"humanness" poems
World turns slowly I am filled
40,000ft deep in the Cosmic Ocean
Puffed grey islands in a sea of mist
Pervading the awareness of Earth moving in a curling fashion, ancient bones creak slowly as the sun disappears from view
Even when human beings try to run or hide, create far flung ways of being away from their nature
A single star appears and a trio of lights blink on at the ground
unison movement
like a long laugh echoing along the circumference of our humanness
we return to our universal nature despite.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
Did anyone ever thought
about this fraternal oneness,
why we are all in this universe
and so profoundly related.
Did you know that beneath
the differences of different
people lies only one man nature.
One world and one people.
Different beliefs but one source.
Varied culture and tradition
but one humanness.
Drinking same fountain of water
from above and below the earth.
All breathing same air,
what one breathes out,
another takes in.
We blend and merge together,
resonating in synergy to bring
desired octaves in response
to a beautiful and blissful sequence,
with different forms and
different wavelength Interwoven
holistically in wholeness.
As one sleeps the other awakes,
in different geographic areas,
sharing the same sun and moon,
as the stars shine daily bears witness,
though it is only seen in part in accord
with whoever is in the light or dark,
it's brightness is shown in the dark
only when the moon shines,
and hidden in the brightness of the sun,
as one is in the light with the sun,
the other is in dark with the moon.
We still shines as the stars in the
sky even though we don't know it.
Don't mess up what is so important
in your life just because you are
a little unsure of who you are.
Be truly your neighbors keeper,
for we are all related.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
Vacant. Empty. Twisted. Lacking.
Chills shoot though my body filling the cracks whatever is left
Let go of the Meaning of LIFE and one is lost
Worried. Angered. Freaked. Spinning.
Words jotted down upon an empty page to show giving proof to rage
Reality is no kind reminder in correction of humanness
Stupidity. Irony. Pathetic. Foolish.
These eyes have absorbed from the outside world all which is meaningless
Vibrant life left behind to retrieve if one is wise
Hope. Love. Joy. Peace.
Never take the God-given gifts taken for granted or hard ways shall teach
Throw them aside as ******* and despair will find what's left
Trash. Pathetic. Waste. Shameful.
Such trash is how I perceive some to view my vehemency
No integrity do they see in what these eyes hold scared
Purity. Integrity. Honesty. Valiancy.
Which spring from the soul and mind diluted from ones first breath in the flesh
Access to God diluted from what cannot be achieved
Sovereignty. Omniscience. Omnipresent. Agape.
Witness madness for what God has been met first hand is just in righteousness
Full of grace and mercy to those who Seek Him
Loving. Wise. Holy. Eternal.
To those Who serve Him He gives of Himself correcting those He loves
Comfort is naught promised for character is His measure
Sanctification. Tried. True. Loyalty.
Purifying His people through teaching His ways is the foremost goal
As choice gold refined and proved accordingly
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
Can I show you how beautiful you are? Can I take out the old photo albums and push my index finger into the faces, the places, and seas? I want to peel back the plastic and remove the square photographs from their sticky setting. I'm alluding to ideas that exist more formidably on the internet- there are no paper photographs, no sticky settings, there aren't even faces in the numbers; it's only ever been you or me.
Some of my things are crooked. The strings don't work, the wires are twisted and make the sounds all come out funny. There's a strange buzzing everywhere, it's like Mickey's gray cloud, a cloud Koopa throwing spiked shells from Park Avenue beach to Montrose street. Everything is quiet, consuming, unassuming and still recalcitrant. I'm showing nothing to nobody. Coaxing storm systems and netting foul play and ***** tricks, with my pants around my ankles or my fly unzipped.
I'm stinking of this stuff. These sudorific crevices on the insides of my thighs. I'm more or less always pacing. Rocking. Rolling. Small room I'm living room, cadavers I stuff my skinny fingers inside of- cold, wet hollow places I'm seeking skin covered gods in. I'm craving tastes and flavors. I'm looking at these pictures of me, of my face and the clothes I wore, the people that knew me. Where have I disappeared to? Every place that I went, every condition of my humanness has gone. Five minutes past my certainty, squirting hot molten magma from my **** my lips, and my fingertips. Hysterical thoughts and homily. I want just a hello. I want just a hello.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC
If you hear endearment in the plea
leave the echoed sigh of sympathy
and come with your libretto lungs
and lips of red zephyr absolution
to purify the black coughs of cumulus
evaporating the enclosure
of my satin-threaded fetters
A failed emblem of security
in solitary journeys
Come and lay your mortal coil
of seraphic incarnation
next to my imprisoned vessel
of corrupted humanness
Slow my palpitating hourglass
of ashen peace-of-mind
with organic visitations of
your marble maze shrines
Here I can placate my warped
direction with the porcelain decor
of your serene skin
Angel
Wrap your light around my being
like the sun around an icicle
then release me long enough
to euphemise the darkness in me
from de-light to silhouette enlightenment
Hear my plea
muffled by annulled identity
Be the angel
hiding in my boiled
satin threads
and reveal me
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
So, I’m drawn to your religion
On the basis of aesthetic.
