Peace Poetry is Hugh Mann’s aphoristic prose poetry and verse about our eternal struggle with human nature, Mother Nature, and God. With kindness, Peace Poetry invites and unites with nice delightful insights that never incite. Widely enjoyed and interdisciplinary, Peace Poetry is taught in college and published in journals, anthologies, newspapers, and newsletters. Here's some Peace Poetry with alternating prose and verse:

Religions are based on scripture, which is mostly poetry. So it only makes sense that religious conflicts must be resolved through poetry, and not through politics, negotiation, or war. I propose that all religious conflicts be redefined poetically, so that they can be resolved without bloodshed, winners, or losers. So let's sharpen our words, not our swords; send missives, not missiles; and apply our minds to metaphor, simile, rhyme, meter, and prosody, but not pomposity, animosity, ferocity, atrocity, or monstrosity.


I'm not well
If you are sick

I'm not rich
If you are poor

I can't live
If you're not free

I depend on you
And you can depend on me

A brother is no bother
We all have the same Father

* Click here for reviews of Brother, which was sent to interfaith organizations after the September 11th attack.

Every spring, a bluebird flies down our chimney, gets trapped in the flue, and makes a tremendous racket trying to free itself. But birds cannot fly vertically, so eventually the little fellow falls into our woodstove, exhausted and defeated. Then we gently rescue him, take him outside, and watch him fly away. Like the bluebird, mankind is trapped, unable to escape or ascend. And man is waiting for the gentle hand of kindness to lift him up.


Look at me with loving eyes
Lavish me with lullabies
Tickle me till I'm in stitches
Nourish me with kisses
And good wishes

It sounds trite, but my father was a great guy. Lacking sophistication but not dedication, he supported us in a comfortable home, while he worked in a filthy factory. After ten hours of standing at a noisy machine and inhaling clouds of toxic dust, he came home cheerful and loving, without self-pity or resentment. One day, my father surprised me with a bicycle he built from spare parts he found in the basement of our tenement. I loved that multi-colored bike, because my father built it for me with his hands and his heart. God, thank you for my father. Now I know what to expect from You.


With its rain and dew
Spring is water's billet-doux
Of floral tutus

With tropical fruits
Summer is water's sweet kiss
Of succulent bliss

With its frost and sleet
Fall is water's au revoir
Of sleep and retreat

With its ice and snow
Winter is water's wicked
Wonderful uh-oh!


There are four kinds of writing: prose, poetry (verse), prose poetry, and aphorisms. Prose is information formatted in sentences and paragraphs. Poetry is imagery formatted in lines and stanzas. Prose poetry is imagery formatted like prose. And aphorisms are concise bits of wisdom formatted in sentences. Good writing is a smooth flow of lucid, logical, linguistic linkages. In short, writing is a link between think and ink.


My eyes took a picture of you
And my psyche pixelated it

My ears took a tape of you
And my aura archived it

My nose took a whiff of you
And my olfaction faxed it

My mouth took a taste of you
And my tongue texted it

My arms took a tour of you
And my hands scanned it

My feet took a walk with you
And my legs logged it

My heart took flight with you
And my soul started to soar
With terabytes of delight