Short Free Verse Poems about the Human Condition

Enclave

A ponderously large vehicle
With darkened windows
Is ushered through
Heavy metal gates by
A dutiful sentry hired
To protect this particular
Walled enclave of wealth
Anchored in a sea of misfortune.
Pulling up to the outlandishly
Large mansion bursting with
All the amenities, the family
Gets out, walks past the guard
Posted outside, and disappears
Behind an ornate, heavy door
Built to keep the dregs out.

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Make It Fit

I try to make it fit
But in the process
Realize I am devoting
Far too much time to
Forcing something into
A box in which it
Doesn’t belong, not
Because of any glaring
Lack of merit, but simply
Due to it’s dissimilarity.

At Their Feet

They identify
Each other by their
Unfeeling eyes,
Rigid faces,
Infected smiles.
They form groups that
Attract others
Like them who are
Infirm inside and
Can only feel momentary
Relief by forcing
Their dogma on
Every living creature,
And it still is
Never enough to
Fill the hole,
Even when the entire
Planet is left
Gasping at their feet.

Two People

Two people grow up
In the same family,
In a small or large
Or medium town,
Experiencing many
Of the same things:
Schools, friends,
Environment, culture,
Experiences, perspectives,
Stories, ways of life.
One stays put,
Not necessarily physically
But certainly psychologically,
In an endless, desperate
Struggle to dominate,
Hoarding wealth and power,
Building self-worth through
Putting others down,
Making their lives worse
To make himself feel better.
The other sees the
Importance of kindness,
Helping others thrive,
Giving of himself so that they
Might not have to suffer,
Striving to build a more
Gentle world where love
And peace are the norm.
Two people grow up
In the same place.

The Chosen

Hardness smothers
The landscape, muffling
Contemplation, eradicating
Nuance. The once unthinkable
Becomes the norm, toxicity
Pervasive, accepted,
Glorified in circles shrinking
To outsiders, the chosen
Throwing a party for themselves.

Free Speech

He’s surprised and
More than a little
Offended when it’s
Pointed out that he
Has said something
Incredibly rude to
The young woman
Seated next to him.

So it also goes with
Many things he says
To myriad people in
Multiple contexts,
Spreading horribleness
With impunity under
The pretense of
Free speech.

A Life of Kindness

They’ll have you believe
That it’s undesirable
To be nice, compassionate,
But, as has been shown
Time after time,
What really counts is
How you treat others—
Whether you are able
To heal yourself enough
To empathize with
Someone else’s plight
And help them even when
You don’t have to,
The difference between
Surviving and blossoming,
A life of kindness.

Head of the Table

The best he can do,
Lash out at people who
Never had the opportunities
He did, who never did
Anything but make his meals,
Shine his shoes,
Clean his toilet.
Out of all the choices
Set before him,
He settles on writing
Things to hurt them,
To secure his place
At the head of the table,
And make sure the
Would be usurpers
Don’t get any ideas.

Irresolution

Her house in the
Distance, he wishes
He could have said
What he wanted to
But couldn’t, an
Uncomfortable silence
Filling the room
Instead, the weight of
Irresolution, impossible
To ignore or push aside.