I want to feel the way that
Golden, plump, laughing Buddha
Feels without having to read the stories.
I want to embrace the wu wei--
Whatever that means--
I want to sit criss-crossed
In the long, naples yellow grass
With no ticks.
In the orange afternoon sun
With no nighttime.
I want to worship at a smoky altar
And feel the arms of
My Goddess wrap around me.
Hear her voice: slow, smooth, but stern.
“Thank you,” for the sacrifice.
I want to be divine--God
Gaze down from the Heavens
And take pride in my light
Like I am your son;
I want to be free of the burden
Of my humanness,
Lifted,
Cleansed,
Purified.
I wish to be free of desire
And so it is the desire which ails me.
And I curse nothing more
Than I curse my hungry heart
And my faulty mind.
Lifted,
Cleansed,
Purified.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
count thy words
like you count your breathes -
not!
the estimable statisticians
can estimate
the proximate number
of breaths
our lives will take,
the inventory of words,
we shall on average aggregate
we breathe recklessly,
never stopping
to slow down the rate
with which we tirelessly
consume ourselves
think of the
mess of words,
a brain store,
like a breath,
use it and then
purposeful lose it,
once employed,
nevermore,
so write often,
even longingly,
as in,
write long,
write hard,
every word expelled,
a treasure,
returned to
brother poets
for their
consumption and reutilization,
the monoxide,
of a shared oxide
when thy stock of
words in trade,
almost all used up,
perforce,
must write only
short little sweet nothings
well,
in happy desperation,
compose
alliterative allegations,
nonsensical noises,
aiming to pleases
summation of essential humanness
remain few breaths,
issue rhythmic sounds,
colorful grunting noises,
outed
one last intelligible poem
that cannot ever be read
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 5:31 AM UTC
The Other Side
Look through me so that I can see you
naturally
Surprise me
Do not hinder your reveal
I appreciate your humanness
The blood that sings when you think of me in golden evenings
I know.
That you can hear me learning
I feel your brain’s creativity on my spine
That is beauty speaking to the core
Growing one breath at a time
before we meet again
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 9:25 PM UTC
Knowing and,
Celebrating humanness
Respect to independence
Independence of one another
Acknowledgement of,
Space everyone holds
Is the key
Respect for one another's freedom
Respect for choices they make
For themselves only
Trying to not get into people’s affairs
Minding your own business
Helping one another is the key
Loving is the key
Boosting owns insecurities, is not
Boosting other's insecurities, is not
Getting over other's freedom, is not
Getting over personal space, is not
Thinking you know everything, is not
Every generations of human
Are trying to find the key
And here it is,
Some know it
Others are not conscious
The key is independence
The key is personal space
Simply, the key is spirit
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 10:20 AM UTC
don't weep above this hatred
this plague shall soon be through
while we climb the ladder into the heavens
breathe the sweet and childish laughter
whistling this new profound and beautiful truth
may the capsules of stardom be removed
lest the gold of you be unglued
then we'll play our shows on mountaintops
and draw them in the millions
beyond all the written pleasures that exist for just a few
when this crystal city's completed
sparkling sapphires in royal blue
emerald's with the faces of the Aegean
barely touch on the euphoria, on the eyes I've looked into
there is electricity in this symphony of humanness
pale or black and blue
then these melted flavors of our curses
may dissolve between us too
Until your mouth is dry of spit
and our lips are numb from use
let's dance inside the venom
dear lucille pulls us through
miss heroine and her guiding rays
beat the storm away
A journey that had never been
aurulent skin she didn't see herself in
tied to a chair, while she choked and I pulled her hair
I found a real good girl there
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
I have let the honey flow through me in golden waves , like a thick ocean
Nobody tells you that sweetness can also be brutal
There is no healing in the sort of kindness you are forced to give
It is pouring salt on a wound and calling it a bandage
I have shown the sugar the pores of my skin and allowed each grain to rain out of me
I looked like the eye of a snow storm for weeks
The blue-black throb of my unappreciated heart has stopped, but I still feel pinches as I wake up
That's when a person knows that time does not heal all maladies nor fix all calamities
We are not meant to be honey, all-natural and forever sweet
Not stevia, unhealthy and artificial
Our hearts shouldn't beat for the entire world
Just our own selves
We must rid ourselves of those who don't see our goodness and those who don't see our badness
Because we are a melting *** of humanness
and a missing ingredient is fatal
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 3:50 PM UTC
Results of blind love some may speak
Scales falling from the lovers tired eyes
To behold the glaring reality before them
An equally imperfect person which they wed
Let us not deny our humanness to the other
Faults bind two humans in oneness of mind
From each weakness one finds a new strength
To move forward as one body not two ashamed
Ay many things you are not my dearest one
And many more virtuous things you are
Do not call me a liar and mock my adoration
This heart is set in the warmth of your chest
These glowing eyes are set on your worth
Honestly aware of your mundane faults
Ask you not to be perfect in person alone
Only to be perfectly imperfect together
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
I will not take from you.
