understand without feeling its pain.
Poetry, a labyrinth of emotions,
sheds complicated meanings,
leaving behind clear, human words,
like an honest gaze in a world of masks.
Williams called for clarity,
and I followed, seeking to open paths
for those who have forgotten how to see.
But writing is one thing, life another,
we improve the words, but our lives
remain stuck in the same patterns,
like birds repeatedly striking
the glass of painful transparency.
Perhaps, by writing better, living more beautifully,
we will make life ashamed of itself.
Maybe artists were never strong enough,
maybe those who rule the world were too strong,
and we, pale and precious,
let words flow like a river
never finding its sea.
But art, in its intimacy,
bears the same burden:
women, governments, God,
love, hate, poverty, slavery,
insomnias and roads without destination,
times and spouses, and all the rest…
A man in a cell dislikes how commas dance,
how words stray from their path
to capture the exact essence,
without knowing the intention is to relax, to humanize,
to make words like butter or avocado,
something you can grasp and taste,
like a simple and nourishing meal for the soul.
Art may wander, but it keeps the essential form,
like Dostoevsky or Bach,
who taught us to layer melodies
one over the other, creating a symphony
of hidden meanings.
I do not defend my work, but the right to create it
in a way that makes me feel alive.
A writer's boredom is the reader's boredom,
and perfection is just a myth,
an illusion keeping us away from the truth.
You, in the neighboring cell,
receive this letter as a gift,
as a whisper of hope and freedom,
for art needs only the freedom
to be itself, imperfect and real,
in a world that forgets to listen.
“Over 320,000 children under five now stand on the brink of collapse—
grasping for food that no longer arrives.
Schools lie silent—97% damaged, their futures paved in rubble.
In May alone, over 5,100 children were treated for acute malnutrition.
Over 18,000 children have died; another 45,000 wounded—some missing limbs, some missing home.
Every day, more children lie lost in famine, displaced, or gasping for breath”.
Last week I met a home security technician,
He said his name was Hamad, I heard it wrong as Hamas,
Although he works hard and lives in USA,
He was proud to say he was a Palestinian, from Jerusalem in Israel.
Palestine was the ancient land of God,
Adam and Eve lived and tasted the apple which grew there,
It was a land of peace and wisdom,
Till politics destroyed and divided the nation of Palestine.
Hamad contributes whatever money he can save,
To feed the hungry children of Gaza,
He can not eat Kababs and Shawarmas,
When he sees hungry children and parents looking desperately for food.
In the ruins of dawn, where laughter once played,
Children rise—not to school, but to haunting haze.
Tiny hands reach for nothing but dust,
Their dreams broken, swallowed by hunger and rust.
Once, they sang under the olive tree—
bodies light with song, hearts unburdened.
Now the branches stand silent, leaning over empty schools and broken tents.
They wait for olive-picking futures, now harvested by time’s neglect.
Even as famine steals their breath,
their spirits bloom under rubble-laden skies.
Their absence echoes louder than their presence—
every empty swing, every closed school door, every lull in song.
We must not turn away. At least donate some money for the starving kids.
Donate at wck.org or your favorite charity.
Let this poem be more than words—a call to witness, to humanize, and to act.
Every day...in fact, every 15 minutes,
someone, somewhere in America
picks up a gun and kills another person
for reasons unfathomable
It's a harsh, scalding reality...
Every now and then in our society
someone who shouldn't have an assault rifle,
takes it to school, or into a bar, a shopping mall
and starts using people as target practice
It's madness; a new normal!
Cowardly captains of complacency
in Washington continue to kick the can
down the road and feign interest
in gun reforms. Their cavalier disregard...
for domestic terrorism is beyond the pale!
Gridlock in the Senate means more casualties
from mass shootings in the future and GOP
politicians will keep playing armchair psychiatrists,
tagging the next active shooter as "mentally ill"
Why humanize them all? Some are heartless killers!
Mitch McConnell is as Mitch McConnell does,
as you and I know. "President" Trump is too busy
jumping from one scandal to another
to do something about gun control
Now he has his impreachment to worry about....
