There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Karma tastes like bitter metallic A gunshot wound delivered without delay A meeting for all the lives you throw away For a profit, your greed pre-existing, justice is the cure
By vibrant ghostabout a year ago in Poets
There’s a counter in my chest with bins and labels hand-made, neat, A lost and found of all my selves, where past and present meet.
By Milan Milicabout a year ago in Poets
I have so many memories that it was filled with lots of nature— Lots of Nature on this earth with all four seasons— It’s been very odd that was I born on Spring— But….
By Meghan LeVaughn about a year ago in Poets
These people say: “If you can’t afford kids, don’t have them!” Ignorance. It’s bliss I guess. “To lazy to work or get job, that’s you’re problem.”
By Hope Martinabout a year ago in Poets
I used to ask him, when I was a kid, about the war— what it meant to him. ~~~ His smile would falter or alter politely
By SUEDE the poetabout a year ago in Poets
Here and gone. Fluttering down. Falling foolishly. . A butterfly with wings Mended by glue Flapping, flying. . Bright against blue sky,
By Silver Dauxabout a year ago in Poets
Bread tastes better with butter and pizza crust needs some too Utterly smooth and soft, or cold from the fridge Thinly layered, even beneath peanut butter, or
By Andrea Corwin about a year ago in Poets
First, do not bully the light. Let it sneak in through the cheap blinds, thin as a rumor, slow as an apology that took years to form.
We sat on opposite ends of one small, faithful couch. Our sentences in winter coats, our silences a crouch. The lamp rehearsed a warmer mood; the window watched instead.
I'm from tangled hair sun licked and snarled damp cheeks kissed by the ocean's lips sandy skin toasted by loving days rays
By M. Leeabout a year ago in Poets
June 12 320 in the attendance Came to dance on a Saturday night Latin night All the beautiful people Having fun like it’s the summer sun beaming on them
By Gladys W. Muturiabout a year ago in Poets
Haunted Mannequins They stand so still, faces turned to the light, eyes that never blink, shadows caught in their stare.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
