Here are some original poems about humans. You won’t find them anywhere else. What could be more intriguing than ourselves? Where are we going? Where will we eventually be? There are no simple answers here, but we hope you find the following vulnerable verse stimulates you toward some thoughts of your own!
Human Beginnings, a poem
by Justin Thyme
In the beginning
fragile fallible creatures
just down from the trees
our only boast
apposable thumbs,
exaggerated frontal lobes.
Just yesterday hiding in caves
and studying fire, then suddenly
humans are everywhere
and running everything —
from pole to pole
from mountain peak to deep sea trench,
even on the moon, from where
they eye the solar system.
Humans are the brains of the earth,
the pinnacle of evolution,
a stunning biological success
here to stay forever
… forever?
And yet —
Song singing? Yes,
wonderful!
Tool building? Yes,
stunning!
Fire warming?
Yes, yes, amazing!
War making? Well, yes …
Oh my God!
What if humans
are still just juveniles?
What if humans
are still just beginning
and precariously on the edge
of a possible ending?
You and I, we’re human,
and
we’re still just learning to be human,
we’re an immature child of the universe,
vulnerable and error prone
at risk of becoming
a thin layer of radioactive fossils,
less we learn take care,
less we learn TO care
what it means to be human.
[This poem was closely inspired by some prose written by Lewis Thomas.]
Human Ends, a poem
by Felicity Hope
Man
woman
act toward an end.
You see it,
I see it,
but where is it
under the magnifying glass?
Thoroughly human, a poem
by Marya Ophir
You know, they tell me
that God is self-existent,
and eternal,
all that is good.
What do I know?
I’m only human.
I’ve got mud on my feet,
and sweat on my brow.
I need more than just a beer,
I need fetish spirits
puerile gods —
something I can see
and put my hands on,
something I can worship.
I know, you’ll smile and wink
at all my simplicity,
maybe you’ll condescend
to call me wicked,
but I’ve learned all their meanings
these concrete gods I worship,
and I’ve got to tell you
if you knew them like I do,
you’d begin to tremble.
They’ve some virtue
but vice aplenty, and
they carry out amazing
acts of folly, such lapses
for such powerful beings.
There’s Neith, a ribald,
and Mylitta, that whore,
and Set, so lascivious.
What can I say,
all my gods are —
well … so
thoroughly human.
A poem might be defined as thinking about feelings – about human feelings and frailties.
— Anne Stevenson
Poetry is the mother-tongue of the human race.
— Johann Georg Hamann
Hm. Did you find any answers about what it means to be human? Perhaps now you feel the need to write a poem of your own, about human mortality, both as an individual and as a species. You are so, so human! I hope you enjoyed these lyrics. Don’t miss the next wonderful poem on Shadow of Iris, go to the side bar and follow!