Campaign promises he made, still unkept.
Actions to be taken, he leaves to chance
with a predictable "We'll see what happens"
That seems to be his favorite go-to one-liner....
"We'll see what happens"?
I see nothing happening anytime soon
to curb mass shootings in America, do you?
It's very hard to make things happen...
when Washington is broken!
Date written: 09/30/2019
Ode to John Morgan of Morgan and Morgan
Oh, John Morgan, a beacon of might,
A champion who battles in the fight,
For injured souls who seek respite,
You shine with diligence, your guiding light.
In courtrooms' hallowed halls, you stand,
With firm resolve, a righteous hand,
Advocating for those who endure,
Injustice and pain they must endure.
From dawn till dusk, you toil and strive,
For justice, you're always alive,
Fighting against the wrongs they bear,
With utmost passion, you truly care.
Through sleepless nights, you craft their case,
Unyielding, with a steadfast pace,
Gathering evidence, seeking truth,
Ensuring justice for their plight, uncouth.
You stand as a shield, a shield so strong,
Against those who've done grievous wrong,
Your voice echoes, firm and clear,
Demanding recompense, dispelling fear.
With unwavering dedication, you pursue,
The highest recompense, just and true,
Every client's pain, you empathize,
Their suffering, you humanize.
From the shattered dreams to wounds so deep,
You navigate the legal tides, fierce and steep,
For every tear that's shed in pain,
You strive to heal, to right the stain.
John Morgan, your passion ignites,
The path to justice, it takes flight,
Your tireless work, a radiant force,
Empowering those with no recourse.
In the realm of law, you've left your mark,
A symbol of strength, a mighty spark,
Your name echoes through the years to come,
As a hero for those left undone.
So, here's to John Morgan, a legend true,
A warrior for the injured, through and through,
May your endeavors forever soar,
As you fight for justice, evermore.
Restless hand of poet rejecting moments of idleness,
start writing and empty the unbearable heaviness:
and as the splashing waters of the waterfall plunge down
the precipice for an escapade into the distant ocean,
they must leave the deepness of intellect
and become a realized concept!
Without an imagination of expressive power, you lament is ceased by anguish,
and will lay here voiceless in its impatient oath,
not bursting within its walls of imprisonment,
to find its evasive freedom and finally succeed in imparting wisdom:
when readers rather focus on their content,
than on the richness of their words that don't ravish...
Restless hand of poet, never write in impetuous haste,
to impersonate another voice in an impersonal tone;
be prudent in choosing the right ones that are plausible,
not impinging on the impeccable thoughts of others,
challenging them to innovate their ingenuous taste!
Restless hand of poet, improvise your incentive ideas
from articulate feelings without implying or impeaching gall;
impetuous cries can and will cause a rage so implacable!
Be impervious to each plea, reflect and understand
the importance of patience when something may impend;
immortalize that event with images that idealize,
ignite, inspire, delight and describe experiences that humanize!
Take your attention away from the hour-glass,
no days from can be removed from your purposeful existence;
rebuke your idiocy and mend your self-confidence!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
“Its Given”
Its given living life intentional I awake daily in attunement living life on a purpose for a purpose
Germinating my flow
My ambition is struggle driven
My strengths derived from resiliency is flamboyantly noticeable its given
Im colorful so if you dont understand me its because we are all singly uniquely woven
Our reasoning may appear diverse its due to the separate lives were living but its given
That you are you and I am me
Comfortably positioned as what our creator and character has defined us to be With inevitable cultural engraving
Ancestral imprints of enslavement oppression pavements
Its given resiliency
You are you and I am me
Fearlessly and wonderfully made to stand as one in unity and love through these perilous times
So I shine my light and humanize life by vocalizing
My voice towards a more positive wholesome choice
Combating against the enemies hate and loud overwhelming noise
A beacon of light to penetrate, motivate and inspire those that can relate Breaking lost souls free from bondage
At one point I was captive hidden in silence
I subjugated the trauma and prioritized my hurt
Sifting through my dirt I dug up my worth
No more comparing today Im comfortable in my own skin No matter my failures or imperfections
The reflection in the mirror positively affirm that I can win
revelations to articulately convey the words to heal
What is given that you are you and I am me
Walking down the same road with dissimilar backgrounds
I feel I've had an advantage because I live alone
and a lot of my socializing, lately, is on the phone.
