Short Free Verse Poems about the Human Condition

Illusion

He walks into the room,
Apprehension creasing his brow,
An unfamiliar setting
Where he’s not in control,
Where he can’t tell people
What to do, where the cold
Spotlight is trained on him and
All his frailties, the ones
He’s tried so hard to hide
And that have hurt so many.
He tries to bark some orders
To gain the upper hand,
But it doesn’t work,
The illusion vanishes
When people know how it’s done.

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Trudging

Trudging down the stairs,
He barely makes an effort to
Acknowledge my presence
With a frown and grunt.
I feel like something is off,
A palpable aura of menace.
I look at my friend who
Doesn’t seem to notice and
Who bears the scars
To this day.

See Her Go

It was the saddest thing to see
Her go. Consumed by rancor and
Antipathy, disfigured by forces she
Couldn’t resist, tempted by promises
Of power, control, safety, dominance,
A return to panacea, a premised land.

Writhing uncontrollably, harsh voice
Feigning certainty, hands clenched,
Eyes staring blindly, ferociously.
The fire of abandoned reason, inability
To acknowledge reality unretouched,
Capitulation to fear complete.

Expertise

A pedantic know-it-all,
Droning on about
His one area of expertise,
Laboring to relegate
Anyone and everyone to
Subordinate status,
Unable to make any
Meaningful connection,
A maudlin pretense of power
From a small, sad being
Who has never healed.

My Now What

So, I finally got
My washboard abs,
My fancy clothes,
My flashy jewelry,
My exotic car,
My huge house,
My trophy wife,
My now what.

Unencumbered

A quiet day
Except for a
Gradual awareness that
Everything has changed.
Mourning the past,
Hoping to return to it
At some point,
To a time when
Everything seemed possible,
A vast world beckoning,
Unencumbered.

Unrelated

Another letter arrives, and
With it a reminder of
The unrelated path I’m on.

No longer an unwitting participant
In a skewed game of
Manipulation and belittlement.

The demands of the past
Attempt to weaken my resolve
But fail to succeed.

All at Once

All at once,
Each thought
More intrusive than the last,
Vying for attention,
Demanding flashing signs.
In the turbulence,
A small voice beckoning,
Comfort and solace,
Purpose.

Empty Stimulation

I realize that
What I thought was authentic
Turned out to be
Something else
Unsubstantial, inane,
A deliberate fabrication
Demanding my time
Giving nothing in return but
Empty stimulation,
False meaning,
Superficiality.