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Shambhavi Apr 15
In the race for gold,
We wrapped our peace in silent fold.

In the chase for lavish things,
We lost the joy that life truly brings.

In the race for body counts,
We blurred pure and sacred love amounts.

In the climb to reach the top,
We took our morals to a silence drop.

In the race to have all we sought,
We forgot what God once taught.
In race of earning money, power and fame we unfortunately lost our biggest weapon humanity and love.
a poet Apr 13
have you ever drank a river?
stretched your lips over it's banks
and ****** everything —
the fishes,
the canoes,
and the boots
that sunk 5 years ago.

I am so thirsty that if I could stretch my mouth
around this planet
and crunch the glaciers,
swallow the oceans,
and breathe in the clouds —

It would not still be enough.

But see what nature did.
It gave me a small mouth
and a mind that believes
that a cupful
is enough.
B C Stan Apr 7
I am Greed, the next
No victory is enough
Only what is ahead
I keep my eyes upright

I am Greed, the obsession  
Men gain strength
I whisper, “more”
Men gain influence
I whisper, “more”
Men gain supremacy
I whisper, “more”
Men gain all
I whisper, “more”

I am Greed, the unavoidable
Unlike every other sin, men need me
Men need to want

I am Greed, the collector
My collection is grander than all others
But I covet only one more thing:
Your soul
Pobres de nuestros países
Pobres de todas partes
Pobres de Haití
Personas pobres, desorientadas y locas
Ya no diré "pobre Haití"
Haití es un país lleno de riqueza
Haití, un país lleno de recursos
Para otros
Haití es un paraíso y rico en recursos
Para otros
Haití es un país lleno de hipocresía
De gente desposeída, miserable y sufriente
Haití es un lugar lleno de odio y traidores
¡Haití, Haití! ¡Qué vergüenza! Donde sus líderes son tontos, malvados y locos.
La juventud haitiana tiene muy mala suerte.
Porque los falsos líderes son codiciosos, repugnantes e insensatos.
Qué vergüenza para un pueblo que a menudo ha sufrido tanto.
Los cementerios están por todas partes, al igual que las iglesias y los calvarios.
Hay tanta miseria allí porque los ladrones, los estafadores.
Hipócritas, secuaces, bandidos, locos y sinvergüenzas están por todas partes.
Este es el país donde demasiadas personas inocentes mueren por balas, por hierro
Por odio, por hipocresía, por venganza, por ignorancia y por pobreza
¿A qué santo debemos invocar por esta gente desesperanzada
Por nuestros hermanos y hermanas sin futuro que mueren de desesperación?
¿A qué Dios sordo y ebrio debemos rezar para salvar a los seguidores de Cristo
Que se lamentan, lloran, gritan y ladran como perros?
¿Qué palabra deberíamos usar para fortalecer y revitalizar a estas personas debilitadas?
¿Y al Estado que, lamentablemente, existe para castigar a las víctimas empobrecidas?
Pobres aquí donde estamos
Pobres de nuestros países
Pobres de todas partes
Pobres de Haití
Pobres de estos Estados Unidos.

P. D.: Traducción de «Pauvre Peuple De Chez Nous, De Nos Pays».

Copyright © Abril de 2025, Hébert Logerie. Todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de varios poemarios.
The profit of greed
Is the only thing they need.
Man want more,
For the seeds they sow.

I profit more,
Till I start to pour.
I take others lives,
To feed my fearful lies.

I take what’s free,
To monopolize and fee.
Oh, you think you’re free?
I lock, no key.

What further more,
Shall suffer need.
I take before,
Your life, I feed.

They do this more,
The plagues saturate the poor.
All I need is myself alone,
To finally destroy humanities stone.
This is where unchecked capitalism and greed can satiate the need of more over human rights. There are many examples of this, including today, such as big pharmaceutical and other industries that we need further consumer protection from under the restrictions of basic human needs. Such as the needs of profits over basic rights we presume today, and the stagnation of innovation from the manipulation of patents and lobbyists that do not have the interest of humanity in mind.
Faith Cubitt Apr 2
all the cards were unfolding in my hands out of control
the lights were slowly going out as I dug my own grave but somehow you ended up falling in the hole.
I was the worst of all
but it's just so dark inside
please don't get to close
I'm trying to hide the truth
I need to let you go
I really didn't want to let you down
but there's such a beast inside  
I guess were all just made of greed
Don't look into my eyes....
SCHEDAR Mar 28
Walk along the city streets
butterscotch sky
sun-shower
bittersweet

There on the curbside sits an old painting

A Ballerina

lying with the rest of the trash
waiting to be picked up

The drizzle drains the color from the canvas but not
the natural light from the dancer
who
in all the noise and distortion
forgot her steps
along the way
Arii Mar 21
You bring out the worst in me
And I can’t believe I didn’t see
Your true intention.
No wonder there was alway so much tension

When we’d

Sit around and
talk about

A future that we
didn’t have

A future that I couldn’t see
A future you took away from me.

It doesn’t sting,
it doesn’t burn.
It tastes bitter on my tongue,
but it doesn’t hurt.

No, I won’t let you get to me,
no more,
I won’t let you wreck me
any more.

Leave me be, and
maybe you’ll see
You’re not who you make yourself
out to be.
neth jones Mar 27
trot it all out     two tottering opposites                                
            duelling sets   of things we ought think
two angers   we must take like a ***** draught
and we are distractible
one feeding of fear   to link us all                         
    and we are made quite yielding
                                        
i feel willing now  to rush upon death   just to get the it over with
and the dragons can take the hoard                      
                             and disable its currency
a real species stopper
well done
Maryann I Mar 9
I hate this hunger, gnawing loud,
a whisper turned into a crowd.
I write for peace, for truth, for light—
yet crave the echo in the night.

A thousand eyes, a million hearts,
I want the world to know my art.
Though kindness rains and love is near,
still something selfish stirs in fear.

Why isn’t enough just enough?
Why does praise feel like fragile fluff?
Why do I ache for louder cheers,
when gentle voices ring so clear?

I count the stars, but chase the sun—
forgetting how the moon has won
my poems over with her grace,
while I still seek a grander place.

I loathe this thirst I cannot quench,
this greedy pull, this inner wrench.
Yet deep inside, I see the root—
a child who just wants to feel absolute.

But let me learn to love this pace,
to write for stillness, not the race.
To hold each word, each soul, each view,
and know—enough is something true.
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