Short Free Verse Poems about the Human Condition

Group

It’s always so great when everyone
In the group falls in line, goes with
The program, follows the rules,
Laughs at the same jokes,
Talks about familiar topics,
Understands the same references.

A group of high school students
Eyeing each other, clamoring to
Be heard, preening, posing, straining to
Get along until one word, a look,
A perception, pierces fragile skin.
Cracks appear, filled with hurts.

Get the Poetry Collection
Unconventional Being - Minimalist Poetry Book by Guy Farmer

Readers around the world have found pieces of themselves in these poems. Discover the collection.

Get Your Copy on Amazon

Vengeance

Banished indefinitely,
Sanctioned suffering.
Bloodthirsty do-gooders
Protecting suspect reputations,
Unhinged egos.
Overzealous pursuit,
Blind lust for retribution,
Information manipulation,
Malfeasance rewarded.
Blackout curtains obscuring
Glaring innocence.
Sleazy scam victimizing
The powerless,
Normalized vengeance.

Wails

Shadowy miscreants
Pulling strings from
Perches high atop
The oligarchy.
Narrow gnarled psyches
Bent on grabbing everything,
Leaving everyone else
In tatters.
A world birthed by
Utter greed,
Nothing ever enough,
The wails within
Never satiated,
Smoldering ruins of
Entire civilizations
Left behind.

Opportunity

A kind gesture, friendly hello,
Warm greetings, fond memories
Shared, messages exchanged.
Implicit, comfortable trust renewed.

A unique opportunity to translate
Goodwill into cash, awkwardly
Project, ascribe meaning, sell.
A devalued person, a commodity,
To be used.

Clamoring

Fetid stream of
Derogatory remarks,
One foul mouth
Maligning many.

Sullied brain,
Inculcated intolerance,
Grafted onto psyche,
Unbreakable permanent bond.

Legions sympathetic,
Howling viscerally,
Defending the untenable,
Scant of reason.

A rabble roused,
Self-perpetuating,
Clamoring for more
Gratuitous carnage.

Saint-Tropez

Show me how much I matter.
Limit my ability to keep the
Lights on in my home, pay the
Rent. Encourage me to work long
Hours and celebrate holidays on the job.
Tick tock, doesn’t matter when
You’re on the clock. Keep my
Hours below the magic line.
I’m disorganized, overwhelmed, docile.

Tell me that I’m on my own when I fall ill,
Talk up the local public clinic. My new
Stamp collection will keep me and
My children floating in cheese and milk.

Cursed freeloaders impeding the
Extra wing of the seventh mansion,
Four-hundredth shoe. Vacation time forfeited,
You never know who’s in the wings ready to
Take your place.
I hear Saint-Tropez is beautiful this time of year.

Quality

Row after row of
Rattling machines,
She sits alone
Surrounded by many
Others just like her,
No talking permitted,
Mind-numbing repetition
Wearing down her
Brain – hands – dignity,
Cacophonous clattering
Claiming her hearing.
Day in, day out,
Dawn to dusk,
Under constant scrutiny,
Quality control,
Not quality of life.
A continent away,
A woman in an upscale store
Chatters happily
About her purchase.

Exasperation

He was dissatisfied with his life and
Let everyone know about it.
A pummeling stream of invectives and
Vituperation aimed at anything or
Anyone in the vicinity.

Relentless exasperation and acrimony.
Dumping a full can of summer garbage on
Anyone unfortunate enough to inquire about
His day. A steady slow-motion fall onto
A mattress of rocks and glass shards.

Unconscious

Of all the things
He could be doing,
He chooses the one
That hurts people.

Unfeeling,
Driven only by an
Unconscious need
For supremacy.

No joy around here,
Only hardness and pain,
Violence and horror,
Absence of light.