Short Free Verse Poems about the Human Condition

Crucial Shift

Blissfully easy,
Categorizing a
Human being as
Defective, lazy,
Unworthy of care,
Compassion.

Cruel exercise,
Rendering a person
Featureless,
Expendable,
Trash decomposing
In a gutter.

Crucial shift
From apathy, scorn,
To compassion,
Understanding
That is all of us
But for chance.


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Conscious Effort

It’s really easy to
Go with one’s baser
Instincts, it requires
No actual thought,
Just be rude or
Dismiss someone without
Worrying about it
For even a moment,
Look away,
Pretend you see nothing,
Feel nothing.
Kindness requires
More deliberation,
A conscious effort
To love and value
Yourself, others, the world,
A resolution to go beyond
Self-interest and
Offer peace and joy
To everyone.

Lens

An affable man was asked whether
He was a writer. He replied emphatically
That he was most definitely not a writer but
More of a reporter. He walked away to
Continue chronicling the vicissitudes of life,
Seen through a lens of superficiality and
Constriction. He made only one exception:
When his words could help damage the
Vulnerable, otherwise, just casual
Accounts about nothing of consequence.

Girl with a Hula Hoop

It’s cold outside,
Snow on the ground,
But the girl with
A hula hoop
Is enjoying herself.

Assurances

A group of men converge, a raucous
Interplay of competing smiles and
Fables. Towels snapping, quips
Flying, one-upmanship obligatory,
Manic talking, absent listening,
The rustling of business cards being
Exchanged on the fly with
Assurances earnestly attached.

I’ll call you soon, we ought to get
Together for lunch, I like what you’re
Doing, that’s interesting. The phone
Lays silent at his side, unringing,
Unblinking. Useless. A sour
Reminder of broken promises,
Confidences offered in jest. Lack of
Depth, sincerity, meaning.

What She Always Wanted

What seemed initially
To be exactly what
She always wanted
Turned out to be a weight
Around her neck,
A constant reminder
That things would
Never be the same,
That she very well
Might have chosen the
Absolutely wrong path and
Would never be able
To admit it to anyone.

Just Fine

So brutally hurt inside
That the only way
He feels anything is
When he vanquishes
A foe, real or
Imagined,
Domination trying to
Stand in for love.
He’ll tell you he’s
Just fine,
Strong,
But even those who
Cover for him know
He’s not.

Small Chance

Run, jump, jubilant, free.
Hunker, flinch, frown, ossify.
Two outwardly normal men
Sit on a park bench.
One admires the birds in the sky
Playing a carefree game.
The other sees a small
Chance of heavy rain and
Intractable despondency.

Claptrap

Snatching a seat at the imposing
Exotic wood table,
Bloviating obliviously at the
Assembled underlings
Effusively and expeditiously
Commending every assertion and
Irrational pronouncement
Encased in exclusionary,
Unintelligible claptrap.
A miasma of incontinent adulation,
Widgets and metrics lain upon
The altar of vacuous selfdom.