There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
"What about the male loneliness epidemic?" "What about the high male suicide rate?" "What about the false rape accusations?"
By CT Idlehouse7 months ago in Poets
A body floating on a body of water. - Get your tongue out of my head already. - The body and face never sharing the frame,
By Reece Beckett7 months ago in Poets
I grew up in the Rio Grande Valley A border town, a half hours drive to Mexico That was the southern border You’d have to drive about an hour to reach the northern border
By Stanley Davis7 months ago in Poets
written, created, edited by Vicki Lawana Trusselli & my little Sweetie Bird, punk rocker Even with all the horror in the world, Sweetie Bird has entered her full punk rock era, mohawk up, attitude sharp, tiny heart wide open.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Poets
Under the Stairs It Waits There is a space beneath the stairs, Where light forgets to stay, Where dust hangs thick like something living,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
The Locksmith’s Last Key He came at dusk, with iron breath, Keys whispering low in his coat, Each one held a door long buried,
Mankind is Icarus and our own pride is the wind that deafened him as he flew, drowning out any other thoughts or sensibilities
By Donny Foley7 months ago in Poets
The man next door always smiles. Blue-collar life suits him? "Gratitude," he explained. "Others have it harder." Into my hand he pressed a pendant with a sun and moon on a cord.
By Julie Lacksonen7 months ago in Poets
The first warm day of the year And I return from the store Sweating lightly in my t-shirt and shorts Waiting for the air to kick in
By Gene Lass7 months ago in Poets
“A soap impression of his wife That he ate and donated to the National Trust” - John Lennon “Happiness is a Warm Gun” > 6:30 a.m.
“Whatever happened to that lovely hippie shit?” -Ray High “Psychoderelict” a rock opera by Pete Townshend > > In 1970, Jackson Browne
An old black man sidles across the street Black suit, white tie Folded newspaper in his hand > He swings his arm and fans the paper behind him
