the human condition poems

Funny | Haris Adhikari

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Funny, how people pop up
in disguise, or in infatuation, following
to find a fault or two, pasting
honeycombs
on the virtual cliff of today’s culture.
Funny further
how plastic hearts
pulsate life into
moments of wide grins, either by grinning
on the doorway, leaning
a nubile body, revealing
the interior– posh empty
sofa, chair, money plant, erotic
painting lookin’ down
at the empty glass on the table– or by
coming to a long, long emotional appeal,
telling a story of a stranded,
exotic princess in exile, asking
to be an abetter, to send a few
hundred dollars, for some ‘technical reasons’,
to get the royal treasures back– or by conning
into giving your account number
for some unknown American lottery you’ve won!
Who are these people? Don’t they have
any other work to do? Funny,
funny even for a thought!
Om Mani Padme Hum!

More at http://madswirl.com/author/hadhikar/.

What Is Right | Ananya S. Guha

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You stand rock-like
But I stand on flimsy
Footprints reaching
Out for words in emptiness
You stand in steadfast principles
But mine waver every moment
When the earth shakes
Or tornado strikes
You say give never get
I say give and let live
I am bedrock of passion
Stone foot compassion
Wavering in light
Stoic at night
Till dreams are a cleavage
In what is right

Irony at Its Finest | Chris Byrne

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The only thing the world
Needs is more love
Yet we go out of our
Way to hurt and destroy
The people that matter the most,
Yet we think we are
The dominant species
Who think know what love is,
If we truly did would we destroy it?

Perspective | James Diaz

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You said, “Good things happen
whether we deserve them or not,”
but I believe good things happen
whether we know they are good or not
sometimes all you can really feel
is what has, for so long, pained you
and when the sun beats down
for some of us
it might as well be dark as night.

Erosion | Judy Moskowitz

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A paranoid sky talks to the sun
afraid to look down
asks why and how
who do you count on
at the end of the day
when its sundown and air
is thick as burnt steak
a brush fire becomes a storm
they turned their backs
he packed his bags
nobody around
to catch the fall
who do you count on
at the end of the day
when nothing is shared
down deep where it counts
all I could see is the lack
of eye contact
that didn’t want to be touched
or found in an empty pool
I looked into the midnight sky
hiding in all the wrong places
whetting my appetite
for something ugly

Brainwashed | Blanca Alicia Garza

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Our beautiful world is
tumbling, falling apart
We’re destroying it
with hatred and beliefs
We’re living with fear
even to turn on the TV
to find just bad news there
and meaningless advertising
Poison in our food
New diseases
But fewer cures
Where the clowns now
wear suits and ties
wanting to rule the world
And justice has
closed its eyes.

Broken | Steve Denehan

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Murmured conversation and cutlery scraping.
Into the restaurant he came,
As out of place as anyone has ever been.
He was older, enormous, bedraggled.
His shoulders were wide, straining against a greasy brown coat.
His hair, matted, above a weathered face.
Stopping, he seemed surprised to have arrived in the restaurant.
He turned to face our table and we caught eyes.
Words, of a sort, fell from his mouth and landed on the floor.
He was escorted out and the silence was filled once again,
With murmurs and scraping.

Hello, Win. | Alexandre Bartolo

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Her eyes gaze at
a lady with implanted hair
across rosé cheeks,
screws spiking
children’s necks,
Egyptian bands
enrolling firefighters’ bodies,
cliché bloody teeth
coming from my gums.

“It this Halloween,
daddy?”
We tell our children:
“Lies often have shorter legs.”
How can I
tell her this is not?

Should I tell her
the lady has hypertrichosis
which her insurance won’t cover?
Her childhood peers
were murdered by the soon-to-be serial killer?
The mighty Estate
won’t assist His more-burnt burdens than heroes?
My company
is moving towards tax-breaks?

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