Humanity Poems
Humanity
by Priyanka Roy
I wonder if humanity still exists
In our hearts, in our heads
Or is it still wandering
A quiet place instead?
How do we stop it
from joining Death?
It mocks us at our failures
Vulnerability, doubts, waste of breath.
......
Too Far Away
by Soumili Karmakar
Our rejoicing season is glad to have arrived
Lilacs and water lilies are all around in time.
The autumn has begun
As it seems, but the sun behind the distant cloud hides his tears
In guise of fallen dreams.
Oh, it has been a marvelous season!
For the butterflies to soar and sing the past years summer songs.
Despite, the drenching rain the sparrows are fluttering away in the wind.
I, stand here to witness the little ducklings running to the bossom of their mothers.
......
The Indomitable Human Spirit
by Thomas Gallagher
We have enslaved lightning
And thunder’s roar, defeat it admits
We have survived death’s pain
And create life with wits
For some, life is a prison
Yet they reach for freedom through the slits
Us on this beautiful rock
......
If Humans Have No Stomach
by Rafiq Pasha
Suddenly, just out of the blue,
without any thought, without any clue.
My friend lying on hammock
thought, if humans had no stomach.
Man will have no greed,
hunting for food, will not be creed.
Everyone will feel like a Czar,
there will be no dispute, and no spar.
No fear, no sorrow, everyone will be an angel,
every dwelling on Earth, will be a chapel.
......
Change
by Amanda Shelton
In the end!
After humanity has caught the last fish, after they dug up all that is left, after they cut down the last tree, and drank the last drop of clean water, only then will human beings see the devastation of their activities.
Our tears will not be enough
to hydrate and grow what we
reap and sow.
Only giving and forgiving ourselves will stop this disaster that is humanity.
......
The Harlot Of The East
by Md. Naeem Aziz
In the hour when daylight bled into rust,
I saw a young girl dragged through the dust.
Her eyes were rain, her face full of pain,
As humanity drowned in greed and shame.
Her father was helpless with fever and debt,
Coins were borrowed as time was the fate.
Then poverty sharpened its merciless blade,
A daughter's deal that made her a slave.
......
Slipping Away
by Kara Prince
When Mamaw was pregnant with Mama, there was an ugly snowstorm all down the Mason-Dixon. Mamaw drove herself from work, out of the city, and onto country roads slick with black ice, all the while dreading the hairpin turn that would bring her home one way or another. As her hands gripped the steering wheel and she wished she had sprung for those new three-point seat belts, she got a glimpse of two bundled figures pushing trucks around the bend. Papaw and his brother had helped all the passing motorists when the roads got bad, until Papaw drove Mamaw the rest of the way home.
Mamaw told me this story last week. She’s worried about me living alone this winter, and Papaw’s been gone ten years now. I wonder if Papaw went out “just in case”, or if he was waiting for Mamaw.
They’re calling for five inches on Sunday. I know that isn’t much, but you know I can’t drive for shit. I asked myself if you were the kind of man who would help the passing motorists. Of course you would, if you were already out and saw them struggling.
I’m not carrying your child, but I wonder if you would insist on picking me up from work. The thought makes me feel alone all over again this winter.
Children of Gaza
by Ghairo Daniels
Black pupils of our e y e s
melting into every soldier booted
ears of mountain gazelle A L E R T
to Palestinian mole rats
Rats scatter into open s e w a g e s
our mountain hide-outs faraway
soldiers BANG on backdoors
pupils of our eyes dilate B A T T L E
......
The Death of a Man
by Ajay Tamla
It is not the body
that withers with time,
but the spirit within,
no longer stirred
by the simple joy of life.
Man dies not once,
but twice—
first in the body,
and then in memory,
......
Luminal Spectral Bubbles
by Ghairo Daniels
“conjoined with the whole
we play our life role
exuding a scent
granting love consent” Unseeking Seeker
•
“Love waits not for granting of consent
from anybody, anything, any action or role. Love is not conjoined or disjointed. Love Itself is each role & every scent, creating both as meant. Love is p u r e A w A r e N e sS”. Poet
•
CUDDLE OR HUDDLE
SHINY BUBBLES
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