Short Free Verse Poems about the Human Condition

Race Thing

It’s reported that
The whole race thing
Is really not much of
A concern, bordering on
An afterthought for many,
Easily dismissed,
Of no real consequence,
A very different view
From having epithets
Shouted at you or being
A permanent suspect,
Second-class something,
Berated, harassed,
Handcuffed, maced,
Clubbed, shot for
Being exactly as
You were born.


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Could

They chopped down the
Beautiful tree that
Graced their yard.
Not because it was sick,
Or encroaching on something,
But because they could.

Stain

Startled and enraged
By the light of progress,
They scurry out from
Their hiding places to
Shriek for their right
To hate, impose their
Distorted dreams of
Inequality and fear.
Artifacts from a
Shameful past,
Idealizing the
Trespasses of their
Forebears, standing up
For malevolence,
A ghastly stain,
Total absence of
Compassion, love.

Unsaid Things

It’s painfully obvious
That there are many
Unsaid things that he
Needs to express but
That he will never
Articulate because it’s
More important to win
Than to love.

Harmony

They gather in all
Corners of the world,
From small villages
To big cities,
From mountaintops to
Beaches to forests,
From living rooms to
Public spaces,
Young and old,
Light and dark,
Big and small,
Dancing,
Joyfully expressing
Their common
Humanity,
Celebrating
Harmony,
Peace,
Love.

Not Her Audience

On a balmy summer afternoon
She sits tending her booth,
Her lovely paintings on display.

A few people walk by and
Half-smile on their way
To somewhere else.

Others comment or
Ask questions, making
Polite small talk.

Occasionally, someone
Seems genuinely interested
In one of her works.

At the end of the day,
She realizes that this
Was not her audience.

Numb

Like a bunch of awkward
High school students,
They stand around fidgeting,
Desperately trying to one-up
Each other with mundane,
Sleep-inducing stories
About banal experiences
Followed by raucous
Self-conscious laughter.
One guy raises his voice,
Gesticulating wildly,
Hoping the nearby ladies
Will notice, another rambles on
About how big his business is,
Another drinks his fifth cocktail
To numb the meaninglessness.

Personified

Sing a song of hope and courage
For those who have not yet
Found their voices.
Dance a dance of elation and passion
In the name of those who
Deny themselves movement.
Dream a dream for those who
Have none yet and dare not
Speculate on such matters.
Illuminate the world with a
Glow of innocence, enthusiastic
Imagination personified.

Where He Began

A former carny pontificates
At great length about freedom
When what he really promotes is
Abject selfishness driven by
Perpetually flashing images of
What it was like to scrap
For a living years ago,
People stepping on him,
Taking advantage of him,
Looking down on him,
A harsh life of insecurity and
Debasement coloring his every
Waking moment and assuring him
That it’s okay to punish
Everyone else so that he
Doesn’t end up where he began.