I will receive what you freely give,
Your time, with attentiveness;
Your opinion, with deliberation;
Your wisdom, with appreciation;
Your care, with contentment;
Your trust, with meekness;
Your happiness, with joy;
Your sorrow, with comfort;
Your compassion, with relief;
Your humanness, with understanding;
Your adoration, with commitment;
Your passion, with fidelity;
Your heart, with sacrifice;
Your soul, with reverence;
Your love, with devotion.
©1998 Michael S. Davis
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
***Haunted in my flagrant dreams,
awake on hallow'd ground
you watch me breath
as I seek you out
cold spirits taunted past
spasmodic verses chant
hollow insides afraid to sleep
your sanctification renders me
uncomfortably conscious
numb within breath's shallow inhale
undone in the nothingness of rhyme
fearing truth's brutal reality
bewailing in grief's heartfelt desire
pull me up to new sight'd heights
in your wayward plight's surrender
save me from this cruel humanness***
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
My feelings and sense of who "I am"
were still involved in the strange online
communication
Not needing my voice to stroke
you stroke alone
kissed the screen and said good bye
Have a great day baby, it's only cyber
Really?
You just took my humanness and ****** all over
me and made me feel like a *****
So,
Good bye baby...no hard feelings
after all it's only cyber we're playing with
Right?
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
The world is to be filled with
The bravest of men
And the loveliest of women.
That's what all the fairytales say.
But real life is nothing like the fairytales.
Brave men don't climb high towers
Or fight evil dragons.
No.
Brave men fight for who they love
And never give up.
Real men,
Brave men,
Fight the battles they are given in life
Diligently.
With A smile on their face
That will never cease.
Brave men live without craving
The approval of others.
A brave man is a man
That embraces his own humanness
And knows he's nothing more.
A brave man sees God as his superior
And never something to put off
Or ignore.
I don't want a man that kills dragon
And climbs that high tower.
I want a man
Who wants to love.
And be loved.
Admitting to that is brave.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
You could tell
by Mamie’s face
she was sick
of shish kebabs
in fact it seemed
that the whole Moroccan holiday
was kind of getting
to her sensibilities
from the standing
on the two brick toilets
to the shish kebab
food misadventure
let’s go walk
on the beach
she said
before I throw up
with this crap
and so you walked
with her down through
the path to the beach
the moon and stars
above in a black
patchwork sky
the sound of the sea
rushing in and out
and the voices
of the others
getting less
and less
and she said
looking up at the sky
isn’t scary that sky
why is it scary?
you asked
it’s so vast
like it goes on forever
she said
I think Pascal found
the immensity
of the night sky
disturbing
you said
Pascal?
Is he on the coach?
Is he on the tour?
she asked
no he was a mathematician
and physicist and inventor
and Christian philosopher
in the 17th century
oh right
she said
boring ****
come on let’s get
on the beach
and lay down
and stare
at the sky
and stars
and that bright moon
and then we can snuggle
up close
and we’ll see
what comes
and she pulled you
onto the beach
and the damp sand
eased itself
between your toes
and the smell of the sea
hit you
and the sounds
and the wind
from off the sea’s shoulder
and she pulled you
down on the beach
beside her
and you lay back
and looked up
and the vast sky
seemed to press down
on you both
and she laughed
and said
it kind of makes
you seem small
and insignificant
doesn’t it
she said
you felt her hand
in yours
a soft pulse
of her being
right there
like a small beeping drum
and she turned
and looked at you
and smiled
and her smile was captured
by the moon’s glow
and you said
we need to remember
this moment
this being here
this newness of being
and she laughed
and said
don’t get too deep on me
and she leaned in
close to you
and kissed you
and her tongue
entered you
and the whole sky
seemed to witness
the moment
seemed to want
to embrace the kiss
the bright humanness
in her moonlit face.
