social commentary

There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.

THE COLOURS OF MY WORLD
THE COLOURS OF MY WORLD I threw my colours at the world, And watched them come alive, A thousand shades of happiness, With dreams that would survive.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 16 days ago in Poets
The Game of Politics
Football follows the same rules No matter who is playing You can cry foul And scream that a player is cheating Until you are blue in the face
By Stephanie Hoogstad16 days ago in Poets
Shoe-Swayed Blues. Content Warning.
Hell, it’s run for the honey, glued to the show Free to get it hushed up no, frat, no But don’t you fuck with my shoe-swayed blues
By Harper Lewis 16 days ago in Poets
2026
Time always moves on We are not ready for it But we change with it Author’s Note: Well folks, after many interruptions, here we are, day forty on my path down the fifty-day song/lyric-inspired senryū challenge. I know it’s taking me longer than it should have due to work and personal issues, but I’m determined to post a total of fifty of these poems, no matter how long it actually takes me, so I appreciate my readers bearing with me. Today’s poem is inspired by “1985” by Bowling for Soup, which you can listen to below.
By Stephanie Hoogstad16 days ago in Poets
Sliver Giver
The sliver giver struck again, peeling off just enough to resuscitate suffering, grumbling crumbs, an inconvenience to manipulate,
By Harper Lewis 16 days ago in Poets
A demon visits the month of madness
It’s getting brisk, Just chilly enough to cuddle and flirt So conjure me now with a handful of dirt Etch my name on your belly
By Sam Spinelli17 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
Upon a crust of golden sleep, Where shadows fade and sorrows keep, A quiet fire begins to glow, To heal the heavy heart below.
By Forest Green17 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
Upon a board of floured pine, Where morning sun and shadows twine, A golden circle starts to take The gentle shape of sweet remake.
By Forest Green17 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
Upon the counter, cooling in the morn, A quiet symbol of a day newborn, A pastry shell, so humble and so sweet, Awaiting hands to make the table complete.
By Forest Green17 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
A crust of gold, like morning’s early light, Pressed in by hand, through shadows into sight. It bakes in warmth, a promise on the tray,
By Forest Green17 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
Upon a crust of golden, toasted grace, A quiet patience found its resting place, A hollow shell, once empty to the breeze,
By Forest Green17 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
Upon the counter, bathed in morning light, A pastry waiting for the world to wake, A golden crust of flaky, buttery white,
By Forest Green17 days ago in Poets