Working from my home has not left me jobless
That's why I feel the need to open up and confess
I'm better off than those burdened with stress
so I've got no complaints or reasons to bemoan.
It has been an eye-opening experience for me,
not understanding why so many people disagree
about keeping others safe and free from a disease
by the simple task of wearing a mask. So, PLEASE
comply and the world will soon rise from its knees.
Covid is a beast to kill, and it's our responsibility.
I've learned to be self-sufficient. It's come in handy
for now I tweak my recipes by adding a little brandy.
Seriously, no longer do I take anything for granted...
I'm missing family and friends, and I'm disenchanted
by those whose views have become a little slanted,
by pretending everything will be just fine and dandy.
My philosophy about isolation hinges on our attitude.
It's time to work together, and brotherhood renewed.
Humanize your heart and stop placing all the blame
on one thing or another. Many should feel the shame
of mocking the pandemic as an illusion, just a game.
We need to value the worth of life; or we're screwed.
Posted ~ July 30th, 2020
Isolation Philosophy Contest
Sponsor ~ Chantelle Anne Cooke
what planet could this be for boys of ten
and then one hundred
movement felt,
looking at the hardened grain
of hands caressed
with fingers pressed against themselves
absorbing stillness’ breath
suspended in each air a pair
of warm yet liquid-frozen thoughts
captured
then released with care
youthful power to devour light
whose distance now
becomes serene
a slow suspended scene
in the moment captured
stretched like bubble gum or taffy
compressed
into the thinness of a dime
time
rolled between the fingers
ridged and perfect soft
wrapped
as cigarettes unsmoked,
moving miniature rolling pins
of skin like bread
gathered sweet
and then,
a fence to sit upon, a wall to scale
grains of surfaced roughness
where the smooth compare
the toughness of their skin
to skin a shin
upon a polished youth
with broken glass of bottles blowing
tins and rolls all gathered in
their stripes and plaids
and paisleys worn -
attempts to humanize
collateralized machine
we all want out, sometimes,
we all want in.
Religion was the juxtaposition
the central point of our vision
the direction the difference
always destined for distance
Now I see and hear humans
emotions, and how I use them,
they were gifted our given,
that now after 20 years isn't
And I feel our united core
a vision to build us from all war,
what you lost now, we'll give you more
Afghan born dreamers, dream the way of us all!!
And America, if you are global,
every choice is for the local,
build their nation, roads, homes, SAME FOR ALL!!
freedom, each pocket,
protected, enforce it.
they are no stereotype, not an alien,
but our race, humans we humanize
showing love, emotions, fair giving and take,
seek together, for the unknown, as the next unknown awaits.
That failure belongs with American scores,
being hopeful, then it's woeful, the power is false,
the plan, your politics, corrupt funds, you failed in it all,
you left after learning for twenty years you were fooled
The Great American Military Might Be,
Gone if the fight and thought line brightly
Somewhere there is the greatest day you will ever have
to mention this superlative does not convey by half
the exquisite satisfaction in obtaining your desire
freedom from cemented circumstance of which you daily tire.
Somewhere there is the greatest thing you will ever see
to dream and visualize it brings on pure insanity.
A picture deep inside your mind would cause the heart to burst
so, you try to give it little thought and let the fates rehearse.
Somewhere there is the finest moment ever to occur
that will change the charted course and cause new events to stir.
In a fashion that is favored by everything around
you’re astonished by your words and the power of their sound.
Somewhere there is the finest person you will ever know
you ‘ve felt them everyday develop, humanize and grow
by the many pains and challenges time has brought their way.
When you look into the mirror this will be your greatest day.
1/29/19
ULTIMATE JANUARY 2019,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,UPTO MAX OF 20 LINES Sponsor Brian Strand lst place