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 8:42 AM UTC
I loved watching
your body light up
the first time
you felt me up
The medal
against my *******
sit in diagonals
painted silver
they've found the perfect home
against my soft skin
and your perfect lips
I want you
to feel them,
admire my art
and know this is not
what everyone sees
They are
lessons I have learned
in ***
and love
the more your fingertips
explore
you will learn my mistakes
and heartbreak
When your tongue travels,
you are tasting everything
I pour
into my art
and feeling
all of my humanness
you are seducing
all of my dreams
and living
in my fantasy
Give me
the touch
I crave
tie me up
in your arms
and wrap me
in your skin
kiss me
with all the colors
of fire
let me feel
your kinda love
and allow me
to give you mine.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
Serenity
Death comes and the child
On th beach
Lovers
Dream of holiness
Undress
The world of all its lies
---
Naked on the sands
Eternity rejoices in their embrace
Under the moon they face
Eachother and the tides
That would erase all meaning
From their humanness
and you too are here
--
And I too appear
And the child too appears
The holy holy child
--
The winds blow fierce
But there is no fear
For we are all together
At last
Undresed
Like the world
Of all lies
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 3:39 AM UTC
I am desolate, hollow
As the shaft of a feather.
I float easily among the rest,
Through fields of grazing bovine,
Heads bent to pasture.
My belly whines.
The noise it makes threatens forfeiture
And begs nourishment, a rest
From this emptiness.
I push firmly on it to shut it up.
I do this many times. It is a nervous hour.
With each passing day, a righteousness
flows through my every dry and shriveled vein.
This denial of self eats at my humanness.
There will be but spirit left.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
To exist in the light,
we must be mindful of the dark
and every shade in between.
A close friend of mine who has depression tells me she knows that it can be difficult not knowing. She says it was why she was afraid, because the happiness she felt was arbitrary and that sooner or later it would be replaced with soul-sucking and mind-numbing hopelessness. Too happy, meant that it was a step and crash away from being too sad. Every good feeling had a sour ending.
But I’ve realised that such is the rhythms of life, and the balance that keeps us in check. This is the human condition where compassionate and noble people also experience shame, wounds and discarded pieces no one wants to see. People can hold breathtaking beauty while inexorable darkness runs through their veins.
Light and dark both hold the innate understanding
that one cannot exist without the other.
It is for the same reasons that we must let ourselves have access
to the full range of our humanness.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 10:40 AM UTC
Little the lost one
Endlessly seeking
A
Hand to hold
--
Even in death's shadows
Even in the still frozen heartlands
Of this naked heartless country
LO!
Something somehow awakens
(I hope it is you
Good soul)
••
POSSIBILITIES
Perhaps a triumphant return
POSSIBILITIES
Perhaps somebody shall explore
With patience and humility
This broken world
••
••
Little the lost child
With imploring visage
And terrifying eyes
---
Perhaps a clarion call
Certainly an invitation
To ---- come alive
And to take a hold
Of the hand held rigid
In painful self control
Perhaps a humanness
Shall begin to show
Itself thru all the unimaginable pain
And I may see you shine again
••
It's all true
What's goin on
It s a lie
A theft
A psychotic game
Come
Grab her hand and walk away
Come
Grab my hand and we 'll
All
Go
Free
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
I stared at your face I was touched by the look you had on your face it contained sadness mixed with
Beauty and the unforgettable serious that holds as you look upon your face your blond hair frames you
So well the more I looked the more the human ebbed and flowed from your picture I’m only left to
Guess about the real you but you came at a time when I need to connect to another human being
Stillness the photo was snapped when your lips were open as if you were getting ready to speak it
Creates a haunting quality blue eyes of cool hard or tender they match your circumstances to rule
By the spirit if you are invaded you fall back to the wall now everything is right your strength rushes
Forth your fortress at your back is not your power or defense it is your confidence the inner swelling
Well you are not unfamiliar with life’s jagged edge your hands not visible truly will carry the marks of
Scars a defender will call out the warning then lead the necessary charge with a boldness the field holds
No greater honor than selfless sacrifice a pillar that stands fearless when you know you are in the right
Only the lonely know true glory a rock Asbury carbon by this fuel a dynamo has its switch flipped she
Drinks courage in like it’s her own homemade brew she strikes a pose sweet as a rose and truly the river
Widens its flow the heavens burst into a glow a soul of fire has passed among the dark and wild wood
Just a visitor that left her words that were indeed silent with wisdom beamed from her essence she took
And held our imagination for a little while shared her humanness broadened our existence stillness
Captures by its frozen immobility it wills and holds you until it evokes in you a response tenderness
Speaks a language all its own it never fails it has all the emotional tools that works in the soul thanks
Desert woman there are truly streams in the desert you prove that thank you
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
I feel like a statue
Dissolving and disintegrating from the elements.
Maybe that is what statues are,
Frozen sadness that is not heard but only spoken to
A cloak of frozen smoke that eventually crumbles
Loneliness turned into powdery dust.
Maybe dirt and sand are really lost and lonely souls
Surrendered to the harsh elements of humanness,
Becoming the support for others to find their footing
Crying statues
A petting zoo of statues
Lonely souls that finally get touched and stroked, picked up and spoken to
By other sad and lonely ones
Who have not yet turned to stone
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 5:02 PM UTC