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October 3, 2012

This is a poem I constructed dealing with the various foibles and inconsistencies of being human. I wanted to capture a lot of these playing a lot with alliteration, assonance, and rhyme, not necessarily paying close attention to the meanings of words or their weight, but relying on their cognizant meaning and consonance. But at the same time, I think I captured some of the ideas and concepts of the human condition along the way. Where I arrive at the end of the poem is a little ambiguous, but I intended this. I hope you will bear with my rather cacophonous tone I take on in the poem, and enjoy it in spite or because of.

We are all human

Feeding, eating, cuddling


We are all human

Befuddled, grizzled, grimy

Filled with awe, awful

At nothing, and everything too


We are all human

Adding, subtracting, working

Willing, wading, waiting

Whiling, willfully wistful

And timing, too, to toil.


We are all human

Foolishly fooling folly

To eat and sleep, and lie.

Tubing, lubing, like bullies

We do, tricking and trooping,

Snooping, swooping and

Grouping, and gooping.


Tricksters, trekking, for we

Are tricksters indeed, to sneeze

On glee, to glean our sheen

From what we have seen.

For to trick is to be a bit,

And see to it, we have a fit.


Grouping on grime and seeing

To slime, feeling so fine and

Yet so full of shine and time.

Loosing, letting and bleeding

Fondling, mollycoddling, and

To trudge on sludge, in dudgeon


We will wake, wafting in a soft

Loft, and cough, in a bough

Of hair, hair that snares and

Glares and blares. For we are all


Human, so little and yet so big,

And we all we do is play the game—



From → Poetry

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