social commentary
There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Death of Olympus
And so, the laurel wreath slipped from the crown of the world, mournfully replaced by a halo of thorns. Exchanging the Aegis for a cross,
Amelie MarinePublished 3 years ago in PoetsLeaving home
I hear the phone ringing as the television blurs. Another solitary night, as lonely as the first… New desk, new life, such promise: yet nothing new is used -
Joanna McLoughlinPublished 3 years ago in PoetsHopeful Permanence
Unison, harmony, perfect understanding of purpose; More than a place, but still a locale to be desired. As our hands toil on the clock of corporate service,
Michael ConradPublished 3 years ago in PoetsLegacy of the Eastern West
They used to make graves of Marble; the stones of a fallen wish, carved clean as babes purity & the crystals shined like tears;
Alyssa GravelinePublished 3 years ago in PoetsAbundanza
My grandparents were immigrants . Childhood was in half Italian and half English Nothing was a statement, a simple sentence of fact
P. E. ZaccardoPublished 3 years ago in PoetsUnblocking myself to a true homeland state
Two souls that I no carry a brave each of them presenting as fame. Triangulu moaning wind has complained, and I sit next to myself.
Family Tree
Come on kid, leave me alone Go talk to your dad about the birds and the bees Go inside, quit rustling my leaves You’re stressing my limbs, you’re breaking my branches
Jesse CarkinPublished 3 years ago in PoetsA meditation on
all around the world Humans are fleeing Home is shelter
jovanna hopkinsPublished 3 years ago in PoetsI’m On My Way Home
I'm on my way home to a place where I need to be. Where love resides, where fires burn bright, where warmth is found, where joy exists,
Kiran KumarPublished 3 years ago in PoetsHome Body
My heart was built underneath my Mothers skin, my first home and shelter unfolding within, her body and blood and bone.
Fiona MclennanPublished 3 years ago in PoetsNever in my life
This really did happen to me in march of two thousand and fourteen I had went back to my ex , a lesson unforeseen When we are somewhere we aren't meant for at that time
Karen GreenPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThe Complications of Communications
In attempting to be seen and heard We're getting tangled up in the words Trying hard to bring us together But inventing vocabularies that pull us further apart
Pam ReederPublished 3 years ago in Poets