Short Free Verse Poems about the Human Condition

Operating Expenses

At one of
Many thousands of
Enormous stores,
Filled with cheap things
Fabricated by impoverished
Hands in parts of the
World out of sight and mind,
Lavishly benefiting one
Obscenely wealthy,
Compassionless family,
Whose snickering members
Give almost nothing
To charity thanks to a
Fiendishly clever
Tax-evading foundation,
Another employee’s
Already meager hours
Are cut to reduce
Operating expenses,
Though routinely
Expected to work overtime,
Off the clock,
Or be replaced.

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Survival of the Fittest

It was done to me,
So I’m going to
Do it to others.
I didn’t have it easy,
I had to fight for
Everything I’ve got.
I pulled myself up
By the bootstraps,
I shouldn’t have to
Support anyone else,
They’re all lazy,
I’m hard working,
They don’t deserve
Success like I do.
Let them shrivel
On the vine if they
Can’t figure it out,
It’s survival of
The fittest.

Rationalization

Perhaps it’s the
Repetition of ideas,
Labeled as common sense,
Rehashed and regurgitated
Way too many times,
Losing their original sting,
The memory of stern faces
Telling them what to believe,
The inability to bounce back
From the continuous onslaught,
The required rationalization
Of reprehensible positions,
That leads them to conclude
And say out loud,
Without a second thought,
That some people merit
Unconditional derision,
Exclusion, punishment.

Manageable

As with most of the
People she surrounded
Herself with, Samantha
Preferred to live on
The surface, stumbling
From one experience or
Heartache to another,
Leaving buried the more
Meaningful things that might
Lead to actual fulfillment,
Pretending everything
Was fine and manageable.

Fantasies

A slimy, diseased presence
Insinuating itself into daily
Discourse, spreading spores
Infecting the conversation,
Blurring the lines of veracity.

Small, petty, diseased creatures
Bloviating about the latest
Manufactured outrage,
Anti-truth serum pulsating
Through collapsing veins.

Feeding more coal into the fire,
Stoking the flames of discord,
Prurient power fantasies,
Conscience gagged, extinguished,
Kneeling at the altar of money.

Once a Week

She comes to
His home
Once a week.

She cleans the
Toilets, washes
His clothes.

She vacuums and
Dusts everywhere,
Mops the floors.

Her ever-present
Smile is a
Welcome sight.

He interacts with
Her in a
Polite way.

Below the surface,
He disdains
Her kind.

All These Problems

It’s so easy to fix
All these problems,
All you need to do
Is transform the ethos
Of people who would
Rather hoard everything
For themselves and
Introduce the idea that
It’s okay not to have
All the money or power
Or have to dominate
Everyone and everything,
That one can live a
Life of deep beauty and
Dignity with just the
Company of one’s own
Healthy conscience.

Them

I don’t mind
Giving to others,
I’m a charitable person,
Taught well by my parents.
I know the difference between
Right and wrong,
I was brought up to
Help others
Less fortunate.
I’m always there for
My friends, family, colleagues,
But not them.

Peddlers

Mendacious malefactors
Gleefully ditching integrity
For fistfuls of cash
Diverted to secret accounts.
Terrifying the rubes,
Making them look the other way
While separating them
From what little they
Still clutch.
Venal peddlers of untruth
Wrapped in mantles of righteousness
Threatening to blow up
The whole thing if they
Don’t get their way.
Predictably oppressive regime
Bent on absolute power and control,
Simpletons demolishing honor
In the name of personal gain.
Malevolent farce masking
Complete incompetence,
Merciless extortion.